There was a long moment of silence. Jay stared at Brennan. Brennan stared back. Tachyon looked helplessly from one to the other, then struggled to rise from his chair. With only one hand, it was a painful, clumsy process.

"I can get a finger up pretty damn quickly," Jay said to Brennan.

"The moment you even start to lift that hand, I'm going to squeeze this trigger," Brennan told him. "What are the odds on you being able to teleport a bullet in flight?"

"A million to one," Jay admitted. "But only if you don't hesitate. A split second of indecision, and you'll be shooting through the bars in the Tombs."

"Do I look like the hesitating sort?" Brennan asked quietly. His hand was very steady.

Jay thought about that one and didn't much like what he came up with. He risked a quick glance back over his shoulder. Hiram sat slumped on the corner of the bed, staring off into space, completely out of it. Whatever the hell was about to go down, it didn't look like the huge ace was going to be much of a factor.

"There's someone else," Tachyon said softly. His head moved slowly from side to side, searching. "Another mind. In the wall."

"Real good," Jay said sourly. He felt ill, but he should have seen it coming. "The phantom bimbo, right?"

"Changes the odds a little, doesn't it?" Brennan said, smiling.

Jay flexed his fingers and stared down the barrel of Brennan's Walther. It reminded him how much he hated guns, and the kind of assholes who carried them around.

From the look in Brennan's cool gray eyes, he had just about run out of time. There was nothing left but to go for it.

Brennan felt a vise clamp down on his brain. For a panicked moment he thought he was having a seizure of some kind, but then he realized that it was Tachyon. Tachyon's mind control. He raged against it, pushing with all the strength he had in mind and body. But it was useless. The only part of his body that he could move was his eyeballs. He glanced around the room and saw Jennifer walk woodenly out of the walls.

"Nice work, doc," Ackroyd said. "Now-"

"No."

"Look, goddammit "

"Decisions must be made. Discussed and made."

"I've made my decision."

"And I don't agree," Tachyon said flatly. "Grant me a little consideration in this, Ackroyd. I stand between three friends." The detective stared at Brennan. "Friends," he snorted. Tachyon lowered himself slowly back into his chair. Brennan could see the strain on his face, but the mental vise he'd placed upon Brennan's mind still held. "We will talk," the alien said, "but peace will lie upon this room."

Bending, Tachyon pulled his dagger from its boot sheath and dropped it on the carpet at his feet. Jennifer walked woodenly toward Tachyon and dropped her gun next to the knife. Tachyon turned to Brennan. "Daniel, will you lay down your weapon?"

There was no sense being stupidly stubborn. There was no way he could break Tachyon's mind control, and there was no way anything further would happen if he insisted on keeping his gun. He nodded, almost imperceptibly.

"And Ackroyd?" Tachyon asked. "What about you?"

"I hate this Takisian bullshit."

"I could take control of you and make you a dummy in these talks. I would prefer not to."

"Yeah, well, okay."

"Hands in pockets, please."

Tachyon released Brennan. He stepped forward and dropped his gun at Tachyon's feet. He looked at the alien with anger and bitterness in his eyes. "You betrayed me," he said.

"I prevented murder," the alien snapped. "Self-defense-"

"Oh, please! We bandy with words. Killing, it's all killing! You kill Jay because he attempts to put you in the Tombs. You kill Hiram because you get to mete out justice. The end result is all the same-death! And it's got to stop!" Tachyon pressed the heel of his hand against his head as if trying to push back agony. He turned to Worchester, who had been a mute witness to this all. "Hiram, what do you intend to do?"

"That's already been decided," said Jay. "We'll take-"

"Shut up! Hiram?"

"I'll return to New York and turn myself over to the authorities."

"I'll accept that," Brennan said. It was a reasonable end to their difficulties. It was a solution Chrysalis would understand. "I don't recall him asking your fucking opinion," Jay gritted.

"He'd better take it into consideration," Brennan said. He turned to face Worchester. "If you get to the airport and change your mind, if you decide to run, you'd better know now that you'll never have another day's peace. I'll be coming for you."

"You utterly amaze me, Daniel, with your rigid, selfrighteous certainty," Tachyon said. "Who made you God? Who gave you the right to place your judgment above all others?"

Brennan barked a short, harsh laugh. "That's funny coming from you, Tachyon. Release Jennifer."

"No," Tachyon said, shaking his head.

"Why not?" Brennan asked, flaring with anger he could no longer suppress. "We have an agreement."

Jay plunged forward. "We've agreed to nothing. Hiram stands trial and maybe goes to prison for a mistake, while this guy walks free? Fuck that! If his little war excuses him, then Hiram should be completely exonerated."

"Jay," Tachyon said, shaking his head, "you've allowed your anger to replace your brains. Elmo stands accused of a crime he did not commit. Hiram has confessed to it. He must stand trial."

"Yeah, but we're talking involuntary manslaughter here. Voluntary manslaughter, tops. Hiram may walk out of that courtroom with probation." Jay jerked a thumb at Brennan. "How's Danny Boy gonna take that?"

"We'll all have to see, won't we?" Brennan said coldly.

"To hell with that," Jay said. "Why don't we let Hiram write out his confession and then get on a plane to Tibet or wherever the hell he wants to go?"

"He'll die before he ever reaches that plane," Brennan said softly.

"Not if you're behind bars."

Hiram stirred and got off the bed. He no longer looked lost, victimized. It seemed as if he'd made a decision and was determined to carry it through. "You can talk until you're both damned," he said. "This is my decision to make, and I will go to New York and stand trial because I choose to." He looked directly at Brennan. "And not because I'm afraid of you. I'm not."

And Brennan could see that that was true. Hiram had been through the fire and emerged cleansed. He looked as if he feared nothing now.

"Hiram-" Jay began.

"Jay, your friendship warms me, but I must do this. I've been a puppet for too long. First with… him… then with Ti Malice. Well, it's all over. I'm through being a puppet."

"Hiram's right," Tachyon said passionately. "Don 7t any of you understand? Hiram's trial is critical, not only for Elmo or Hiram, but for aU of us. The law is the witness of our moral life. Its history is the history of the moral development of your race. But my race upset the balance. We created superhumans, and the result has been a growing chaos. The Turtle assaults with impunity because he is armored literally and figuratively with the secret of his identity. I invade people's minds. You, Jay, violate their civil liberties. And Daniel, you kill them. If we don't demonstrate our willingness to abide by the rule of law, then we are everything Barnett says we are. We are dangerous and heedless and deserve to be controlled since we are unwilling or unable to abide by the rules of civilized society"

"That's fascinating," Brennan said dryly, "but you missed something. I'm not a wild card. I'm just a nat."

Jay whirled on him. "You bastard. Tachyon, all you've done is convince me that I'm right, and that this killer should be behind-"

Jay cut off in midsentence. Brennan looked at Tachyon, pale and shaken, who had half risen out of his chair.

"Yes," Tachyon said wearily. "I am once again playing God. Go, Daniel. Take your lady and go. Never return. If you do, know that I will not aid you."