"There's a way to use the surge-suppressor…part of the line conditioner…what they plug in to hold the data if there's a power outage…you could use that to eat the virus instead of the data."

"I don't…"

"Another module. It goes in the line conditioner. Then you drop the power, just a little bit, and the suppressor kicks in, finds the virus, and eats it. And gets out without a trace."

"How long would it take?"

The Mole snapped his fingers. "A thousandth of that."

"Damn."

"I'm still working on it. It's not ready."

I lit a cigarette, leaving the pack on the table in case Terry wanted one. He took out his own- I guess they weren't expecting Michelle.

"Mole, you know anything about tumors?"

"What kind?"

"Brain tumors?"

"Yes."

"Could a tumor make a man kill?"

"It's not so simple," he said. Annoyed at having to explain. "It could make a man mad. Irrational. It couldn't make a man different from what he is… just what he does, you understand?"

He watched my face, got his answer. Went on. "Tumor, it's a growth. Different parts of the brain control different functions. A tumor gets in the way. Changes things. Behavior is one of those things."

"Mole, you know Wesley?"

"Only what people say."

"He kills people. That's what he does. I've known him since we were kids. He doesn't have…feelings. You understand? He told me once, you want to kill a man sleeping in a house, you don't go in after him, you set fire to the house. Everybody dies. Makes it hard on the cops. The more bodies, the more motives. You can't be born like that, right?"

"Everybody's born like that."

"What?"

"Everybody. Humans are born into the world screaming for what they want. They feel their own feelings. They have no pack instincts, like dogs. A baby is a monster."

"So a baby raised by wolves, it would be a wolf?"

"It would be a man who behaves like a wolf."

I dragged on my smoke. I could never keep the Mole talking for long. Terry was watching, focused. Maybe the Mole wasn't talking to me.

"Wesley was always like that," I told him. "He never cried, never laughed. He has no fear in him. Nothing in him at all."

"That's not what you said at first," the Mole replied, his eyes impossible to read through the thick smudged lenses of his glasses. "Babies have all those things. Babies learn to feel past their own feelings- that's what we teach them."

"Psychology…"

"This isn't psychology. Not a soft science. Animals adapt or they die. That is a biological law. Sometimes things are left over, vestiges. Like the appendix. We don't need it. Eventually, it will disappear from our bodies. Biology…it's like what Max does…we have to use power, not resist it. Things get left over…we are only here for a short time, so we adapt. Or we die."

"Left over…"

"Sex. That's left over." Terry shifted his posture, dragging on his smoke. "You know the orgasmic curve…different for men than women?"

"You mean it takes them longer to come?"

The Mole's lips tightened primly. "To reach orgasm, yes. Do you know why?"

"The way they're put together…I don't know."

"Herd animals, they mate serially, you understand? There's a fail-safe biological response to every genetic code or the organism dies."

"Come on, Mole. Talk English."

Another annoyed look. "A herd of elk. Mating season. The bucks fight it out. And the winner gets to mate with the entire crop of females, right? That's the genetic code. So the strongest, most powerful stud mates with the females and the babies have the best DNA."

"Yeah…"

"What if the strongest male is sterile? What if he has a low sperm count? What happens then?"

I glanced at Max. The Mole hadn't moved his hands once, but the warrior watched as intently as the kid.

The Mole answered his own questions. "The herd dies off. So the fail-safe kicks in. When the females are in season…when they are in heat…the bucks smell it and they start to fight. The winning buck mates with a female, he discharges his sperm, then he moves off to wait for his power to recharge. But the female, she is still in heat. While the winning buck mates with another, one of the other bucks, one of the losers in the fight, he mounts her too. They all do that. If the first discharge of sperm is potent, the genes from the strongest buck make a baby. But if it isn't, the next one…or the one after that…takes. And they have babies. The strongest babies survive, and the pack lives on. Understand?"

"Okay, but…"

"If the females reached orgasm faster than the males, they would pull away. Animals don't commit rape- the females must be willing. The mating wouldn't be completed. The orgasmic curve is longer. Much longer. Long enough for the first buck, long enough for the bucks to follow."

"That's why women take longer to…"

"Yes."

"So one day they'll get off as quick as we do?"

Something less than a smile ghosted on the Mole's lips. "Yes. In another half million years or so. You won't be around to see it."

I lit another smoke. Thinking about it. How Mercy said money was her lubricant. "Wesley…he adapted?"

"To something. I don't know what."

"How do you know…that he adapted?"

"He has many enemies. And he isn't dead."

THE PLYMOUTH pussyfooted its way through the maze of twisted little roads. I pulled to the side. Max's door opened. The interior light didn't come on. He vanished.

I parked where I had the last time. Got out nice and slow.

"Go ahead and light your smoke." A voice behind me.

I felt him next to me. Turned to look. His hands weren't empty this time.

"Tell the Chinaman to come out. Listen to my voice. I'm telling you the truth, Burke. You don't call him out, I'll waste you right here. Whatever happens, you're dead."

If this was the movies, I'd have heard the sound of the Uzi being cocked. This was Wesley- I knew it already was. They say Wesley files the safety off his guns. I pulled the white handkerchief out of my coat sleeve. Waved it high above my head in a circle, stopped the circle right in front of me. Max was coming whether Wesley killed me or not- this way there'd be two of us. Maybe…?

Wesley was on my right, the Uzi in my rib cage. Max came forward, making enough noise so we'd hear him. He kept walking. A lumbering, thug's walk, giving no hint of the speed and grace in the thick body. A locomotive that makes its own tracks. He stopped ten feet away, right in front of us.

"Close enough," Wesley said.

I held a palm out to Max to keep him where he was. The Mongolian dropped his left shoulder a fraction. If he went, he'd go to Wesley's left. I pushed my weight against the stubby barrel of the machine gun, ready to lock my elbow over it, hug my death close to me if it came. Wesley was right. Close enough. For Max. I'd go first, but Wesley would be right behind me.

"You wanted to talk?" I asked the monster.

"You think I didn't know the Chinaman was here last time?"

"I didn't know myself."

"I know. That's why you got to walk away. But you knew this time."

"Okay."

"Max the Silent, right? That's him?"

"That's him."

"Looks like a real bone-breaker."

"He's here for me, not you."

"I know. Tell him I got a gun on you."

"He knows."

"So why'd he come out?"

"He's my brother."

"Yeah. That's nice. I had a brother too."

"I never knew that. Where is he?"

"Dead."

Like you, I thought, taking the last puff of my cigarette, tossing it away. "What d'you want, Wesley?"

"You like the job on Sutton Place?"

"Why'd you do it?"

"They owe me money."

"I know. I met with one of them earlier tonight. They want you bad. They're going to get word out that they'll pay. They want me to deliver the cash."