Raoul and the Little One looked at each other. Both looked at the chameleon. Both looked at Jamil.

"Tycho," said Raoul, and the Little One nodded.

"But that's not possible!" argued Jamil.

"Why, sure it is, Jamil," said Harry. "We learned about that in church. 'On the third day he rose again from the dead.' Maybe it took Tycho here a little longer, but h.e.l.l, he's an alien! Cut him some slack!"

"I am not questioning Harry's theological beliefs," Quong said, confronting the chameleon, "but I saw Tycho die. I p.r.o.nounced him dead and I do not make mistakes. Yet you claim to be Tycho, our former team member, an expert snipera""

"I am not a sniper," said the chameleon, anxious to make certain there was no misunderstanding. "That was Tycho's specialty. I, Tycho, am trained in field engineering, with expertise, if I may say this without appearing prideful, in improvised detonators. I am also adept at acquiring access to secure environments."

"Field engineering. In other words, an explosives expert," said Dr. Quong. "And he can break into buildings. I think I'm beginning to understand."

"Then explain it to the rest of us," Jamil demanded.

"I cannot do so yet," said Quong with maddening imperturbability. "I require more facts."

"I'm not sure which of you to shoot first," Jamil muttered.

"I have the contract, if you wish to verify my nonent.i.ty," offered the chameleon.

"Ident.i.ty," murmured Quong to Darlene. "Apparently he has the same translator problems that afflicted our other Tycho."

Blissfully unaware of his mistake, Tycho brought forth an electronic contract pada"the type Xris always useda"and handed it to Jamil.

Darlene peered over his shoulder as Jamil activated the device.

"That's Xris's DNA signature, all right," Jamil said. He looked up, frowning. "But this contract is made out to Tycho."

"And that is why Tycho is here," said the chameleon with a tentative smile. "To fulfill the contract. According to my elder brothera""

"Ah-hah!" cried Dr. Quong. He turned, gazed at the others triumphantly. "Jamil, put the gun away. Tycho is a family name. Like Luck, as in Harry Luck." Quong elaborated: "For example, Harry, your older brothera""

"I don't have an older brother," Harry corrected him. "I got a sister, though, if that helps."

"Your older brother," Quong repeated loudly, frowning, "would be known as Lucka""

"I beg your pardon, Doctor, sir." The chameleon broke in apologetically. "You are nearly correct, but not quite. I had a.s.sumed that my elder brother would have explained this to you, but apparently he did not. Tycho is the name given to the senior male member of the family. My elder brother, Tycho, is dead, and I am now the senior male. I am now Tycho. The contract was made with Tycho, the senior male member of the Tycho family. As Tycho, I am here to resume service under the contract with Mag Force 7."

Jamil lowered the gun. "You mean you're Tycho's little brother?"

Tycho nodded. "In human terms, that would be a correct a.s.sumption. According to my own culture, I am Tycho."

"How many male members of the family are there?" Quong asked.

"Thirteen," said Tycho with a pleased smile. His skin color had changed to a rosy hue, matching the floral pattern on the drapes.

"And all of them are trained soldiers?"

"The elder seven. The other six are too young. But they will take the training when they are of age, for we are a soldier, yes."

"A soldier?" Jamil was having a difficult time with the concept.

"The entire family is considered a single ent.i.ty," Quong explained in didactic tones. "In "sociological terms, this would bea""

"Don't you have a s.p.a.ceplane to catch, Doc?" Jamil interrupted.

"Ah, yes! Thank you for reminding me." Quong shook hands with Tycho. "Welcome to the team. Remember, all of you, that we have only seventeen days left to complete our mission in Del Sol. I have rescheduled my flight to arrive at approximately the same time as yours. I will meet you at the Del Sol s.p.a.ceport."

The doctor hurried off. Raoul retired for a long, soaking bubble bath, necessary to soothe his shattered nerves. The Little One went back to nursing his headache. Jamil marched the new Tycho off to the study, intending to a.s.sess his technical expertise.

Darlene was heading for her bedroom when she came across Harry, standing in the now-darkened living room, staring despondently out the window.

Darlene laid her hand on his arm. "We're eight again, Harry," she said, hoping to cheer him.

He only shook his head. "Not without Xris, we're not. I don't care how many Tychos come back from the dead."

Darlene wondered whether she should try to explain to Harry that Tycho was not a messiah, but decided that she was too tired.

She went to bed and, eventually, so did Harry.

Dr. Quong was the last person to board the transport. He arrived at the gate at a dead run, was hustled on board by an irritated gate attendant, who slammed shut the door after him and departed, muttering something about pa.s.sengers who thought that regulations about arriving at the s.p.a.ceport early applied to everyone else except them.

Petronella watched him board in some surprise, verified his destination, and said grudgingly to herself, "Well, at least one of their stories checks out."

CHAPTER 19.

The bird a nest, the spider a web, man friendship.

William Blake, "Proverbs of h.e.l.l"

"You have a visitor," said the guard. "Name of Quong.

I Do you want to see him?"

"You didn't give me a choice last time," Xris said, reaching for his crutch.

"Yeah, well, the last visitor seems to have done you some good. I figure the trend might continue. How's that crutch working for you?"

"Fine, just fine," Xris replied.

His new accommodations might have been termed luxurious by comparison with his old ones. The new cell had its own shower, its own vid machine. He had access to the prison library and had kept himself occupied by reading some ancient Earth literature that had been recommended to him by Lady Maigrey during their brief time together.

Puzzling through the archaic language and studying the voluminous annotations and footnotes accompanying the text diverted his mind from jumping on its hamster wheel and running around and around, going rapidly nowhere.

Who had tried to kill him, and why?

Xris didn't trust Amadi. No surprise there. But Xris had ruled Amadi out as the a.s.sa.s.sina"at least he wouldn't be until Xris's usefulness to Amadi was ended. Xris had no doubt that Amadi was playing a deadly, dangerous game. that he was using Xris as a p.a.w.n in that game, and that Amadi fully intended to sacrifice his p.a.w.n in order to win.

Xris was perfectly willing to be moved around the board, especially if that meant gaining easy access to the enemy's stronghold. Vengeance is sweet. Rotten, but sweet.

The guard solicitously offered a helping hand, a hand which Xris found great satisfaction in ignoring. He hobbled out of his cell on his own, followed by the guard, who was no longer carrying the stun-stick, but a weapon known as the "sneezy," useful in quelling unrest among the inmates. When activated, the "sneezy" emitted an ultra-high-frequency sound that triggered sneezing fits of such violence that all those afflicted were immediately incapacitated.

"Tampambulos here." The guard reported to the guard at the infirmary. "To see his doctor."

Prisoners in the infirmary, under constant watch by security cams, could supposedly hold private consultations with prison doctors. And while the term private might actually have some meaning for the majority of prisoners, Xris was under no illusions. His first night in his new cell after the attempt on his life, he'd discovered the listening device that had been planted in his new crutch.

Bill Quong was there, waiting for him, along with the cybernetic limbs, packed in two specially designed carrying cases.

As Xris stumped in, he watched Quong's almond eyes widen in shock.

"By the Maker! Harry was right!" Quong exclaimed. "You look terrible! I will give you a complete physical. What do they feed you here anyway?"

"The food's okay, Doc." Xris glanced at the crutch, tilted his head slightly.

Quong nodded and punched in the code that would allow him to open the cases.

"I just haven't had much appet.i.te," Xris continued. "I don't need a physical, Doc. I'll feel a d.a.m.n sight better once I have a leg to stand on."

"I am glad you can still make jokes," Quong said stiffly. "The rest of us do not see much humor in this situation."

"It's important for me to keep up my spirits." Xris eyed the leg as Quong removed it from the case. "I take it that pa.s.sed inspection?"

"The guards went over every centimeter. That is why I am late. I was forced to spend an hour rea.s.sembling it."

The leg and the arm certainly looked plain and ordinary, so plain and so ordinary that Xris was worried. Quong hadn't had much time, after all.

"Are you sure these are going to work for me, Doc? They look pretty cheap. I won't pay for shoddy workmanship. I can't afford to have them break down on me."

Quong drew himself up, offended. "They are not as fine as the custom-made models to which you are accustomed, my friend, but I believe that you will find them quite satisfactory." His tone was cold. "Especially for a murderer."

"Don't go all righteous on me, Doc," Xris returned. "Or I'll bring up that malpractice suit they nailed you with on Vangelis II. Just shut your mouth and hook me up, will you?"

Removing his prison uniform and his underwear, Xris laid down on the examining table and prepared to undergo the painful and humiliating experience of having his limbs reattached. He was well aware that this operation was being viewed on the security cams, could imagine the guards watching with interest and ribald jocularity. He set his jaw, conjured up the ghost of Mashahiro Ito, and endured.

He and Quong spoke only when necessary, the doctor asking terse questions about fit or movement, Xris keeping his answers brief.

But it was all worth it when he sat up and, for the first time in a over a week, was able to stand without a.s.sistance, to flex the fingers on two hands.

"Thanks, Doc," Xris said.

"Do not thank me," Quong said curtly. "I am being well paid for my work. I will forward your records to the Jango medical facility. Herewith, I tender my resignation as your personal physician." He tapped on the door, shouted, "I am ready to leave!"

The guards entered the room with such alacrity that it was obvious they'd been watching the entire proceeding.

"I a.s.sume you have a chapel in this prison?" Dr. Quong said sententiously. "If you would tell me where it is, I would like to pray for the soul of this unfortunate man."

"Yeah, you do that, Doc!" Xris sneered. "Say a few prayers for yourself while you're at it."

Back inside his cell, Xris turned on the vid machine, set the volume on high, and sat back to listen to a commentary on the poetry of William Blake. He trusted whoever was eavesdropping on him would find his mind improved.

"Let us examine this line from Marriage of Heaven and h.e.l.l," said the professor. "'Note: The reason Milton wrote in fetters when he wrote of Angles and G.o.d, and at liberty when of Devils & h.e.l.l, is because he was a true Poet and of the Devil's party without knowing it.'

"Blake refers, of course, to Milton's poem Paradise Lost, presumably the story of man's banishment from the Garden of Eden, but one in which many readers, Blake among them, have come to see Satan as the hero, not the villain, as can be seen in the above verse. According to Blake, the poetic imagination and the energy of human desire are near allied...."

Xris scratched his head, bemused, and managed at the same time to tap the commlink behind his ear twice. He waited; no response. He tried again and after about half an hour, during which he wondered if Quong had gotten lost or been hijacked, he heard Doc's voice in his ear.

"Blessed Maker," Quong was praying, "do what you can to salvage the blood-stained soul of this wretched humana""

"I can hear you, Doc," Xris said, speaking from the back of his throat, not allowing his lips to move. This meant that some of his words were a bit slurred, since it was difficult to speak words with consonants such as b or m in them, but Quong would understand him well enough to get by. "Cut the c.r.a.p. You alone?"

"Yes, finally. Sorry it took so long. The chaplain wanted to comfort me. He has at last left me to my prayers."

"Let's hope you can answer mine," Xris said. "Tell me about the leg."

"First tell me what happened to your face."

"Oh. that." Xris was nonchalant. "Some lunkhead tried to kill me. Fortunately for the future of mankind, I doubt if he'll be making contributions to the gene pool anytime soon."

"A hired gun?"

"Yeah."

"Who hired him? This Amadi person?"

"I don't think so," Xris said. "I've just agreed to do a really dirty job for Amadi. Why would he pay to have me eradicated? It doesn't make any sense. Any suggestions will be gratefully received."

"I'll take it under consideration. In view of this, do you consider it wise to continue? Darlene has already told Agent Rizzoli the trutha""

"I'm staying," Xris said firmly. "This is too good to pa.s.s up. Finally I'll be able to look into the eyes of the b.a.s.t.a.r.ds who ordered Ito's death. Not only am I staying with the job, Doc, I'm looking forward to it. We don't have a lot of time." Xris cut off any argument. "They'll come to get me for dinner in about an hour. Now tell me about the leg."

"I've placed a universal lock opener, a very precise magnetometer, and a micro-sized light source in behind the servo central control panel in your calf. The magnetometer is the only item with which you won't be familiar. You can use it to find metal sensors either buried in the ground or embedded in the walls. Is all that clear, my friend?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Doc." Xris started to say he appreciated it, but realized that any word with two p's would never be understood. Quong knew how he felt anyway. "Any news from the front?"

"Agent Rizzoli paid us a visit after receiving an invitation from Darlene. Rizzoli brought company with her, only she didn't know it. We thought it was someone dropping by to see Darlene, but the Little One said no, he was interested in Rizzoli. We tried to hang on to him, but he got away."

"Amadi's having her followed," Xris observed. "With what Darlene told Rizzoli, that should have convinced her that she should be suspicious of her boss."

"I don't think we convinced her of anything except that we are bungling idiots," Quong returned acerbically. "I am ashamed to say that we did not handle ourselves in a professional manner. There is more news. Tycho is with us."

"What?" Startled, Xris spoke the word aloud. However, it fit in with what the professor on the vid was saying, and so he hoped no one watching or listening would get suspicious. "You started believing in ghosts, Doc?"