Marcie sniffed and looked up at me. "Jim?"

"Huh?"

"I'm all right now. You can let go."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"No. Don't. Thank you."

"Come on. I'll walk you back to your room."

"Okay."

We walked in silence. She had a small apartment in the second building past the commissary, one of the co-ops we'd seen on the way in. It was austere, but homey.

Once inside, she put her arms around me again and held me close. "Thank you," she said. I put my arms around her and we stood that way for a while.

"Jim," she said softly, "will you make love to me?"

I could smell the perfume in her hair; it made me dizzy. I didn't speak; I just nodded, then brought my face around to hers. Her eyes were wide-she looked like a frightened little girl, afraid I'd say yes.

I said, "Yes," and her eyes closed gently. She laid her head against my chest and I could feel her body beginning to relax. She was all right. At last she knew she was all right. Because I was all right, and I said so.

I stroked her hair with my hand. She was ... so tiny, so pale, so thin. So fragile. So warm.

There were a thousand things to say.

I didn't say any of them.

After a while, we moved to the bed. "Turn off the light?" I said.

"I'd rather leave it on."

"Oh. Well ... okay."

I FLOATED in the land of Afterward, drifting toward the land of Nod-until suddenly, I jerked awake and sat up in a cold sweat. "Holy buffalo shit!"

Next to me, Marcie rolled over, alarmed. "Huh? What is it?"

"I have to go-I have to be back at the hotel! What time is it? Oh, sweet Jesus-it's almost midnight! They're gonna hang me for sure!"

"Jim, are you all right?"

"No-I'm not!" I was already pulling on my pants. "Where are my shoes?"

"Don't go-"

"I have to!" And then I saw the look on her face-that hurt, used expression-and I sat down next to her and pulled her into my arms. "Marcie, I'm sorry. I wish I could stay here with you, but I can't. I-I'm under orders. I know this looks like I'm running out on you, but I'm not. Please believe me."

"I believe you," she said, but I could feel her stiffening in my arms. She rubbed at her eyes. "I'm not angry. I'm used to it." I tilted her face toward mine and kissed her. "I'm not like that, Marcie."

"Yeah, I know. Nobody's like anybody else anymore-only everybody's still running from everybody else."

I started searching for my shirt. "I'm not running from, I'm running to. If you knew-"

"Uh huh. You've even got a secret mission. Like everybody else." She threw herself back in the bed, rolling up in the blankets, pulling a pillow over her head. "Just go away, Jim-quietly! Okay?"

I sat down on the bed next to her while I pulled on my shoes. "Listen, I'll come back, all right? If it's not too late. I want to."

"Don't bother," she mmfled from under the pillow.

"Marcie, please don't be angry with me. I wish I could tell you, but I can't." I bent to kiss her, but she wouldn't let me pull the pillow away from her head. "All right, have it your own way." I drove back to the hotel, feeling like something that had crawled out from under a rock and not knowing why. Dammitthe harder I tried to be honorable the worse I felt. Why couldn't I just be a shit like Ted and have everybody falling all over me? The only answer I could think of to that was that I didn't know how to be a shit. I was doomed to go through life always trying to be nice. Always trying to rationalize. Always trying to understand. I switched on the auto-terminal angrily, and punched for channel fifteen. It was a replay of one of the Free Forum sessions at the conference, but listening to it only made me angrier. Why were they broadcasting this bullshit anyway? If these people wanted to be stupid, that was their business-but how many innocent people were going to be endangered because they believed what they heard on the network? I was almost trembling with anger when I finally pulled into the hotel's underground parking.

I circled down into the concrete bowels of the building. There was a ramp marked SERVICE and I pulled into that. The robot guard scanned my card, looked at my face and cleared me without question. The elevator also checked my identity before delivering me to the thirteenth floor.

There were no armed guards waiting for me when the elevator doors slid open. I let out the breath I had been holding all the way up.

I went back to the room they had assigned me and checked in at the terminal. "Request instructions."

The screen cleared, then flashed: "Please wait at this location until further notice."

What did that mean?

I sat in front of the terminal and waited, staring at the screen. How long?

Had Wallachstein and the others already met and decided my fate? While I hadn't been there to speak for myself?

I went into the kitchen and got myself some tomato juice, then I came back to the keyboard and sat down again. Still nothing. I thought of Marcie. I could still smell the honey-warmth of her hair. It made me feel warm and toasty inside-until I remembered the bitterness of my abrupt exit. I wondered if she'd forgive me.

Well, maybe I could do something while I waited. I cleared the screen and punched for Library Service. The screen flashed: "Sorry. This terminal is locked."

Huh?

I tried again. Same answer.

I pulled my card out of the reader-slot and went to the door. It wouldn't open. "Invalid code."

I came back into the room, stood in the center of it and looked around for another way out. The balcony?

I opened the sliding door and stepped out, leaning out over the railing to see how high I was. Too high. Thirteen stories. It wasn't the fall that was dangerous, it was the abrupt stop at the end.

What about climbing over the railing to an adjacent balcony? Not possible. The balconies were isolated for privacy. Another service of your security-conscious Marriott.

I looked down again, then went back into the room and took inventory. Two sheets, king size. Two blankets, king size. Not enough. Even with the drapes, I'd probably be four stories short.

I sat down in front of the terminal again and began to drink my tomato juice. It was tart. It made the salivary glands at the back of my mouth hurt. Did I have any other options?

I couldn't think of any.

Why did I want to escape anyway? Because they had locked me in. And why had they locked me in? Because they were afraid I might try to escape.

And what did that imply? That they had made a decision? That they had something planned for me that I might not like? And I had rushed from Marcie's bed to come here? No wonder so many people thought me a fool.

I downed the rest of the juice in a few quick swallows, then sank back in the chair and glowered at the implacable screen of the terminal.

It was totally disconnected. Before it would respond again, it would have to be cleared by someone with a priority code.

I thought about Marcie and my promise to call her. I wouldn't even be able to do that.

I thought about Wallachstein and his barely veiled threats. Had I failed the psychiatric examination?

What if they did decide to make me disappear? Wasn't I entitled to a fair trial--or had I already had it? How would they do it? Would I get any warning? How did they make people disappear anyway?

I realized I was sweating. I couldn't sit still. I got up and searched the room again, the balcony, the door-

The door beeped.

I started to call, "Who is it?" and then stopped. What if it were a firing squad? Would they do it here in the room? Or would they take me somewhere else to do it?

I stood there, debating whether to holler for help or try to hide. Before I could make up my mind, the door slid open. "May I come in?"