"As soon as the plumbing's out and you feel up to it," Odeon promised, stricken by her uncharacteristic vulnerability. Blessed Mother of God, he prayed silently, don't let them have robbed her of that, too! She's lost the ability to have children; don't let her be condemned to the constant danger we face without even this consolation! "Just let me know when, Joanie. I'll be here for you." He kissed her again, and left. Cortin watched him go, relieved. He'd been reassuring, not scornful, and that was a big help in itself. * * * * * She was kept busy the rest of the day, first by the priest, then by medical personnel, and then--over Dr. Egan's objections--by the debriefing team, which included the artist she'd asked for. It also included a lieutenant wearing the silver question-mark badge of one who held an Inquisitor's Warrant, and who was treated with a degree of respect that was highly unusual for a junior officer. Cortin made note of that, then disregarded it; if she was under consideration for something classified, she had to expect some non-standard attention. And he was a good Inquisitor, whatever else he was, eliciting details she didn't remember noticing, gaining her confidence even though she was familiar with the techniques he was using, reading her face and body language well enough that at times he seemed to be reading her mind instead. No, she thought when the team left, he was more than a simple lieutenant! The drugs had worn off by early the next morning. When an orderly brought her breakfast, Cortin was in physical pain and emotional shock, but she forced herself to be as polite as possible to the orderly, and then to eat in spite of her lack of appetite. Afterward, she endured the medical attentions that brought more pain, telling herself she had to go through that and the accompanying humiliation to reach her goal. She was glad when it was over and she was left alone; the only person she had any real desire to see was Mike. He arrived moments after visiting hours began. She started to greet him, but fell silent in shock when she saw his face. Mike had been crying, and there were still tears in his eyes! Hesitantly, she held a hand out to him. "Mike--?" He took it, tears again starting to fall. "Joanie--oh, Joanie, I'm so sorry!" Her stomach churned with miserable certainty of his answer, but she made herself ask, "What is it, Mike?"