A big delivery truck was backing up against the sidewalk, its reverse- gear alarm piercing and deafening. The mid-morning sun was playing hide-and-seek with a new bank of clouds in the south. "That thing you told me about? Is that it?" Dale's voice immediately grew subdued. He was a balding blond guy with just enough hair left for a comb-over. Beyond that, his pale gray eyes showed a special kind of yearning. He wanted truth and justice to prevail. "Don't do anything that won't let you sleep nights. But this situation is very special. I was hoping I wouldn't have to come to you about what we talked about last month, but I'm running out of time and ideas." He paused, listening to the sound of silence. "I suppose it's too much to ask." "Well, I still haven't seen any data or preliminary reports. The NIH monitor for those particular clinical trials is a woman called Cheryl Gates and she's not returning anybody's phone calls. The truth is, she doesn't have to. But another possibility is, she doesn't actually know beans and she's too embarrassed to admit it. If somebody wants to keep a monitor in the dark for strategic commercial reasons, it's easy enough to do." "Well, how about the other thing? The thing we talked about. The list?" He sighed. "I was afraid you might come to that. That's a tough one, Truth and Justice." "Hey, you know I didn't want to ask. But I'm running out of cards." He sighed again. There was a long silence and then, "You know you're asking me to give you highly restricted access codes to the NIH Web site. We shouldn't even be talking about it. So officially the answer is no. That's for the record." "Strictly your decision." But he had his fingers crossed, even as he was ashamed of himself for asking in the first place. "Maybe this is God's way of letting me even up things a bit. It can't be something easy or it doesn't really count, does it?" "I could end up knowing more about these trials than the NIH does," Stone said. "Because it doesn't sound like you guys actually know much at all." "Let me think about it and send you an e-mail tonight. Whatever comes up, it'll be 'scrambled eggs.'" "Thanks, Atlas." "Scrambled eggs" was a reference to a made-up code system they'd used in college. A name or number was encoded by interlacing it with their old phone number. This time the interlaced number would be an access code for proprietary NIH data. "I do not think I'm long for the world here at the Sentinel. We're forming a mutual hostility society." "I sure as hell hope you've got a new career concept ready for the day when they give you the ax." Dale's attempt at a light tone did not quite disguise his concern. "Funny, but that's the second time I've received that advice in the last half hour. I deem that unlucky." "Stone, sometimes I think you ought to try not living your life so close to the damned edge. Maybe you ought to start practicing a little prudence, just to see what it feels like."