a solution, but he had become sure that
one would make itself known; he'd just have to find it.

Egan wasn't there; she was already in surgery. But she'd left word
that he could use her office while he waited, and he appreciated her
thoughtfulness. An Enforcement officer in a civilian hospital waiting
room tended to make patients and visitors nervous; a Special Ops
officer tended to make the staff nervous as well, which bothered him.
And a desk was far more convenient for doing paperwork than a lap.
Odeon sighed as he picked up the form she'd left for him. It was her
recommendation for Joanie's discharge, as promised, and it made no
bones about the seriousness of her injuries, or about the resulting
sterility and constant pain.

Frowning, Odeon read it again--and realized that here was at least part
of his solution. Joanie was sterile, which meant she was eligible for
Special Ops!

Granted that he didn't like either the fact or what had caused it, she
was eligible, and he was positive that--given the cause--she would want
to apply, which could very well give her a bit of an edge staying in.
And he was equally positive that she'd be as outstanding in Special Ops
as she had been in regular Enforcement work. He endorsed the discharge
recommendation with a combined request, for waiver and transfer to
Special Ops, then decided to tackle some paperwork he'd gotten behind
on.

It was several hours before Egan returned to her office, obviously
fatigued, and collapsed into an armchair. Despite his anxiety, Odeon
took time to get her a cup of coffee and let her drink some before he
asked tensely, "How did it go?"

"Better than I expected," Egan said, taking her desk back. "The
operation was as successful as any I've performed." She raised a hand
cautioningly. "That doesn't mean it's good; it isn't. It's just as
good as it can be. She'll be in the pain I told you about, and the
disc is still subject to popping, but it could've been far worse."
Egan rubbed her eyes before going on. "Otherwise, I would say she
will have a complete recovery, with no more than the usual scars.
Except that she refused skin grafts for the brands on her hands."

"Mmm." Odeon frowned, thought for a moment, then smiled slowly. "I
hadn't expected that, but it fits."

"Fits how?" Egan asked in near-exasperation. "I cannot for the life of
me imagine why she would want to live with such reminders, as well as
the pain."

"Not live wi