4:00 P.M.

When Jack stepped into Tachyon's hospital room, he saw the red-haired alien writhing on the bed, clutching his stump.

"Jesus," Jack muttered, and walked fast to the bed. "What just happened?"

"I keep reaching for things with my right hand." Limply. "Call the nurse. Put your stump in a sling, help you remember."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Still cradling his stump.

Jack reached for a cigarette and lit up. "You want me to call the nurse, get you a shot?"

"No." Tachyon's mouth was a thin line.

Jack blew smoke at him. "People think I'm a macho asshole. They haven't dealt with Takisian princes, that's all." He glanced around the room. "Has Blaise been here today?"

"I've been sort of looking for him. I want to make sure he's okay."

"I have not seen him." Worry crossed Tachyon's features. "Someone saw hirn with Jay Ackroyd. That detective guy who zapped that freak away before I could pound him."

"And saved my life, from all reports," Tachyon pointed out. His left hand touched his stump. "If Blaise is unsupervised he could get into trouble."

"Precisely my thought."

Tachyon's manner turned imperious again. "Find my grandchild, Jack."

"I'll try."

Tachyon sat up; pointed with his good hand at the closet. "Get my clothes, will you?"

Jack looked at the alien in surprise. "Tach, don't worry. I'll find him."

"I must go to the convention."

Jack laughed nervously. "It's all over. You don't have to go anywhere."

Tachyon froze, his violet eves wide. "What do you mean?" Jack gave a sigh. "No one's told you, huh?"

"What happened?"

Jack hesitated. He didn't want to get into this. He took a long drag of smoke, tried to get it over with fast. "Gregg and Jesse cut a deal. Jackson withdrew and threw his support to Gregg. Gregg's got the nomination, Jackson will be veep."

"No." Tachyon's eyes dilated in horror. "No, no, no." Impatience rattled through Jack's mind. "Will you stop worrying about Gregg's stability, for heaven's sake? He put this whole deal together. He's on top of things, okay? Even with all these aces gunning after him."

"No! No! No!" A jolt of horror ran through Jack as Tachyon raised his right arm high, them brought his stump smashing down on the railing of his bed. The stump smashed down again and again.

Jack dropped his cigarette and grabbed Tach's arms. He wrestled the thrashing alien back to the mattress, held him till he calmed down. "What the hell's the matter with you?" Tachyon just glared at him.

The thought struck Jack with the force of a hurricane. Suddenly he felt as if he were. blown off his feet, whirled away into darkness, carried off somewhere without light, without security, without hope.

"Gregg, right?" he said. "Gregg's the secret ace." Tachyon just looked away.

"Talk to me, damn it!"

"I cannot."

Jack's knees felt as if they wouldn't support him. He lurched backward, groping for a chair, and sat down. His cigarette was smoldering on the floor and he picked it up, took a long drag. A tentative, fragile calm descended on him.

"Tell me, Tach," be said. "I need to know. I need to know if I fucked up again."

Tachyon closed his eyes. "It no longer matters, Jack."

"The one thing I do right. The one thing I do right in years, and-" Jack looked in surprise at the cigarette he had just crushed in his hand. He looked for some place to put it, found none, shrugged, dusted it off onto the floor.

"Tach," Jack said. "I need to know this. I got Gregg nominated, never mind how I did it. I need to know whether I did good or not."

Tachyon's eyes were still closed. Jack looked at him in rising anger.

"Are we going to have to play twenty questions here, Tach?"

Tachyon said nothing. "Is Gregg a secret ace?" No answer.

"Sara Morgenstern accused Gregg of being a killer. Is that true?"

Nothing.

"The little freak who tried to kill Sara. Does he work for Gregg?"

The last words were a shout. Tachyon just lay there, his eyes closed. Finally he spoke.

"Go away. It's over. There's nothing we can do."

Rage blazed in Jack's mind. He rose from his chair, lunged over the bed to shout in the alien's face. "You're so arrogant," he said. "You're such a goddamn prince. You say it's over, so it's over. You say that people should stop supporting Hartmann, and you give no reason, but they're supposed to go along with you because you're a Takisian prince and you know better than anyone else. Has it ever occurred to you that if you'd just fucking condescended to tell some of us lowly Earth scum about Gregg, we might have managed to put the brakes to his campaign without getting Barnett elected? Instead you just ordered me to deliver California to Jackson, and expected me to say, Yeah, your lordship, whatever you say." Jack shook his fist in front of Tachyon's closed eyes. "Has it ever occurred to you that maybe you can trust a human being now and again? Has it?"

No answer.

"Damn you anyway!"

Tachyon said nothing. Jack turned and bolted the room like a runaway locomotive. His rage fueled his long stride out of the hospital, down the corridor, out into a blazing, humid afternoon that seemed to suck the anger right out of his body. He headed vaguely toward the Omni. He really didn't have anywhere to go. He didn't know what to do about Hartmann, and Blaise could be on this particular street as well as anywhere.

If only the goddamn alien had trusted us, Jack thought. Then it occurred to him that maybe it was he, Jack, years ago, who had taught Tachyon not to trust anyone, not with anything that mattered.

That thought depressed him all the way home.

The speech was set, protocol for the evening's speeches had been set with Devaughn and Jackson's staff, Gregg had called the other candidates personally and asked each of them to join him on the campaign road in their home states. Dukakis and Gore had been politely enthusiastic, congratulating him on the victory and promising their help to unify the party. Only Barnett had been cool, as Gregg had expected.

To hell with him. We'll take him as a puppet and play with him the next time we meet.

Ellen was sleeping. Calderone's latest version of the acceptance speech was in the Compaq waiting for him. He could hear Colin, the joker Secret Service who had replaced Alex James, scuffing his feet outside the room.

Gregg kissed Ellen, saw her eyes flutter open. "I'm going back to the hotel and meet with Logan and a few others," he whispered. Ellen nodded sleepily.

Gregg packed the Compaq into its bag and collected Colin at the door. "Heading back to the Marriott," Colin said into his walkie-talkie. "Bring the car around to the side entrance. Get some people on the elevators."

On the first floor, Gregg heard a familiar voice at the desk. "Please, mister. Listen, they're for the senator's wife…" Peanut. Puppetman stirred.

"Just a minute, Colin…" Gregg headed for the lobby, Colin relaying the change of plans to the others.

Peanut was holding a rather bedraggled but huge bouquet of flowers, trying to give it to the guard behind the desk. The man shook his head repeatedly, grimacing.

"What's the problem, Marvin?"

He'd met Marvin while wandering the hospital this morning. Marvin was a slow moving and lazy security guard, the butt of a dozen jokes Gregg had heard over the last few days from the doctors, the nursing stag, and the orderlies. They'd shaken hands in passing: Puppetman had sensed immediately Marvin's distaste for his job. In fact, there didn't seem much that Marvin liked at all, jokers least of all.

"He wants me to take the flowers up to your wife's room," Marvin growled, pulling at the belt slung underneath the overhang of belly. Marvin didn't like politicians either, especially Democrats. He eyed Colin's blue-suited athletic figure with contempt. "Looks like he got them outta some damn trash can, if you ask me."