the discomfort. And as I said, I enjoy watching
others enjoy themselves. So: is there anything more I can do to help?"

"Not with him, no. With others in the future, maybe." Cortin went on
to explain what she would have liked to do, and what she would like
from Chang whenever it was possible. "Can you do that?"

"Easily; as you say, it is minor surgery. However, it may--and I
stress may--not be necessary to settle for function without sensation."

"Nerves don't regenerate," Cortin said flatly. "Dr. Egan was quite
emphatic about that. And the necessary tissue is gone."

"The latter I can do nothing about," Chang conceded. "The first,
however, I am less sure of. With all respect to the good Dr. Egan, I
doubt she follows the doings of Inquisitors on St. Ignatius, while I
have heard rumors that one has had some success in regrowing removed
organs, with restoration of full function." She raised a cautioning
hand. "I believe that to be an exaggeration--such regrowth would, I
believe, require a saint rather than an Inquisitor or medic--but there
is a grain of fact behind any rumor. I would be most happy to
investigate, and, if his actual results warrant, apply his findings to
your problem."

Cortin took a deep breath, held it, and exhaled slowly. Getting her
hopes up, on the basis of some fact that might lie behind a rumor, was
stupid. She knew that, she'd resigned herself to her loss--but
apparently not as well as she'd thought, because she found she was
hoping. Regrowth and restoration of full function would mean the
chance, again, of children--though honesty compelled her to admit that
her failure to become pregnant in years of more than adequate
opportunity meant the chance was vanishingly small. Even the chance of
restored sensation would be worth a lot, though! "Please do,
Lieutenant. Let me know the results as soon as you have something
definite, then we'll base what we do on that."

Chang inclined her head respectfully. "I shall begin at once,
Captain." She left, and Cortin went on to her next subject.

Powell was released the Saturday before the Strike Force's Monday
reassignments, in an area known to be infested with terrorist
sympathizers. He was provided with fresh clothing, a month's supply of
eroticine, an authorization to get more from any medical supply center
he happened to be near--which she didn't expect him to need or use--and
a brief message that "The Bitch" was most definitely