Tach crossed to her, took the cup, and held her against his chest. Her tears formed a warm, wet patch on his shirt, and he reached out for her mind, but she seemed to sense his intent, and pushed him violently away.

"No, don't, not until I explain what I've done. Otherwise you're likely to get a terrific shock." He waited while she removed an embroidered handkerchief from her purse, gave her nose a resolute blow, and patted at her eyes. When she again raised her head she was calm, and he admired her dignity and control. "You must think me a typical scatterbrained female. Well, I won't bore you anymore. I'll start at the beginning and be quite logical."

"You left without saying good-bye," he broke in. "Archibald thought it best, and when he's being fatherly and commanding, I've never been able to say no to him." Her mouth worked. "Not about anything. When he learned what I could do, he told me that I had a great gift. That I could preserve priceless knowledge. He urged me to join his group." He snapped his fingers. "Earl Sanderson, and Jack Braun. "

"That's right."

He bounded up and paced the room. "They were involved in something down in Argentina, and in capturing Mengele and Eichmann, but four?"

"David Harstein, otherwise known as the Envoy-"

"I know him, I treated him only a few… never mind, go on."

"And me." She smiled with a little girl's embarrassment. "Brain Trust."

He sank back down on the couch, and stared at her. "What has he.. what have you done."

"Used my talent the way Archibald advised. Want to know anything about relativity, rocket technology, nuclear physics, biochemistry?"

"He's been sending you around the country absorbing minds," he said. Then he exploded. "Who in the hell do you have in your head?"

She joined him on the sofa. "Einstein, Salk, Von Braun, Oppenheimer, Teller, and Henry of course, but I'd like to forget about that." She smiled. "And that's the crux of the problem. Henry didn't take kindly to a wife with several Nobel prizewinners in her head, much less a wife who knew where all his skeletons were buried, so this morning he threw me out. I wouldn't mind so much if it weren't for the children. I don't know what he's going to tell them about their mother, and-oh damn," she whispered, banging her fists on her knees. "I will not start crying again."

"Anyway, I was trying to think of what to do. I had just wrestled free from Jack, and was bawling in the back of a taxi, when I thought of you." Suddenly Tachyon became aware that she was speaking German. He bit down hard, forcing his tongue against the roof of his mouth to hold back nausea. "It's silly, but in some ways I feel closer to you than I do to anyone else in the world; which is strange when you consider that you're not even from this world."

Her smile was half siren, half Mona Lisa, but there was no answering physical and emotional response. He was too sickened and angry. "Sometimes I don't understand you people at all! Have you no conception of the dangers inherent in this virus?"

"No, how can I?" she interrupted. "Henry took us out of the city within hours of the crisis, and we didn't return until he thought the danger was past." She was back to English again. "Well, he was wrong, wasn't he!"

"Yes, but that's not my fault!"

"I'm not saying it is!"

"Then what are you so angry about?"

"Holmes," he ejected. "You called him fatherly, but if he had had any affection for you at all, he would not have encouraged you in this mad course."

"What is so mad about it? I'm young, many of these men are old. I'm preserving priceless knowledge."

"At the risk of your own sanity."

"You taught me-"

"You're a humanl You're not trained to handle the stress of high-level mentatics. The techniques I taught you in the hospital to keep your personality separate from your husband's were inadequate, nowhere near strong enough."

"Then teach me what I need to know. Or cure me." The challenge brought him up short. "I can't… at least not yet. The virus is hellishly complex, working out a counter strain to nullify…" He shrugged. "To trump the wild card, if you will, may take me years. I'm one man working alone."

"Then I'll go back to Jack." She picked up the case, and lurched toward the door. It was an oddly compelling mixture of dignity and farce as the heavy bag pulled her off balance. "And if I should go mad, perhaps Archibald will find me a good psychiatrist. After all, I am one of the Four Aces."

"Wait… you can't just go."

"Then you'll teach me?"

He dug thumb and middle finger into the corners of his eyes, and gave the bridge of his nose a hard squeeze. "I'll try." The case hit the floor, and she slowly approached him. He warded her off with his free hand. "One last thing. I'm not a saint, nor one of your human monks." He gestured toward the curtained alcove that held his bed. "Someday I'll want you."

"So what's wrong with now?" She pushed aside the restraining hand, and molded her body to his. It was not a particularly lush body. In fact, it could have been described as meager, but any fault he might have found vanished as her hands cupped his face and pulled his lips down to meet hers.

"A lovely day." Tachyon sighed with satisfaction, scrubbed at his face with his hand, and stripped off his socks and underwear.

Blythe smiled at him from the bathroom mirror where she stood creaming her face. "Any earth male who heard you say that would decide you were certifiably insane. A day spent in the company of an eight-year-old, a five-year-old, and a threeyear-old is not held to be a high treat by most men."

"Your men are stupid." He stared off into space, for a moment remembering the feel of sticky hands in his pockets as a bevy of tiny cousins searched for the treats he carried there, the press of a soft, plump baby cheek against his when he went away promising most faithfully to come again soon and play. He pushed back the past, and found her intently regarding him. "Homesick?"

"Thinking."

"Homesick."

"Children are a joy and a delight," he said hurriedly before she could reopen their ongoing argument. Picking up a brush, he pulled it through his long hair. "In fact, I've often wondered if yours aren't changlings or if you cuckolded old Henry from the beginning."

Six months ago, when Blythe had been thrown from the house, van Renssaeler had instructed the servants to refuse entrance to his estranged wife, thus barring her from her children. Tach had quickly remedied that situation. Every week, when they knew the representative was away from home, they went to the penthouse apartment, Tachyon mindcontrolled the servants, and they'd spend several hours playing with Henry Jr., Brandon, and Fleur. He'd then instruct the nurse and housekeeper to forget the visit. It gave him great satisfaction to thumb his nose at the hated Henry, though for real vengeance the man should have been aware of their challenge to his authority.

Tossing the brush aside, he gathered up the evening paper and crawled into bed. On the front page was a picture of Earl receiving a medal for having saved Gandhi. Jack and Holmes stood in the background, the older man looking smug, while Jack looked ill at ease. "Here's a picture from the banquet tonight," he added. "But I still don't see why all the fuss. It was only an attempt."

"We don't share your callous attitude toward assassination." Her voice was muffled by the folds of her flannel nightgown as she pulled it over her head.

"I know, and it still seems strange." He rolled over on his side propped up on one elbow. "Do you know that until I came to earth I had never gone anywhere without bodyguards?"

The old bed squeaked a bit as she settled in. "That's terrible."

"We're accustomed to it. Assassination is a way of life among my class. It's how the families jockey for position. By the time I was twenty I had lost fourteen members of my immediate family to assassination."