"So that's it. I've been dry for ten years now. I went back to school, got my doctorate, and now I'm doing exactly what I want to do. I'm back in the driver seat—for good. Thank you for listening."

As he sat down to a round of applause, he thought he heard hurried footsteps in the hall outside. He heard the upstairs door slam. Had someone left while he was speaking? He shrugged. It didn't matter. He'd spoken his piece, done his share. That was what counted.

Lisl composed her emotions as she crossed the street. Ev's story had shocked and moved her. Before tonight he had seemed little more than a collection of compulsive mannerisms. Mr. Machine. Now he was a person, a flesh-and-blood man with a past and a terrible problem, one he had been able to overcome. He'd beaten the bottle, but he didn't trumpet it around like some recovering alcoholics on the faculty; it was Ev's private victory, one he'd kept to himself. Lisl was proud of him, and suddenly proud to know him. And if he wanted his past kept secret, it was safe with her.

She stopped on the sidewalk before the shadowed doorway.

"Let's head back to the car, Rafe."

He stepped out into the light and looked at her expectantly.

"Well?"

"Well, nothing. It was a prayer meeting, that's all. Just a bunch of people sitting around reading from the Bible and stuff like that."

Rafe only stared at her. She hooked her arm through his and started them walking back the way they had come. His voice was very soft when he spoke.

"You wouldn't be telling me a story now, Lisl, would you?"

"And what if I was? What difference would it make?"

"Primes shouldn't lie to each other. I've always been completely honest with you. I expect the same."

Fine. Now she was trapped between two guilts: betray Ev's secret or betray Rafe's trust. She wished they'd stayed home in bed tonight.

"Can't we just drop this whole subject? I'll concede to your position that Ev isn't a Prime and we'll let it go at that, okay?"

Rafe stopped and turned her toward him. His intense stare made her uncomfortable.

"You're protecting him," he said. "Don't do that. He's one of them. He's not worthy of your misdirected loyalty. He wouldn't do the same for you."

"You don't know that."

Rafe sighed. "All right. I'll take you off the hook you've impaled yourself on. I know it's an AA meeting."

Lisl was shocked—and furious.

"You know? You've known all along?"

"I followed him here a couple of weeks ago."

"Then why this cloak-and-dagger charade stuff tonight?"

"Because if I'd told you last week that he's an alcoholic, would you have believed me?"

"Yes," she said immediately, then thought about it. "No. I guess not."

"Exactly. That's why I had to let you find out for yourself. Now there's no question in your mind that he belongs with them instead of us."

"On the contrary. The very fact that he's overcome his alcoholism is proof that he is a Prime. If he weren't, he'd be drunk in a gutter somewhere instead of on the Darnell faculty."

They started walking again.

"I don't know about that. If you think about it you'll see that he really hasn't beaten his problem with alcohol, he's merely found a way to hide from it. He's organized his life in such a way that he never comes within arm's reach of liquor, which is why you've never seen him at faculty parties. That's not conquering the problem, that's running from it. It's the coward's way."

"That's not fair. Alcohol is a toxin for him. I've read that a good percentage of alcoholics have different brain chemistries than the rest of us, and that alcohol does things to them that it doesn't do to you or me. It's not cowardice to avoid something that's poison to your system."

"If he were a Prime, he'd be able to surround himself with liquor and not touch a drop. Or better yet, he'd be able to control himself—have a drink or two and then switch to ginger ale. But he's not a Prime."

"Prime, shmime," Lisl said, wearying of the subject. "Who cares whether Ev is or isn't? What's the point?"

"Very simply, Lisl," he said slowly, and she could hear real anger in his voice, "the point is this: Everett Sanders is your intellectual inferior, yet he is going to move ahead of you in the department simply because he is a man. It's the same pattern as always. They move one of their own ahead and leave you behind where they can still get the benefit of your work and brains and innovation yet give the credit and status to a lesser mind. It infuriates me every time I see it happen and I will not permit it to happen to you!"

"Easy, Rafe. You don't know if that's going to happen. There's no sense in getting yourself all riled up when—"

"Lisl, it's already been decided."

The words struck her like a blow. She stumbled against Rafe as her feet refused to walk any further.

"What? How can you say that?"

"I overheard your pal Sanders talking to Dr. Masterson at lunch last month—"

"Last month? And you didn't tell me?"

She could see his face in the glow of the streetlight. His expression was tortured.

"I didn't know how to tell you. I knew it would hurt you. I… I was afraid it would crush your spirit."

For the first time since she'd met him, Rafe seemed unsure of himself. And all because of his feelings for her. At any other time it would have warmed Lisl, but the good feeling was swept away by the arctic wind of her growing anger.

"What exactly did they say?"

"I caught only part of it, but I heard the chairman saying that he hoped your paper wasn't very good, because if it was he'd have to do some fast talking to explain to you why he was giving Ev tenure instead of you. He asked Sanders if he had any suggestions on how to let you down easy so you wouldn't start applying to other universities."

"What did Ev say?"

"I don't know. I was too angry to listen. It was right after that I started auditing Sanders's classes. I wanted to do something but I didn't know what. At least I didn't then. I know now."

"What?" Lisl said eagerly. She felt betrayed, hemmed in, and utterly helpless. If Rafe knew a way out, she'd take it.

"Follow me."

He took her hand and led her across the street toward an apartment building. She recognized it immediately.

"Ev's place? What are we going to—?"

"Just trust me. You'll see."

Using the duplicates of Ev's keys, he led her inside and up to the apartment.

"Isn't this a little risky? I mean, he could come back at any minute."

"Those meetings average a good two hours or more." He opened the door and led her to the kitchen counter where he turned and faced her. "We've got plenty of time."

"For what?"

Rage reached inside his jacket pocket and held out a slim glass tube.

"For this."

She took it and held it up to the light. A test tube, filled with clear fluid. It looked like water but Lisl knew it wasn't. Suddenly she was uneasy.

"What is it, Rafe?"

"Pull the stopper and sniff."

She did. There was a very faint odor, too faint to identify.

"I don't know…"

"Absolute ethanol. Pure alcohol. Nearly odorless, almost tasteless when mixed with fruit juice."

"Oh, no," she said as she felt her stomach begin to tighten. "You can't be serious."

Rafe went to the refrigerator and brought back an open half gallon of orange juice. He placed it on the counter between them.

"I've never been more serious in my whole life. Pour it in, Lisl."

"No. I can't do that to Ev!"

"Why not?"

"Because it's poison for him!"

"It's only an ounce, Lisl. Two tablespoons."

"That doesn't matter. Even a drop could start chemical reactions in his brain and knock him off the wagon. We could be sending him off on a real bender."

Rafe shrugged. "If that's what he wants, then so be it."