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"Wally!" Nim said. "How great to see you! I didn't know you were out of the hospital."

"Got out a couple of weeks ago, though not for good. I still have a lot of repair work ahead. Can we talk?"

"Sure. Let's find someplace quiet." He had intended to look for Ruth and the children but could meet them later in the suite.

They went down by elevator to the main floor. In a comer near a stairway two chairs were unoccupied and Nim and Wally went toward them, Wally using his canes a trifle awkwardly, but obviously preferring to manage by himself.

"Watch it, please!” A figure in smart blue-gray coveralls moved past, maneuvering a two-wheel trolley on which were balanced three red fire extinguishers. "Won't be a moment, gentlemen. Just have to put one of these in place." the man, who was young, lifted aside one of the chairs they were beaded for, set down a fire extinguisher behind it, then returned the chair to its original position. He smiled at Nim. "That's all, sir. Sorry to have held you up."

"You didn't." Nim remembered having seen the man earlier this morning, driving one of the trucks which police escorted in during the p & lfp demonstration.

It occurred to Nim that putting a fire extinguisher out of sight behind a chair was a strange arrangement. But it was none of his business and presumably the man knew what he was doing. His coveralls were lettered "Fire Protection Service, Inc."

Nim and Wally sat down.

"Did you see that guy's hands?" Wally asked.

"Yes." Nim had noticed that the young man's bands were badly stained, probably from careless use of chemicals.

"He could fix that with a skin graft." Wally grinned again, this time ruefully. "I'm getting to be an expert on that subject."

"Never mind anybody else," Nim said. "Tell me about you."

"Well, just as I said, the skin grafts I'm having will take a long time. A little at a time is how it works."

Nim nodded sympathetically. "Yes, I know."

"But I got some good news. I thought you'd like to share it. I'm getting a new dong."

"You're what?"

"You heard me right. You remember my old one was burned off?"

"Of course I remember." Nim would never forget the doctor's words the day after Wally's electrocution. ". . . The electricity passed over the upper surface of his body and exited . . . by the route of his penis . . . It was destroyed. By burning. Totally . . ."

"But I still have sexual feeling there," Wally said, "and it can be used as a base. That's why I was sent to Houston last week-to Texas Medical Center. They're doing wonderful things there, especially for people like me. There's a doctor named Brantley Scott who's been the mastermind; he's going to build me a new penis, and he promises it will work.,,

"Wally," Nim said, "I'm happy for you, but how the hell can anyone do that?"

"It's done partly by special skin grafts, partly by something called a penile prosthesis. That's a little pump, some tubes and a tiny reservoir, all connected, and implanted in the body surgically. The whole thing is made of silicone rubber, the same stuff that's used for heart pacemakers.

Actually, it's a substitute for what nature gave us in the first place."

Nim asked curiously, "Does it really work?"

"Damn right it works!” Wally's enthusiasm bubbled on. "I've seen it. I also found out there are hundreds of people who've been fitted, who've had the surgery, successfully. And, Nim, I'll tell you something else."

"What?"

"That penile prosthesis isn't only for people like me, people who got injured. It's for others-older men usually, who are normal except they've run out of steam and can't make it with a woman anymore. What it does is give them a whole new lease on life. How about you, Nim? Do you need help?"

"Not that kind. Not yet, thank God!"

"But you might someday. Just think of it No sexual hangup-ever. You could go to your grave with an erection."

Nim grinned. "And what would I do with it there?"

"Hey, there's Mary!" Wally exclaimed. "She came to pick me up. Can't drive a car myself yet."

Across the lobby Nim could see Mary Talbot, Wally's wife. She had spotted them and was coming over. Beside her, Nim saw with some concern, was Ardythe Talbot. He had neither seen nor heard from Ardythe since their encounter at the hospital when she hysterically blamed her own and Nim's "sin" for Wally's troubles. Nim wondered if she had modified her religious fervor.

The signs of strain were on both women. It was, after all, only seven months since Walter Talbot's tragic death during the bombing at La Mission plant, and Wally Jr.'s accident had happened just a few weeks later. Mary, who had been slim for as long as Nim remembered her, had noticeably put on weight; worry and unhappiness could account for that, of course. And her gamine look had modified, making her seem older. Nim found himself hoping that what Wally had just told him worked. It if did, it should help them both.

Ardythe appeared to be a little better than when he had last seen her, but not much. In contrast to the way she had been immediately before Walter's death-handsome, stylish, athletic-she was now just another elderly woman. But she smiled at Nim, and greeted him with friendliness, which relieved him. They chatted. Nim expressed pleasure once more at seeing Wally mobile. Mary said someone had told her, on her way in, about Nim's speech and she congratulated him. Ardythe reported that she had found some more of Walter's old files and wanted GSP & L to have them. Nim offered to collect them if she wished.

“There's no need for that," Ardythe said bastily. "I can send them to you. There aren't as many as last time and ..."

She stopped. "Nim, what's wrong?"

He was staring at her, startled, his mouth agape.

"Last time. . ." Walter Talbot's files!

"Nim," Ardythe repeated, "is anything the matter?" Mary and Wally were looking at him curiously too.

"No," be managed to say, "No, it's just that I remembered something."

Now he knew. Knew what that missing piece of information was which had nagged at his mind, yet eluded him, since that day in Eric Humphrey's office with the chairman, Harry London, and Mr. Justice Yale. It was in Walter Talbot's old files, the files Ardythe had given Nim, in several cardboard cartons, shortly after Walter's death. At the time Nim had gone through them briefly; now they were stored at GSP & L.

"I guess we'd better go," Wally said. "It was nice seeing you, Nim."

”The same here," Nim responded, "and, Wally-good luck in everything]"

When all three had gone, Nim stood rooted, thinking. He knew what was there now, in those files. He knew, too, what had to be done. But he must verify, authenticate his memory, first.

In another three days. Immediately after the convention.

2

Rush, rush, rush! That was always the way it was, Nancy Molineaux thought as she pushed her Mercedes well past the speed limit, taking chances in the traffic, keeping a wary eye on the rear view mirror for any cruising cops.

The pressures of life never seemed to let up for a single goddam day.

She had hurriedly phoned in her story on Goldman, which would appear in this afternoon's edition, and now-already ten minutes late was on the way to meet Yvette. Nancy hoped the girl would have sense enough to wait.

This afternoon Nancy had some loose ends of other work to clear up, for which she would need to return to the Examiner office. Ob yes, and somehow she had to sandwich in time to get to the bank because she needed money. She had a dentist appointment at four. Then, this evening she had promised to go to two parties, one a "drop in," early, and another which would groove on for sure until well past midnight.