old times," Jason said when Brucco came into the room with a
tray of food. Without a word Brucco served Jason and the wounded men in
the other beds, then left. "Thanks," Jason called after his retreating
back.

A joke, a twist of a grin, like it always was. Sure. But even as he
grinned and his lips shaped a joke, Jason felt them like a veneer on
the outside. Something plastered on with a life of its own. Inside he
was numb and immovable. His body was stiff as his eyes still watched
that arch of alien flesh descend and smother the one-armed Pyrran with
its million burning fingers.

He could feel himself under the arch. After all, hadn't the wounded man
taken his place? He finished the meal without realizing that he ate.

Ever since that morning, when he had recovered consciousness, it had
been like this. He knew that he should have died out there in that
battle-torn street. _His_ life should have been snuffed out, for making
the mistake of thinking that he could actually help the battling
Pyrrans. Instead of being underfoot and in the way. If it hadn't been
for Jason, the man with the wounded arm would have been brought here to
the safety of the reorientation buildings. He knew he was lying in the
bed that belonged to that man.

The man who had given his life for Jason's.

The man whose name he didn't even know.

There were drugs in the food and they made him sleep. The medicated pads
soaked the pain and rawness out of the burns where the tentacles had
seared his face. When he awoke the second time, his touch with reality
had been restored.

A man had died so he could live. Jason faced the fact. He couldn't
restore that life, no matter how much he wanted to. What he could do was
make the man's death worth while. If it can be said that any death was
worth while ... He forced his thoughts from that track.

Jason knew what he had to do. His work was even more important now. If
he could solve the riddle of this deadly world, he could repay in part
the debt he owed.

Sitting up made his head spin and he held to the edge of the bed until
it slowed down. The others in the room ignored him as he slowly and
painfully dragged on his clothes. Brucco came in, saw what he was doing,
and left again without a word.

Dressing took a long time, but it was finally done. When Jason finally
left the room he found Kerk waiting for him.

"Kerk ... I want to tell you ..."

"Tell me _nothing_!" The thunder of Kerk's voice bounce