Tachyon shouted, "Stop it! Stop it!", Hiram's hands closed on Tachyon's shoulders. "You go to him. Talk to him. There may be some logical explanation. Think of all the good he's done-"

"Oh, yeah." Sarcasm lay like acid on the words. Ackroyd took another long pull at the flask.

"Think of what we stand to lose," Hiram cried.

"So he'll just lie to Tachyon. Where the hell does that get us?"

"He cannot lie to me." Hiram's hands dropped from his shoulders, and the big ace fell back a step. Tach drew himself up to his full, if inconsequential, height. Dignity and command wrapped like a cloak about him. "If I go to him, you know what I will do." Hiram's eyes were filled with dumb misery, but he nodded slowly. "Will you accept the truth of what I read in his mind?"

"Yes."

"Even though it is inadmissible in a court of law?"

"Yes. "

The alien whirled on Jay. "As for you, Mr. Ackroyd, take the jacket. Destroy it."

"Hey, that's our only proof!"

"Proof? Are you really suggesting that we publicize this? Think

… what we hold could spell the ruin of every wild card in America."

"But he killed Chrysalis, and if we don't nail him Elmo takes the fall."

Tachyon dragged his fingers through his hair, nails digging deep into his scalp. "Damn you, damn you, damn you." "Look, it's not my fault. But I'm damned if I'm going to agree to some sleazy little deal that lets Chrysalis's murderer walk."

"I swear to you upon my honor and blood that I will not let Elmo suffer."

"Yeah? What are you going to do?"

"I don't know yet!" Tachyon turned off the microscope with a vicious jab, carried the slide to the basin and washed the blood-stained fibers down the drain.

Hiram fell into step next to him as the alien headed for the door. Tach laid a hand on his chest.

"No, Hiram. I must do this alone."

"And if he's got Buzz Saw Boy, waiting for you?" asked Jay. "That is the risk I must take."

Spector thumbed the plastic SPECIAL VISITORS badge on his lapel and laughed quietly to himself. Earlier in the week, he would have killed until he was waist deep in bodies to get one of these. Now, he didn't need it anymore. Life was fucking like that.

Hartmann's floor was surprisingly quiet. He'd expected wall-to-wall aides and Secret Service. Spector pulled out Tony's room key and counted off the room numbers in his head. He figured it was time to get out of the country. Australia, maybe, or some other place where they spoke something that resembled English. He stopped in front of Tony's door and inserted the key. As he pushed in, he felt someone pulling it open from the other side.

Spector took a step back. A joker wearing Secret Service gear looked at his visitor's badge and motioned him in. The joker was tall and wiry, and gave Spector the once over when he stepped inside. His scaly, prominent brow ridge and some ugly lumps on his forehead were the only visible signs of his jokerhood. Spector figured there were more, but he wasn't interested enough to ask.

"Who are you?" the joker asked in a perfunctory manner. "I'm a friend of Tony Calderone. He sent me over to pick up his writing materials." Spector pointed to a black briefcase on the bed. "I think that's it."

"I see. Would you put your hands on your head, sir?" Spector did as he was told and the joker frisked him quickly, but thoroughly. Spector tensed. If this guy looked at him too long, he might get recognized. He was sure the feds had a file on him with Demise in big letters at the top. "This is news to me, so I'm going to check with Calderone." The joker moved to the phone, flipped through a notebook to find the number, and punched it in. He was careful not to turn his back, but showed no sign of placing Spector's face. "Tony Calderone, please." Short pause. "Tony. This is Colin. There's a guy here who says he's picking up your writing equipment. You did. Describe him for me. Okay. Yeah. I'm sorry, we just forgot." Colin hung up. "You Jim?"

"Yeah. Are you done with me?"

The joker raised a hand to signal silence and put a finger to his earpiece. "Yeah, I'm still in Calderone's room. There's a guy here who's going to deliver his writing kit to the hospital."

"Why didn't someone remind me I'd forgotten?" Long pause. "No, the hotel people say no one stayed in Baird's room again last night. Okay, I'll check it again later, but I think we're wasting our time. Talk to you later." The joker sighed and headed for the door. "Let yourself out," he said to Spector. "Don't forget to tell Tony I'm sorry."

Spector nodded stiffly and didn't breathe until the door closed. They knew about Baird. Not that it mattered now, with him leaving town. Still, the sooner he got the fuck out of here, the happier he'd be. He sat on the bed and flipped open the briefcase. Little computer and compact disc player, plenty of other crap, just like Tony'd said. He snapped it shut and headed to the bathroom for a drink of water. The city was baking again today, with no relief in sight. He set the briefcase down next to the toilet and was reaching for the tap when he heard the voices.

Whoever they were, neither one of them sounded very happy. Spector put his ear to the wall. His stomach turned over when he figured out who was arguing. Tachyon. He'd recognize that fucker's prissy little voice anywhere. And he was chewing on Hartmann. Spector sat down on the toilet and hoped no one came into the room while he was listening in.

The dizzying drop to the Marriott lobby lay before him. Tach noticed in a detached and clinical sort of way that his hands were gripping the balustrade so tightly that his knuckles had gone white.

Just climb out there. Past the safety wires. Let go. A long fall into peace. A chance to finally rest. To not be responsible. Tears burned his already aching eyes, but the despair passed quickly. He was a prince of the house Ilkazam, and his line did not breed cowards.

Squaring his shoulders he faced the door of Hartmann's suite. Perhaps as Hiram believes there is some logical explanation.

But Digger Jay claimed witnessed Hartmann watching with pleasure as a hunchback ace with hands like buzz saws eviscerated Kahina in the office of the Crystal Palace.

And last night that same hunchback had attempted to kill Sara and Jack.

He killed Andi, he killed Chrysalis, and now he's going to kill me

… me.. me… ME.

The rap of his knuckles on the door sounded loud in the hall. From below the sound of merrymaking drifted upward. Gregg was going over the top, top, top!

And I'm out of time, time, time.

Carnifex opened the door. He seemed shrunken somehow. Misery lurked in his green eyes.

"I need to see the senator, Billy."

The ace indicated with his free hand. Tachyon entered the suite. Gregg was seated in a chair by the window rolling a drink between his palms.

"Celebrating?"

The senator glanced up in surprise. "Well, not just yet, but soon I expect. Where have you been? I sent Jack to look for you. I wanted you to visit Ellen with me."

Tachyon stared at that smooth face. The laugh lines about the eyes. The sensitive mouth that had tightened in anger as the senator had been confronted with barbarism in Syria and South Africa. Tachyon's power quivered like a live thing, but he held it in check, terrified to penetrate the mind behind that familiar, friendly face.

Tachyon stirred slightly. His continued silence seemed to be angering Hartmann.

"What the hell is wrong with you? I'm about to get the nomination."

"Send Ray away."

"What?"

"Send him away."

Hartmann rolled expressive eyes toward the ace. Clearly a humor him expression. The agent nodded and left.

"Now Tachy, what's this all about? Drink?" He hefted the bottle.