"Mmm." Odeon frowned, thought for a moment, then smiled slowly. "I hadn't expected that, but it fits." "Fits how?" Egan asked in near-exasperation. "I cannot for the life of me imagine why she would want to live with such reminders, as well as the pain." "Not live with them," Odeon corrected. "You're thinking like a doctor, of course, but she's not one--she's an Enforcement officer who wants revenge. I'd say she intends to kill Brothers with them. And I'm trying to get her in a position to do just that." Egan stared at him, appalled by the pleased anticipation in his soft voice and pale eyes. She'd known all her life that Enforcement people--especially those in Special Operations--were killers, but this was the first time that knowledge had actually frightened her. "Yes . . . is there anything else?" "Only one." Odeon retrieved his briefcase, preparing to leave. He hadn't intended to disturb the doctor, but if she had any acquaintance with Enforcement at all, and was that easily upset, she should have known better than to ask such a question. "When can I see her?" "Tomorrow morning, if you want to speak to her instead of just see her. You know the kind of equipment that will be hooked up to her?" Odeon chuckled. "It's been hooked up to me more than once, Doctor. It doesn't bother me." It was enough for now to know his Joanie was doing as well as humanly possible. "Thank you for your efforts." To meet Lawrence Shannon: 1a. Raid Master 2. Hospital St. Thomas, Thursday, 20 June 2571 Odeon was still perplexed by the previous afternoon's odd meeting when he got to Joanie's room the morning after her surgery. The door was open, but he tapped on it and called her name anyway. "Mike!" Cortin hoped he could hear the welcome she tried to put in her voice. "Come in, please!" She watched him approach, holding back tears. Mike had been her ideal since the day she'd met him, and she'd done her best to live up to his example of cool, impartial professionalism. He was an outstanding officer, an exemplary son of the Church; he certainly wouldn't come apart, so she had to conceal her anguish. She couldn't forfeit his respect for her by collapsing, even though the Brothers had maimed and perhaps crippled her. He entered, smiling as he saw her. Her head and hands were bandaged, along with most of one arm; her face had half a dozen cuts and bruises not worth bandaging; and her ribs had undoubtedly been strapped tight under her hospital gown, but-- "You're looking a lot better than you were the last time I saw you. How do you feel?" "Right now, I mostly don't. They've got me so heavily doped up it's a miracle I'm awake and coherent. At least I hope I am. Coherent, that is; I know I'm awake." "You sound fine to me," Odeon assured her. He leaned over, kissed her forehead. "Ready for my report?" "Not until you do better than that," she said. "I know you can, and as far as I can tell, my mouth is all right."