I've got to hurry too, Linton thought. It's Resurrection Day! * * * * * The doctor fluttered his hands and chirped about the office. "Well, well, Mr. Linton, we understand you've been causing disturbances." "Not really," Linton said modestly. "Come, come," the doctor chided. "You started riots in two places, attempted to bribe an officer. That's disturbing, Mr. Linton, very disturbing." "I was only trying to find out something," Linton maintained. "They could have told me. Everybody seems to know but me." The doctor clucked his tongue. "Let's not think any such thing. People don't know more than you do." Linton rubbed his shoulder. "That cop knew more about Judo holds than I did." "A few specific people know a few specific things you don't. But let me ask you, Mr. Linton, could Einstein bake a pie?" "I don't know. Who the hell ever wasted Einstein's time asking him a thing like that?" "People who want to know the answers to questions have to ask them. You can find out anything by asking the right questions of the right person at the right time." Linton stared suspiciously. "Do you know where I can find a resurrectionist?" "I am a resurrectionist." "But the policeman brought me to you!" "Well, that's what you paid him to do, wasn't it? Did you think a policeman would just steal your money? Cynics--all you young people are cynics." Linton scooted forward on the insultingly cold metal chair and really looked at the doctor for the first time. "Doctor, can you _really_ resurrect the dead?" "Will you stop being cynical? Of course I can!" "Doctor, I'm beginning to believe in you," Linton said, "but tell me, can you resurrect the _long_ dead?" "Size has nothing to do with it." "No, my wife has been dead a long time. Months." "Months?" The doctor snapped those weeks away with his fingers. "It could be years. Centuries. It's all mathematics, my boy. I need only one fragment of the body and my computers can compute what the rest of it was like and recreate it. It's infallible. Naturally there is a degree of risk involved." "Infallible risk, yes," Linton murmured. "Could you go to work right away?" "First, I must follow an ancient medical practice. I must bleed you." Linton grasped the situation immediately. "You mean you want money. You realize I've just got out of an institution...." "I've often been in institutions myself, for alcoholism, narcotics addiction and more." "What a wonderful professional career," Linton said, when he couldn't care less. "Oh, yes--yes, indeed. But I didn't come out broke." "Neither did I," Linton said hastily. "I invested in shifty stocks, faltering bonds, and while I was away they sank to rock bottom." "Then--" "When they hit rock bottom, they bounced up. If I hadn't found you, I would have been secure for the rest of my lonely, miserable life." "All that's ended now," the doctor assured him. "Now we must go dig up the corpse. The female corpse, eh?"