* * * * * "He's coming around." Hendley tried to open his eyes, but the lids were stuck. He stopped trying and concentrated on his pain. His knee was aflame, and his neck and jaw and stomach and other, more tender parts ached. Someone seemed to be kneeling on his chest. But he could flex his toes and fingers. He could breathe, if wheezingly. He seemed whole--and he was alive. His eyelids struggled open. He looked into a smooth-skinned brown face and brown eyes that seemed to devour him. The girl's full, wide mouth was open. Her expression was no longer indifferent. It was--eager. He stared past her rounded shoulder at the sky, and at another familiar face which he did not immediately place. The face smiled. "Close call," the young man who owned the face said. "But with a little rest you'll be good as new." The statement did not seem very credible, but Hendley was unequal to argument. "What happened?" he asked. "You won!" the tanned girl said enthusiastically. "I did?" "FLN-962--he's my Contracted--said you did very well. The team won. They're playing a rematch now." "Oh." The victory did not matter. What mattered was being out of the game in one piece. He said, "They must be out of their minds." "FLN is a nut about water polo," the girl agreed. "I thought I was finished." "He pulled you out." With a toss of her head the girl indicated the stranger watching over her shoulder. Hendley tried to identify the faintly sardonic smile, the cool ascetic face with its expression of weary boredom. He noted that the man's uniform was soaking wet. "The robot rescue team was on another call," the man said diffidently, dismissing his action. "I thought they might not get to you in time." Hendley closed his eyes. "Thanks," he murmured. He felt terribly tired, but the pain in his groin had dulled a little and the other aches were bearable, even the knee. Suddenly he remembered the young man's face. He had been sitting with his air of indolence at a table near Hendley's in the outdoor cafe. Hendley looked up again. The young man was gone. "Where did he go?" Hendley asked. "Never mind him," the brown-eyed girl said soothingly. Gently she massaged his neck. "Do you think you can get up?" "I don't know." "I'll help you." Somehow he managed to struggle to his feet with the girl's help. "You need to relax," she said. "Come with me." Too weak to protest or even to wonder why it was necessary to move, Hendley allowed himself to be led away from the pool area. They were on grass, and she steadied him as he sagged against her. Then they were under a canopy of trees which screened the sunlight. The cool shade felt good. Sounds of play in the pool had diminished. "Lie here," the girl murmured in his ear. Hendley did as he was told. It was wonderful to lie on the cool grass, to let his abused muscles relax, to close his eyes, to feel the soft breath of air against his body....