Jay could hear the voices through the door, shouting. "Maybe we ought to come back later," Hiram said weakly. "I don't think this is a good time."

"There's no good time for shit like this," Jay told him. He knocked loudly. Silence fell inside. A moment later the door to the suite was flung open. Dr. Tachyon gave them both a look like they were the last two people in the world he wanted to see right now. The little alien was ragged and weary. lie had scratch marks on his face and a puffy split lip. Wordless, he looked at them for a long moment, then stepped back to let them enter.

Hiram moved heavily across the room, brushed aside the drapes, stared blindly out into the Atlanta heat. A teenage boy with painfully bright red hair was looking at Jay curiously. Ackroyd sat on the couch, the garment bag across his lap. No one seemed to want to speak, so Jay had to do it. "Lose the kid," he told Tachyon.

The boy protested. "Heyl"

"Blaise, go," said Tachyon, in a tone that brooked no arguments.

"I thought I'd forfeited the right."

"Go, damn youl"

"Shit, just when things were gettin' interesting." Blaise held up his hands, palms out. "Hey, no problem. I'm gone." When the door banged shut, the quiet fell again. Tachyon made an exasperated gesture. "Hiram, what the devil is this?"

Jay answered. "You gotta run a blood test, doc. Right now"

Tachyon looked about. "What? Here?"

"Don't be dense, and don't be cute," Jay told him. "I'm too fucking tired and I hurt too much to deal with it." He unzipped the garment bag, dragged out the rag that so much blood had been shed on, for, and over. "This is Senator Hartmann's jacket from Syria."

Tachyon looked at the bloodstain as if it might leap off the jacket and devour him. "How did you come to possess this?" he asked, in a voice thickened by fear.

Jay sighed. "That's a long story, and none of us have the time. Let's just say I got it from Chrysalis. It was, well… sort of a legacy."

Nervously clearing his throat, Tach asked, "And just what do you think I am going to find?"

"The presence of Xenovirus Talds-A," Jay said.

The alien stumbled across the room like a zombie and made himself a drink. Jay could have used one, too, but none were being offered. "I see a jacket," Tachyon said when he was well fortified. "Anyone could buy a jacket, doctor it with virus-positive blood-"

Hiram finally spoke up. "That's what I thought. But he's been through too much. The link from Syria to this hotel room is clear. It's the sen-it's Hartmann's jacket."

Tachyon turned to look at Hiram. "Do you want me to do this thing?"

"Do we have any choice?"

"No," said Tachyon, with vast weariness. "I don 7t suppose we have."

Mrs. Starfin was polite in a cold, gracious way. She offered Brennan tea, but no new information on her missing son. Just as Brennan was about to leave the apartment, the phone rang. Mrs. Starfin answered it and gestured at Brennan. "It's for you," she said.

He took it, more than a little surprised. It had to be either Jennifer or Tripod, because they were the only two who knew that he was here.

It was Tripod.

"Yeoman," he said, "I've got something for you."

"What is it?" Tripod's voice was rougher than usual.

"I can't talk over the phone. Meet me at the marina off Beaumont on the south shore of Sheepshead Bay."

"All right," Brennan said. "See you there."

Brennan hung up and bade good-bye to Mrs. Starfin, who was not sorry to see him go. He couldn't get Tripod's tone of voice out of his mind. It sounded as if he'd discovered something bad. Perhaps, Brennan thought, Sascha's body? That would explain his reluctance to discuss his discovery in detail over the phone.

The Beaumont Marina was new and rather high-class. The ships tied in at the various slips were all rich-man crafts, not the skiffs of the casual, weekend sailor.

Brennan prowled among the slips for several minutes before he noticed Tripod standing alone at the end of a dock, looking out over the bay. Brennan hustled over to him. "What's up?" he asked.

Tripod turned to him. His face was battered and bruised. "Sorry, Mr. Y," he said, "they made me make the call." He nodded down at the boat tied into the dock's last slip. It was a sleek twin-engine yacht with the name Asian Princess stenciled on the side. Wyrm was standing there with a grin on his reptilian face, showing lots of teeth. He was accompanied by two Immaculate Egrets and a huge joker. The joker had normal if thick legs, but from the waist up had two torsos, two pairs of shoulders and arms, and two heads.

He seemed vaguely familiar; Brennan realized he'd seen him among the crowd at Squisher's. He must have squealed to Wyrm about Tripod.

"There he is," one of the heads said with satisfaction. "I told you he'd come."

"You were right, Rick," Wyrm said, still smiling.

"I'm Mick," the head said. He jerked a thumb at his other head. "That's Rick. He didn't want to do this."

"I did, too," the other head answered. "No you didn't. You were scared."

"Was not.."

"Was too."

"Was-"

"All right," Wyrm said loudly, interrupting the squabbling heads. "Here." He proffered a roll of bills, which a hand belonging to Mick snatched before Rick could.

"That's mine!" Rick protested.

"Mine tool" Mick said. "I helped beat up the armless geekl"

"Enough!" Wyrm said. His good humor quickly turned to exasperation. He said to Brennan, "You embarrassssed me in front of Sssui Ma," he said. "Now it'ssss payback time. join us on deck, won't you? You too," he said to Tripod.

The Egrets had their guns out, so Brennan wasn't about to argue with Wyrm. He steadied Tripod as the joker stepped onto the gently rocking boat, then followed him onto the deck.

"What do you want?" Brennan asked his old foe. Wyrm's eyes gleamed with returned good humor. "Just a swimming contest. We're going to see if you can swim Ssssheepssshead Bay weighed down by thossse." He pointed at a pair of chains with lead weights attached, then turned to the Egrets. "Tie them up."

The Egrets did so quickly and efficiently while Wyrm covered them and Rick and Mick chatted inanely. When they were trussed up to Wyrm's satisfaction, he ordered the Egrets to take them down into the cabin for safekeeping while Wyrm went to the control console to pilot the ship into deep water. Rick and Mick went to cast off the line.

"Sorry," Tripod said again as they shuffled into the cabin. Brennan's hands and legs, and Tripod's legs, had been bound with rope, but the weighted chains hadn't been added yet.

Brennan shrugged. "There wasn't anything you could do."

The cabin was plush and expensive looking, complete with luxurious sofa, deep pile carpeting, and a wet bar. "How about a drink?" Brennan suggested after Wyrm started the engines and the Princess pulled away from its slip. One of the Egrets laughed. "You don't want to drink before going into the water," he said. "Stomach cramps. I ain't going to be swimming this afternoon, though." Brennan turned to Tripod. "He's probably right," he said. "You can't be too careful when it comes to boats." He swung his bound hands at the closest Egret and caught him square in the throat, crushing his windpipe. As he went down choking, the other Egret whirled, reaching for the gun he'd put down while he was pouring a shot of scotch.

Brennan shuffled forward, crashing into him shoulder first, and they both fell to the floor. The Egret opened his mouth to yell, and Tripod fell on his head, muffling his screams.

Brennan picked up the Egret's gun clumsily with both hands and rammed it against his chest. He pulled the trigger and the Egret jerked once and was still.