"Right." He stood up to go
"Wait a minute!"
"You've changed your mind?"
"No! But-"
"Then we have nothing further to talk about." He started for the door.
"Aren't you going to try to . . ."
"What? Convince you?" He looked genuinely puzzled. "Why should I? You're a big boy now. At least that's what you've been telling us for the past three days. You can choose it or not. You don't need the sales pitch. And I don't have anything to sell."
"Aren't you at least going to tell me what it is?"
"No. Not until I know what your agreement is."
"Agreement?"
He looked annoyed. "Your commitment. What is it we can count on you for?"
"To kill Chtorrans. You can count on me for that."
"Good," he said. He returned to his chair. "Now, quit being an asshole about it. We're on the same side. I want the same thing you do. Dead Chtorrans. I want to put you to work. Do you want to work? Or do you want to screw around with politics-like our Fourth World friends?"
I glared at him. I didn't like this at all. But I said, "I want to work."
"Good. So get this-the time is over for games. And that includes self-righteousness. I'm telling you the truth now and you can count on me to keep on telling you the truth." His eyes were fierce. His expression was intense, but unashamed. I felt naked before him. Again.
I said, "This is very hard."
He nodded.
"I don't know if I can believe you or not."
"So don't believe me," Fromkin said. "Your belief is irrelevant. The truth is what's so, whether you believe it or not. The question is, what do you want to do about it?"
"Well-" I began. I felt myself smiling. "Revenge would be silly-"
"It's also out of the question." He smiled back.
"-so I might as well be useful."
"Good idea," Fromkin agreed. He leaned back in his chair. "You know, you may have forgotten, but you're an officer now. You fooled us. Nobody expected you to live long enough to use your commission. But you have, so now we've had to create an appropriate job for you."
"I've got one."
"Eh?"
"I've already got a job," I repeated. "I'm working on the Chtorran ecology. There are too many people making guesses without enough information. There aren't very many people out there actually gathering it. I had an instructor once who said that if you offered him the choice between a dozen geniuses for his lab or a couple of idiots who could handle field work, he'd take the idiots. He said it was more important to observe the facts accurately than to be able to interpret them, because if you observed enough of them accurately, you wouldn't have to interpret them--they'd explain themselves."
"Makes sense. Go on."
"Right. Well, you've got almost nobody out in the field. This war against the Chtorr doesn't exist yet because you-we don't have any intelligence on them!" I thumped my chest meaningfully. "That's my job! I'm an intelligence agent! That's where you need me the most. Because we don't even know yet who or what we're fighting-"
He was holding up one hand to stop me. "Hold it! You're preaching to the choir, son. I got it." He grinned broadly. It was the cheeriest expression I'd ever seen on him. "You know, it's a funny thing. That's exactly the same job we had picked out for you."
"Really?"
"Really." He nodded as he said it. "I'm making the assumption that we are on the same side, then?"
I looked at him. "I guess we are."
He said, "I know. It doesn't feel like it, does it?"
"No, not really. Not yet."
"So I'll tell you this. You don't get to choose your friends or your enemies. They're always thrust on you. All you get to choose is which category you're going to put them in." He grinned. "Wanna be my friend?" He held out a hand.
"Yeah." I took it.
"Thank you," he said, looking into my eyes. His gaze was intense. "We need you." He held onto my hand for a long moment, and I could feel his gratitude, almost like energy, flowing into me. I realized I didn't want to let go.
He smiled at me then, a warm expression like sunrise coming up over a cold gray beach. "You'll do fine. Major Tirelli will be by later to get you started. Do you have any other questions for me now?"
I shook my head. And then I said, "Just one-but it's irrelevant. Does the Mode training really work?"
He grinned. "Yes, it does. It did; I'm sorry it's such a low priority these days." His expression went wistful. "Someday, when there's more time, I'd like to tell you about it."
I said, "I'd like that."
That made him smile proudly. "I think you would." He stood up to go. "Oh, one more thing." He glanced at my meal tray. "Don't drink the orange juice."
"Huh?"
"I said, don't drink the orange juice."
I looked at his face. "I passed another test?"
"Right." He grinned again. "Don't worry, it's the last one."
"Is it?" I asked.
"I sure hope so, don't you?" He was laughing as he left.
I looked at the meal tray. There was a glass of orange juice on it. I poured it into the potted palm.
THIRTY-NINE
THE MORNING sun was very bright, and I felt terrific. My knee hardly hurt at all. The doctors had replaced my kneecap with one grown in a tank and shaved to fit my bones; they told me to minimize my walking for a week-and to guarantee that I did, they put my leg in a case so tight I couldn't bend it. But I could limp-with crutches or a cane-and as soon as I could I was out of the hospital.
I found Ted at the bus station.
He was sitting quietly and waiting. He looked subdued, which surprised me. I guess I didn't know what I was expecting. Silver antennae sticking out of his head? But, no-he was just sitting patiently in a corner, a detached look on his face.
I hobbled over to him, but he didn't see me-not even when I stood in front of him. "Ted?" I asked.
He blinked twice.
"Ted?" I waved a hand in front of his face. He didn't see me. His expression remained unchanged. Not just detached-absent. Blank. Nobody home.
"Ted? It's Jim." He was a zombie.
I sat down next to him and shook his leg. He brushed my hand away. I shook his shoulder and shouted in his ear. "Ted?"
Abruptly, he blinked-and then a confused expression came over his features. He looked like a sleeper awakening suddenly in a strange place. He turned his head slowly and looked at me. Recognition finally came to him. "Jim ... ?"
"Ted, are you all right? I had to knock three times."
"Yeah," he said quietly. "I'm fine. I was just ... plugged in."
"Oh. Well, uh, I'm sorry if I interrupted you. But I just got out of the hospital, and this was my only chance to say goodbye before you shipped out."
"Oh," he said. His voice was flat. Distracted. "Well, thank you."
He started to go emotionless again, but I caught his arm. "Ted, are you all right?"
He looked at me, a flicker of annoyance in his eyes. "Yes, Jim, I'm fine. But there's a transmission coming in from Capetown that I want to return to."
"I got it," I said. "But I want you to take a moment to be with me. Okay?"
He blinked at me. I knew the expression. Bored patience. "What is it, Jim?"
"Well, I thought ... just that... we might have some things to say to each other......"
His voice went distant. "I saw your Chtorran again. We had a transmitter in the front row. He died. I experienced his death."
"Oh," I said. "Uh-that must have been very hard for you."
"It wasn't the first death I've experienced. I've been playing a lot of tapes." Suddenly, he looked very old.
I put my hand on his arm. "Ted, is it hard?"
He looked at me, but didn't answer. Was he listening to another voice again?
"Ted," I said, "what's it like?"
He blinked, and for just a moment he was the old Ted looking out at me from inside his body, and for just that moment I thought I saw stark terror. "Jim," he said intensely, "it's wonderful! And it's ... terrible! It's the most intense and exhilarating experience a human being can have. I've been a thousand different people-I can't explain it. It's all still so confusing. I'm being bombarded with experiences, Jim! Constantly. And I don't know which of them are mine-if any! I don't even know if it's me sitting here talking to you. You could be talking to any telesend on the circuit. I can remote-access anybody else's experience and, if necessary, even take over control. And they can use my body too!"