ut it concealed equally real concern for the woman he represented.
"As you say, Captain. Be sure Captain Cortin will have the best care I
can give her."

This time Odeon stood to bow and answer, formally. "My thanks, Doctor
Egan. When may I see her?"

"Tomorrow afternoon," Egan replied. "I have her scheduled for
surgery--whichever procedure you decided on--at 0800. I assure you she
will be given only those drugs which are absolutely necessary."

"My thanks again, Doctor." Odeon gave her a sketchy salute. "If
you'll excuse me, I have to pick up some forms." At her nod he left,
grateful for her last assurance. It was almost a hundred years since
the Final War--not the nuclear holocaust the prewars had dreaded; there
had been only a few atomics used, and most of those were relatively
clean neutron bombs. The primary weapons had been biological; it was
their devastation that had wiped out over fifty percent of the
Kingdoms' population, and the passage of time hadn't removed the
remainder's sudden overwhelming aversion to "unnatural substances"
imposed on the body. Drugs were used, sparingly, by doctors--and not
so sparingly by Enforcement Service Inquisitors.

* * * * *

The next morning Odeon woke at dawn as he usually did, but instead of
rising at once, he rolled onto his back and laced hands behind his head.

Joanie. She hadn't been beautiful when he first met her, so she never
had been. That suited him well enough; he didn't like the prewar
standard of beauty that still prevailed in many places. Beauties were
too fragile, didn't have the strength of a real woman the way Joanie
did. Tall skinniness was fine in a paid-woman, but Joanie's
compactness was better. Stronger and more suitable for an Enforcement
officer or a mother, anyway-- He pushed that thought aside. Joanie
might be able to stay in Enforcement, but she'd never be a mother.

He tried to remember her as she had been, 165 centimeters and maybe 59
kilos, mostly muscle, of vigorous womanhood. But it'd hurt to see her
lying broken and bloody on the hospital floor, her short dark hair
stiff with drying blood; he couldn't get that image out of his mind, so
he made himself study it instead, trying to bring out anything he
hadn't consciously noted then.

There wasn't much. The hospital hadn't been all that different from
other Brothers of Freedom raid points, except in being a hospital, its
occupants even more he