The man pulled her down on his lap, laughing. "Playin' hard to get, eh?

Well. I know what you like!" Jenny struggled as the man started roughly fondling her breast. The other men at the table were laughing and egging their companion on.

"Excuse me," Finn said, pushing back his chair. He went over to their table. Jenny was making angry, whimpering sounds as the man forced his kisses on her. "I think I heard the lady ask to be let go," said Finn.

The man stopped kissing Jenny and stared up at Finn belligerently, though he still held onto her tightly.

"What the hell business is it of yours?"

"I just don't like seeing women bullied, that's all." Finn said.

"Is that so? Well now, just what do you intend to do about it?"

"How about if I break your knees" asked Finn, with a smile.

"Hey, now! I don't want any trouble in here!" the barman shouted.

"You stay out of this, Lem! It ain't none of your concern!" shouted the cowboy.

Lem didn't seem inclined to make it his concern. The cowboy let Jenny go and stood up. He was a beefy man, as big as Finn, though heavier and not as muscular.

"Mister, you just bought into a pack of trouble."

Delaney hit him in the face with a quick, sharp blow and the man dropped like a felled tree. His three friends were on their feet in an instant. One of them swung at Finn. Delaney caught his fist in his left hand, then brought his right hand up to cover it, gave a quick, sharp twist and the man howled as his wrist bone snapped like a twig. The other man had picked up a chair and was bringing it down hard. Delaney swung the man with the broken wrist around and made him take the blow. The chair broke over the man's head and Delaney released him as he went down. The third man was reaching into the pocket of his coat. Delaney snatched up a half empty whiskey bottle from the table and smashed it into the man's face. Whiskey, broken glass, blood and a few teeth spattered on the table as the man went down.

The man who'd swung the chair came up with a bowie knife he had in his boot. Delaney just looked at him and grinned. The man with the knife found the grin highly disconcerting. The knife made sweeping arcs in front of him as he bent over in a crouch. Cards, glasses and coins rained to the floor as Delaney picked up the table and ran it at him.

"Jesus . . . !" yelled the man with the knife as the table struck him and he was propelled back against the wall, struck it hard and remained there, pinned by the table. The knife fell to the floor. Delaney dropped the table on the man's feet.

"Yowww.”

And then Delaney struck him once and knocked him out.

“Great day in the morning!" someone said.

A few people applauded and whooped. Delaney turned and gave them a small bow.

“I’d like to thank you, mister."

Finn turned to see Jenny standing behind him.

"My pleasure, Ma'am."

“Can I buy you a drink?"

"I'd be delighted."

He glanced at Stone, who was watching him thoughtfully. Stone gave a slight smile, inclined his head and raised his glass to him.

"My name is Jennifer," the girl said. 'Jennifer Reilly. What's yours?"

"Delaney. But my friends just call me Finn."

"You sure do handle yourself well, Finn Those boys can be pretty mean."

"Oh, I thought they seemed right sociable." said Finn.

Jenny smiled. Oh, dear, thought Finn, not immune to its effects. What's a heartbreaker like you doing in a place like this? One of the men behind him groaned from the floor, but made no move to get up.

"I'm afraid that coming to my rescue might have brought you trouble." Jenny said. "Those men are Johnny Ringo's boys. And they've got friends."

"I'd be happy to make their acquaintance," Finn said. raising his glass to her.

"I'm not sure you'd like that too much." she replied. "What you did was very gallant, but I don't want to mislead you. I'm spoken for."

"So I heard." said Finn. "I'd say the Montana Kid's a lucky man."

"He'll appreciate what you did for me tonight," said Jenny. "I'll be sure to tell him when he gets back to town. I think the two of you might like each other."

"Well, if you think highly of him, then I'm sure that I will, too," said Finn. He turned around and glanced toward Stone's table. The gambler was gone. He felt a light touch on his arm.

"You're pretty good with your fists there, cowboy," said a husky, female voice. "My! Strong, too!"

He turned to see an attractive young redhead smiling at him.

"Finn, I'd like you to meet my good friend. Becky," Jenny said. "Becky, this here's Mr. Finn Delaney."

"Pleased to meet you," Finn said.

"That was a nice thing that you did for Jenny." Becky said. "Those boys had it comin'."

"I thought so," Finn replied.

"Too bad that Jenny's already spoken for." said Becky. "But I'm sure she wouldn't mind if I was to thank you for her."

She stood up on tiptoe and kissed him. She took her time about it and she seemed sincere.

"You're welcome," Finn said somewhat breathlessly, when she broke off the kiss.

"Well now, I haven't thanked you, yet," said Becky, with a smile and a smoldering look. "That was just to introduce myself. Jenny, you'll send up a bottle, won't you, dear?" She took Finn by the arm. "Would you be so kind as to escort me to my room, sir?"

7

"Now let me get this straight," hissed Andre, furiously. "I was up all night, worried about where you were, and you were off getting your ashes hauled with some bimbo?"

“It wasn't exactly the sort of situation I could have backed out of.”

Delaney protested, whispering so as not to wake Lucas, who was stretched out on the bed.

"Oh, really? What did she do, force you?"

"Come on, Andre, give me a break, for Christ's sake! It would have looked a little strange for a cowboy fresh off the trail to turn down a proposition from a woman like that! Besides, I thought I might learn a thing or two."

"Well. I hope she was a good teacher." Andre said.

"That isn't what I meant, dammit!"

“What's going on?" Lucas mumbled from the bed. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, "Finn! What happened?"

"He was out getting laid, that's what happened." Andre said.

"What?" said Lucas.

“It wasn't like that." Delaney protested. He quickly brought Lucas up to date on what had occurred the previous night. "I knew you'd gone out with the posse." he said, when he'd finished, "and I figured Andre would try to get some sleep. The Oriental Saloon is one of the big social centers in this town and I figured if anything unusual was going on, there was a chance that Becky knew about it. I'm sorry if I worried you, but I figured that if I didn't make contact. Andre would realize I was following up a lead."

"Oh, is that what you call it?" she asked, wryly.

"All right, never mind." said Lucas. "The important thing is, did you find out anything?"

Delaney nodded, "Yeah. She knows a lot about what's going on in this town. Mostly stuff that we already know, but a few things that we didn't. Like about Ben Stone. I think he's a ringer. And I'm pretty sure that he suspects me, too. He saw me pull a martial arts move on one of those guys during the fight and if he's a pro, it must have tipped him off."

"What did you learn from the girl?" asked Lucas.

"He's apparently loaded. He's always got a roll on him. He rents a room in Fly's Boarding House, but he doesn't seem to spend much time there. When he's not gambling in the Occidental, or the Alhambra or the Oriental, nobody seems to know where the hell he goes. He simply disappears. Apparently, there's been some talk in town that he might be in on some of the stage robberies, but he was always around somewhere in front of witnesses when they went down. That still doesn't mean he's not involved, though. And after those three Observers were killed, he seemed real interested in the investigation."

"She told you about that?" said Andre. "About the Observers being killed?"

"Yeah." said Delaney, faintly puzzled. "Why?"

"Because it seems no one else in town will talk about it," Lucas said. "It's as if it never happened. When I spoke to Wyatt Earp, he claimed he didn't know anything about it, had never even heard of anyone named Summers. Billings or McEnery."

"You're kidding." said Delaney, started.

"It's as if somebody went around to everyone in town and told them not to talk about it," Andre said. "They all act as if it simply never happened. As if those men had never even been here."

"That doesn't make any sense." Delaney said, mystified. "The whole town?"

"Well, apparently not the Whole town," Andre said. "since Becky spoke to you about it. But when we first got in, we spoke to the bartender here in the hotel, Andrew Mehan, and he talked about it. Later, when I asked him again, he denied he'd ever said anything and looked at me like I was drunk or something.”

"That's weird” said Delaney. "What the hell is going on?"

"That's what I'd like to know: said Lucas.

"You get a chance to make contact with Neilson on the posse?" Finn asked.

Lucas shook his head. "He acted as if he didn't know me. I figure whoever's behind all this, one or more of them were on the posse and Scott knew that he was being watched."

"You figure it's the Network?" asked Delaney.

"I don't know." Lucas replied. "If it is, there's a good chance we might have been blown as soon as we got into town. We're known to some of those people. But it could also be the S.O.G. One way or another, we'll probably find out before too long, because someone's bound to make a move against us."

"What bothers me is why suddenly no one will talk about those murders." Andre said. "Could it be possible that the Network is actually in control of this whole town?"

"I wouldn't have thought so." said Delaney. "But I can't think of any other explanation." He compressed his lips into a tight grimace. "I'll bet that bastard. Darkness, knows. Only he's not going to tell us anything until he's good and ready. And then we won't have any time to think about it. Son of a bitch just once. I'd like to get my hands on him. ."

“I keep thinking that there's something we're not seeing." Lucas said.

"Something we're not taking into account. So far, we're just floundering around back here, waiting for something to happen. I don't like it. I've got a real bad feeling about this whole thing."

"We're going to have to make contact with Neilson as soon as he gets back." Delaney said. "He's got to know something. Something must have happened between the time he clocked in with his report and the time we got here

"Obviously," said Lucas. "Only what?"

"He's apparently become involved with Jenny Reilly, who works at the saloon," Delaney said. "From the way she spoke. it sounded pretty serious."

“You apparently got yourself involved, as well." said Andre."I went to bed with Becky," said Delaney. "I'm not 'involved' with her. This sounds different. The Montana Kid and Jenny Reilly seem to have become an item in this town. Did you have a chance to check out that other guy Neilson mentioned in his report? The gunsmith. Zeke Bailey?"

He's dead." said Lucas. "He was murdered at his home just outside of town by person or persons unknown. Shot with a .45."

"That's interesting." Delaney said. "You think he might have been killed to keep us from talking to him?"

“I don't know what to think." said Lucas. "I'm not even sure where to start."

"I am," said Delaney. "Ben Stone."

There were things that went on in Hop Town that no one else in Tombstone knew about. The Chinese had a very closed community. There were a lot of them living in a relatively small space and the other residents of Tombstone tended to avoid the area. Not out of fear, but out of bigotry. They didn't like being around them. They liked having them do their laundry, they liked having them perform menial jobs and hard labor in the mines and on the railroad, mainly because they worked cheaply, and they liked having them as cooks, so long as they didn't cook that slop they ate themselves, but when it came to treating them as equals, that idea simply didn't occur to anyone. They were, after all, the "heathen Chinese." an inferior race altogether, with their own incomprehensible language, customs and beliefs. They were different and it was better if they just kept off to themselves.

The law in Tombstone did not overly concern itself with what went on down there in Hop Town. If they wanted to cook their funny-smelling food, and smoke their opium and gamble in their own establishments and chant and light their prayer sticks and have their own little internecine conflicts, so long as the trouble didn't spill outside of Hop Town, nobody really gave a damn. After all, they had to live somewhere, didn't they, and as long as they kept to themselves and didn't cause any trouble and stayed out of the way, let them live any damn way they pleased. So Tombstone had its own little Chinese ghetto and, for Nikola'

Drakov, that had certain advantages.

With their superstitious beliefs in magic and mysticism, instilling fear in them had been pathetically easy. Intimidating the leaders of the community had posed no problem whatsoever. In effect, he now controlled an entire section of Tombstone and because of the close-knit, segregated nature of the Chinese community, no one in town even suspected it. It had. however, involved a certain element of risk.

For a time, it had been necessary for him to be visible in Tombstone as Nathan Drake. He had tried to keep that to a minimum, but it had been necessary in order to make his preparations. He had eliminated the threat of the Observers, but he had been concerned about the Network and the Special Operations Group. The unique nature of this time sector was such that none of those groups was as yet aware of the others, except that the Network had discovered Bailey's secret, that he was a deserter from the Temporal Corps, a member of the Underground. Bailey had become careless and he had paid the price for it. Now he was dead. The situation was starting to develop rapidly. The temporal instability was increasing and Drakov wondered how long it would take for the Network, the S.O.G. and the T.I.A. agents to realize what was going on. With luck, by the time they put it all together, it would be too late.

He turned as the women came into the room. It was an elegant study. furnished comfortably in the best Victorian style, a room above the opium parlor. All the residents of Hop Town knew about it, no one else did. They knew that this was where the powerful sorcerer lived and they treated him with utmost, groveling respect whenever they came in contact with him. Otherwise, they gave him a wide berth.

"They're here," said Becky. "I spent the night with one of them. His name is Finn Delaney. He asked a lot of questions."

Drakov smiled as he drew on his long pipe. "Excellent."

And two more strangers have just arrived in town." said Becky. "They've been asking a lot of questions, too. A man and his wife. The man's name is Priest and he's a writer from back East. His wife's name is Andrea and she is his assistant, Priest went out with the posse looking for the stage robbers. His wife stayed in town, going into all the stores and asking questions."

"Lucas Priest and Andre Cross." said Drakov. "My old enemies. They're not even bothering to use false names. That means they're uncertain of the situation. They have devised a cover for themselves, but they've kept their real names, in an effort to draw out whoever might recognize those names. Which means that they suspect the Network. They undoubtedly have reinforcements waiting to clock in whenever they give the signal. Perfect. Only we're not quite ready for that yet. We need to keep them off-balance for just a little while longer. Mr. Stone should serve that purpose admirably. Have you been able to direct their suspicions toward him?"

"I've spoken to Scott about him." said Jenny. "I've told him that I had been with Stone and that he was very rough with me, that there is something very strange about him, something that frightens me. And that no one really knows anything about him, who he is or where he really came from."

"Finn Delaney asked about him, as well.” said Becky. "He already seems to suspect him. I told him that Stone spends most of his time gambling in various saloons, but that when he isn't gambling, no one seems to know where he goes. Stone acts mysterious and secretive."

"Good." said Drakov." "Very good, indeed."

"What about Scott Neilson?" Jenny asked, hesitantly.

"You've established a relationship with him." Drakov replied. "I want you to maintain it. Keep him off-balance, emotionally. He will draw the attention of the Network while the others will be preoccupied with Stone. They will suspect that Stone is a Network man, himself. Meanwhile, Stone will bring in his fellow S.O.G. agents to move against the T.I.A." He chuckled. "That will accelerate the instability. Things are about to become quite interesting."

"Will it be necessary for Scott to die?" asked Jenny, softly. Becky glanced at her, puzzled.

Drakov gave her a long, appraising look. "Are you becoming emotionally involved, Jennifer?"

Jenny looked down at the floor. "I . . . I think I’m in love with him."

Drakov raised his eyebrows. "Really?"

It's what I feel when I'm with him," Jenny replied, unable to look her master in the eyes. "He is so kind and gentle, when he touches me, he ... He makes me feel something that I've never felt with any other man."

“Oh, I see." said Drakov. “That is merely lust. A purely physiological response. Men of this time period, of most time periods for that matter, are not very sensitive to women's emotional needs, which are much more bound up with the physical than male needs are. Neilson is apparently more perceptive. I suppose he has brought you to orgasm. It was probably your first. But that is only a physical sensation. Jennifer, A biological response."

“But . . . but it feels so overwhelming," Jenny said.

“Indeed, it does." said Drakov. "But it is most emphatically not love. I know something of how you must feel. I made the same mistake myself once, many years ago, much to my regret. You were created from human genetic material. Jennifer, and so you are subject to the same procreative urges humans are. Those feelings can be very powerful and there is no reason why you should not enjoy them at every opportunity. In fact, the more frequently you indulge them, the quicker the novelty will wear off and you will find those feelings diminishing in intensity. Because it is merely sex. Love is something else, entirely."

"How is it different?" Jenny asked.

"It arises from shared values and mutual respect." said Drakov. "And your values and Neilson's could never be the same, Jennifer. You are not human. If Neilson knew that, he could never respect you. He would, in fact, be furious at having been deceived. I have told you that if he suspected your true nature, he would kill you. The only reason he treats you as he does is because he does not know what you really are. And even believing you to be human, like himself, he wishes to manipulate you, to use you to help him on his mission. If he truly loved you, he would be honest with you."

"I had not thought of it that way." she replied, softly, still looking at the floor. "I was afraid you would he angry with me."

"Why should I be angry with you?" Drakov asked "Have you failed me in any way? I created you. I gave you life. And it is I who care about you, enough to tell you the truth. I have no wish to see you hurt."

Jenny nodded and swallowed hard, torn by conflicting emotions. "Thank you. I do not wish to disappoint you."

"You won't. Enjoy yourself with Neilson. Indulge those feelings and you will soon find they are not nearly so profound as you suspect. He uses you. Use him in return to explore the depths of your sensations. But don't deceive yourself with thoughts of love. Love is for humans

All Scott wanted to do was sleep. The posse got back to town without catching the outlaws. Head, Leonard and Crane had led them on a merry chase throughout the countryside and they were never able to catch up with them. They had ridden so hard one of the horses died. They were tired, they were thirsty, they were sore, and they had simply given up. On their return, the Earps had received even more had news. Luther King, the prisoner they had taken back at the Redfield ranch, had managed to escape.

The whole thing was ludicrous. He had simply stepped out the back door of the jail while the deputy was engaged in selling his horse. Accusations were flying back and forth. The Earps were convinced that Behan and his deputies, being involved with the rustlers, had simply allowed him to escape. Which certainly seemed likely. Behan and his men were claiming that King had help, that Doc Holliday had been waiting behind the jail with two horses and had spirited King away.

Holliday, conveniently, had been out of town when the stage was robbed and the posse left. He was known to have been acquainted with one of the outlaws before, Bill Leonard, when the two men were in Las Vegas, New Mexico. On the strength of that association, Behan and others in his faction were claiming that Doc had been involved in the robbery and had helped King to escape. (Though no one explained how Holliday knew that King would have a chance to simply stroll out through the back door of the jail while the deputy's back was turned, or why he hadn't been locked up in the first place. Behan was even spreading rumors that Wyatt Earp and his brothers had been involved in the robbery, tipped off by Morgan, who, in his capacity as a Wells Fargo guard, would know when silver shipments were going out. The town was becoming polarized, with the hostility between the factions rapidly growing worse.

Scott wished that Priest and the other, would show up. He couldn't understand what was keeping them. He felt certain now that the Network was behind it all, but he couldn't take them on all by himself. That would be crazy. He felt exposed and vulnerable. He felt the situation was completely out of his control.

There was a soft knock at his door. He quickly grabbed a gun from the holster rig he'd hung up on the bedpost.

"Who is it?"

“It's Jenny. Scott. Can I come in?

He opened the door. She was alone. She saw the gun and her eyes grew wide.

"What's that for?" she asked.

"I had to be sure you were alone." said Scott.

"Who did you think might have been with me?"

"Well, I did make some enemies in this town." he replied. "Man can't be too careful." He closed the door behind her and eased the hammer down on the Colt.

"Did you really think I'd be part of anything like that?"

"You might have had no choice, Jenny. Someone might have been holding a gun on you, or a knife."

"That wouldn't make any difference." she said. "They'd have to kill me before I'd go along with doing anything to hurt you." She suddenly started crying.

"Jenny! What's wrong?"

"Hold me, Scott."

He put his arms around her. She was trembling.

"What's wrong, Jenny?" he asked, with concern. "What is it? What's happened?"

"Everything's wrong," she sobbed. "I wish I were dead!"

"Jenny!" She was holding onto him as if for dear life. "What is it? Tell me!

Is it something I've done?"

She shook her head. "No." she said, quietly. "It isn't anything you've done. It's me."

He took her over to the bed and sat down with her. He took her hands in his.

"Whatever it is, Jenny, you can tell me. I'll understand."

"I don't think you would." she said.

"Try me. At least give me a chance. If there's anything I can do to help, you know I will."

"I don't think anyone can help me." she replied, sniffling.

He kissed her "If I possibly can, I will. I love you, Jenny."

"Oh, God," she said, her voice barely audible. "How can you say that?"

"Because it's true, I love you."

She pulled away from him. "Scott . . . there are things about me . . . things you don't know. And if you knew, you'd hate me."

"I could never hate you, Jenny. I know what kind of life you've led. It makes no difference to me."

"I wasn't talking about that," she said, not looking at him."There are things, she bit her lower lip. "Oh. Scott, if you really knew the truth about me, you'd want to kill me."

He stared at her, astonished. "How can you say that? That's crazy! What could you possibly have done—"

"It isn't anything I've done," she said. "Well, yes, it is, but it's also what I am. If you knew . . ." She got down on her knees before him and took his hands, holding them tightly. looking up at him with fear and confusion. "If I tell you the truth, I know I'll lose you. You'll hate me and you'll want to kill me. but even if you do. I don't care anymore. I just don't want anything to happen to you. You have to leave. Scott. You have to leave Tombstone as quickly as you can and go back where you came from, before it's too late!"

"Jenny, what are you talking about?"

"Scott . . . before I tell you . . . kiss me. Please, kiss me one last time."

"Jenny . . .

"Just do it. Scott. Please."

He kissed her. She clung to him with desperation and he could taste the saltiness of her tears.

"Oh, God, I love you, Scott," she said. "I don't care if it’s not possible. I know I love you. I've never felt this way about anyone before."

"I love you too, Jen," he replied, bewildered

She shook her head and placed her forefinger up against his lips. "Maybe you think you do." she said. "But you can't You mustn't."

“Why?"

She stared at him with fear in her eyes. "Because . . ." she swallowed hard and took a deep breath. "Because I'm not human. Scott."

“What?"

I'm not a real woman. I only look like one. And. God help me, somehow I feel like one, too, but I'm not a human being. I wasn't born. I was created. The Master made me in a laboratory."

Scott simply stared at her, speechless with astonishment.

"I know he's your enemy, she continued, "I know who you really are. I know you're from the future. I know why you're here. And no matter what you do to me. you will go back. Please, you must go back before it's too late!"

Suddenly, comprehension dawned. "My God." said Scott. He felt as if he'd been punched in the stomach. "You're one of Drakov's hominoids."

She nodded, staring at him, her face streaked with tears, her eyes wide with fear.

"He said love is only for humans," she whispered, "and that what I feel toward you isn't really love, and that you couldn't possible love me if you knew what I really was. An imitation of a human being. He said you'd kill me, but I don't care! I don't want to live like this! It hurts! It hurts too much. If I can't be human, then I just don't want to be!"

"Jesus Christ." said Scott. He reached out for her and she cringed. "That bastard. That lousy bastard. What's he done to you?"

He put his arms around her and she became very still, as if afraid to move, afraid to breathe.

"You poor girl." he said, stroking her long blonde hair. His own eyes were misty. "Jesus, it must have been awful for you."

"I . . . I don't understand. . ." she said in a small frightened voice.

Scott held her away from him, so he could look into her eyes. “He had you believing you weren't human?"

She stared at him with incomprehension.

“Oh. Jenny, you don't even realize what you are," he said. "How much do you really know about Nikolai Drakov?"

She shook her head, dazed, still unable to believe he wasn't furious with her, that he wasn't striking out at her.

“He's insane. Jenny. He's brilliant, a genius, but he's a madman and a criminal. God knows, maybe he even believes that the hominoids aren't human. It would certainly fit with his insane megalomania. The thought that he's created an entirely new species, that he's some sort of God . . ."

"What are you saying?" she whispered.

"Jenny, the first hominoids that Nikolai Drakov created were androids. They weren't really human, but crude imitations. They weren't really capable of independent thought, or of human feelings and emotions. But later, Drakov resorted to genetic engineering to create clones in a laboratory. . . ." He trailed off as he watched her. "God, you don't understand the first thing about what I'm saying, do you?"

She shook her head.

He stared up at the ceiling. "How on earth can I explain it to you? You don't know the first thing about science. . ."

"I understand a little about science." she said, in a small voice, still confused by his lack of a violent reaction, which was what she had expected.

"Well, genetic engineering is a science," Scott told her. "What Drakov did was to . . . to give birth to humans in a laboratory without the benefit of parents. What I mean is, there were parents, human parents from whom Drakov obtained the raw material, but the hominoids—he still called them that, even though they were different from the first ones—were born without the necessity of a man and a woman having sex. The eggs were fertilized in a laboratory and the fetuses came to term in artificial wombs. . . ."

He saw that he was losing her again and he felt exasperated. There had to be some way that he could make her understand.

"What I'm trying to say. Jenny, is this, Even though you were never born in the normal way, even though you never had a father or a mother, you are still a human being. Drakov lied to you. He wasn't really your creator, he . . . he was more like a midwife. It's much too complicated for me to explain to you, but you have to believe one thing. You are as human as I am."

She shook her head, slowly. "Is it possible?" she whispered.

He grabbed her by the arm. "That's human flesh. Jenny." He put his hand on her breast. "That's a human heart beating in there." He kissed her. “Those are human lips." he said, softly. "I couldn't love you if you were not human. And I do love you."

She gave a small cry and clutched at him, burying her head against his chest as her small body was wracked with sobs. He held her tightly, stroking her hair and kissing the top of her head. Meanwhile, his mind was racing. Drakov, here!

Then it wasn't the Network or the S.O.G. Or perhaps the Network was here, as well. Or maybe the S.O.G. He was no longer sure of anything except two things. One was that with Drakov here in this time sector, the threat was even greater than he had imagined. And the other was that he was deeply in love with this poor, tortured girl.

He couldn't begin to imagine what her existence must have been like. Cloned in a laboratory, she had been raised to believe she wasn't human, but some sort of clever simulacrum. It was simply monstrous. Unlike other hominoids that Neilson had encountered, she had not been artificially mutated into some sort of frightening creature, her mind had not been destroyed, her personality—severely damaged though it was--had been left more or less intact. Only she had grown up believing that she was some sort of an inferior creature and that Nikolai Drakov was her "master." her god, to whom she owed unquestioning obedience. Except that he had triggered feelings in her that had been powerful enough to upset a lifetime of conditioning.

Apparently, she had been told that if he found out "what she really was," he'd kill her. And yet, she had disobeyed her master. Convinced that he would kill her if she told him the truth, she had told him anyway. Because she loved him. At that moment. Neilson would have died for her

She needed help. It would probably take years of therapy to overcome all the damage that had been done to her. But before he could even think of that, he first had to make sure that he could get her away from Drakov. And that Drakov would be stopped. Only he wasn't sure if he could do it alone.

If he kept her from going back to him, wherever he was, Drakov would realize what must have happened and it would force his hand. But he could not bear the thought of having her go back to him. Obviously, Drakov had placed her in Tombstone, in the saloon, so that she would be in a position to report to him. Which meant be had to know about him. Scott was torn. He didn't know what to do.

Where the hell were Priest, Cross and Delaney”

Lucas Priest came over to the table in the hotel dining room where Neilson was eating his dinner and sat down.

"Mind if I join you, Kid?" he said.

"Looks like you just did, mister."

"I'd like to introduce myself. The name's Priest, Lucas Priest I'm a writer and, from what I hear, you're somebody worth writing about." He lowered his voice and said. "We have to talk.”

"Go ahead and talk. Mr. Priest. I'm listenin'."

"I'm writing some articles about the West for a magazine back in New York and I believe you're someone my readers would be very interested to know about." He lowered his voice again. "Why the hell haven't you made contact? Are you being watched?"

Neilson put down his fork and frowned. "Beg pardon?"

"I hear you re mighty fast with a six-shooter," Lucas said. “I'd like to ask you some questions, if you don't mind." Then lowered his voice once more. "Are you under surveillance?"

"No, sir, I ain't no surveyor. Don't know anything about it."

Lucas stared at him. "What the hell's the matter with you, Neilson?" he whispered.

Neilson frowned. "I say somethin' wrong?"

"Lower your voice, for Christ's sake!"

Neilson's eyes narrowed, but he complied with the request.

"Why?" he asked, softly.

Lucas frowned. "Scott, are you all right?"

Neilson regarded him with puzzlement. "I'm just fine, mister. But I seem to be a mite confused. We met before?"

Lucas didn't say anything. He was completely taken aback. He looked at Neilson and saw no recognition in his face. None whatsoever.

"You don't know me?" he asked, gazing at him intently.

"If we met before, Mr. Priest, I'm real sorry, but I don't seem to recall. Where was it that we met each other?"

"You don't remember London?"

"London? London. England?" Neilson shook his head. "I ain't never been there. mister. I grew up in Montana Territory Spent most of my life there. Ain't never been to England. Ain't never even been east of the Mississippi. I'd say you've got me confused with someone else, only you seem to know my name. You got somethin mixed up, that's for sure, only I don't know what it is. I've never seen you before in my life. Leastwise, I don't believe so."

Lucas was speechless.

"You okay, mister?" Neilson asked. "You been drinkin’?"

"The name Forrester mean anything to you?" asked Lucas, uncertainly.

Neilson shook his head "Can't say as it does."

"What about Cross? Delaney? Steiger?"

"Don't know any of those people," Neilson said, with a frown. "What's this all about!"

"How long have you been in Tombstone?"

"Only a few days. Why?"

“Were you injured in any way? A knock on the head or something?"

Neilson shook his head. He seemed thoroughly confused. “Mister. I don't know what you're talkin' about"

Lucas sat back in his chair, stunned. "Never mind," he said . . .I guess I thought you were someone else."

"Someone else named Neilson?"

"I guess that must be it. I knew someone else with the same name and I thought you were him."

"Oh. I see. I take it there was a resemblance?"

"Yes. A truly remarkable resemblance. You could he his twin brother."

"No foolin'? You mean there's somebody in London. England who looks like me and has got the same name?"

"Yes. Hell of a coincidence, isn't it?"

"Well. I'll be damned. I guess that explains it. Tell you the truth. Mister. for a minute there. I thought you might be drunk or off your head or somethin'."

"I was thinking the same thing about you," said Lucas.

Neilson grinned. "Well, ain't that somethin'? Somebody who looks like me and has the same name, too! And you say you met him in England?"

'Yes, that's right. He was a soldier."

“I’ll be, No wonder you seemed all mixed-up. You thought I was him."

I was certain of it."

“If that don't beat all. I'd sure like to meet this fella. But I don't know as I'll ever get to England. Sure is a long way off. This other Neilson, he a shootist, too?"

"Yes, he is. A remarkably good one."

"Is that right? Boy, ain't that somethin'?"

"Yes, it's an amazing coincidence." said Lucas. "Astonishing, in fact."

"I guess it is, at that. I never heard of such a thing."

"You ever hear of three men named Summers, McEnery and Billings'?" Lucas asked.

Neilson chuckled. "Hell, this other fella must really look a lot like me," he said. "You still don't believe it, do you? I'm tellin' you, mister, I ain't him. I never heard of those people. They're friends of his. I take it."

"Fellow soldiers," Lucas said.

Neilson shook his head "Well. I ain't never been a soldier. You got my word on that. And I don't know any of those folks you mentioned.”

"Well. I’m sorry I bothered you." said Lucas. "I was sure that you were him.”

"No trouble.” Neilson said. "It sure has been interestin'. You still want to ask me those questions?"

"Perhaps another time." said Lucas, getting up from the table. "This whole thing took me so much by surprise. I can't remember a single thing that I was going to say."

Neilson smiled. "Well. I’ll be around, you want to talk some more. And maybe you can tell me some more about this other fella. I sure am mighty curious."

"Yeah, maybe we can have a drink later." Lucas said.

"Anytime.”

They shook hands and Lucas went back up to his room. Delaney had left, but Andre was still there, stretched out on the bed and getting some rest.

"You get a chance to talk to Scott'?" she asked, sitting up as he came in. Then she saw the expression on his face. "What is it? What's wrong?"

Lucas shook his head, looking dazed. "We're in a lot of trouble." he said.

8

"Twenty-five thousand in silver bullion," said O'Fallon. "And it slipped right through our fingers. What the hell went wrong?"

“those three idiots, Head. Leonard and Crane, went wrong." replied Paul Zaber. "I gave them the plan myself. I told them, soon as the stage pulls up, shoot both the driver and shotgun guard, but they blew it Leonard shot all right, but the other two hesitated and the horses bolted, so they only got Philpot. Then instead of chasing the stage down when the horses bolted, they had King holding their horses a short distance away, so the stage had a good head start on them by the time they got mounted. They still could've caught it, but they gave it up as a bad job and took off. Had to run from the damn posse with nothing to show for it.”

“Exactly the way it happened in the original scenario," said O'Fallon, thoughtfully. "We seem to be swimming against the current of temporal inertia. I wouldn't have thought something like this would have made much difference to the scheme of things, but perhaps I was wrong. This time sector may have more temporal significance than I'd imagined."

"If that's true, then we're taking a big risk." said Zaber. You think we should pull out?

"I'd hate to do that without having this operation show more of a profit." O'Fallon replied. "Remember that none of us can depend on our agency pensions anymore, thanks to Moses Forrester. And I always intended to retire a very wealthy man, with a ludicrously expensive lifestyle. That means I'm going to have to convince the board to put me in charge of more profitable operations. They're not going to do that if they're not sufficiently impressed with the way I conducted this one."

"We've done all right." said Zaber.

"'All right' is not enough." O’Fallon replied. "They're not going to be impressed with just 'all right.' I went to a lot of trouble to set this operation up. I don't intend to pack it in until we've pulled everything we can out of it."

"It could be risky staying around," Zaber said. "There's still the question of the Montana Kid, whoever the hell he is. If he's a temporal agent, you can be sure he won't be alone. If he's an advance scout for the S.O.G. we're liable to wind up in the middle of a temporal disruption.”

That could be very bad for business, all around," O’Fallon said.

"Hey, as far as I'm concerned, the S.O.G. isn't my headache. Let Forrester's people handle them. There's no money to be made going up against commandos."

"Perhaps not, but there is money to be lost." said O'Fallon. “A significant disruption in this sector could affect our operations further down the timestream. The S.O.G. isn't just a threat to Temporal Intelligence. Paul. It's a threat to the entire timeline. And that means us, too. If the S.O.G. mounts an operation here, and the T.I.A. isn't around to stop them, it's going to be up to us. Don't forget, we were Temporal Intelligence ourselves at one time."

"Yeah, but there are only five of us." said Zaber. "We can use Clanton's rustlers to help us pull off operations, but sending them up against trained commandos would he ludicrous. The thing to do is get word to Forrester's people and let them handle it. And make sure we're long gone by the time they get around to it."

"That could be rather difficult to do, considering we won't know when they would be clocking in," O'Fallon replied. "Besides, we don't know that it is an S.O.G. infiltration. The Kid could be T.I.A. In which case, something must have tipped them off. It could have been Bailey. He wanted to get out from under. He might have contacted them and tried a double cross in return for immunity. Warning us about the Kid the way he did could have been part of the setup, or just Bailey burning his candle at both ends, trying to keep his ass covered. Either way, we don't have enough information.

Zaber shook his head. "And either way, we could be buying into one shitload of trouble.”

“I'm not sure we have much choice, Paul. But keep one other thing in mind. If the Kid is an advance agent for the T.I.A., and if Balky sold us out and they know we're conducting a Network operation back here, they'll send in one of their old First Division teams. If we could take them out, we'd not only enhance our standing in the organization, we'd collect a bounty that would go a long way towards making our retirement very comfortable.”

Zaber took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "You've got a point I can't decide for the others, though."

"Allan will go along with it." said O'Fallon. “He's young and he's hungry. And he's anxious to move up. Randy's more cautious, but I think he'll see that there's no avoiding the risk no matter what we do. Steve won't like it, but he'll understand the necessity. Especially if you and I are together on this."

"All right. So what's our first move?”

"The Kid didn't take the bait when you left here with Bailey. And I'm positive he followed Bailey here. So that means he's playing it smart. He knows there's something going on here, but we haven't been hit, so either his backup hasn't clocked in yet—assuming he's T.I.A.—or Bailey didn't tell him everything. Assuming Bailey tipped them off." He grimaced. “That's too many assumptions, but the one I think we can safely make is that he knows we're here, but he doesn't know exactly who we are Let's put a little pressure on him. See if we can force his hand or get any backup he might have to reveal themselves."

“One of them already might have." Zaber said.

“Oh?”

“I was going to tell you about it when I came in, after we discussed the stage job. A few of Clanton's boys were in town and got mixed up in a fight with a cowboy who just arrived in town. You know Jenny, down at the Oriental? Sam wanted to tear off a piece, only she turned him down. It seems she's taken up with the Kid and given up turning tricks. Anyway, Sam got a little rough with her and this cowboy came Over to play hero. He dropped Sam with one punch, broke Joey's wrist, used a whiskey bottle to make a mess out of Luke's face and hit Walt with a table."

"With a table?"

"Picked it up and used it to slam Walt against the wall. Then knocked him out. Walt said he snatched up that table as if it didn't weigh a thing. Big guy, Walt said. Fast with his hands.

Hits like pile driver. Dark red hair, beard

and a real shit-eatin’ grin."

"Finn Delaney," O'Fallon said.

"You know him?"

"Oh yeah, I know him. It was a few years ago, back in the old days before Forrester took over. I ran into him on a mission, when I was working with the Mongoose. He and Carnehan did not like each other. And Delaney had a real hard-on for spooks. First Division time commando all the way. only a real maverick. Crazy son of a bitch. He was a noncom in those days. Kept getting busted for punching out officers who gave him a hard time. Yeah. I know Finn Delaney, all right."

"So then the Kid is T.I.A."

"Yeah. And that probably means Priest is heading up their team. And Cross will be in on it, as well. Foxy lady, and nasty as a snake. Looks like Forrester sent in the first string."

"That's not what I'd call good news," said Zaber.

"Are you kidding?" O'Fallon replied. "You know what the bounty is on those three? Shit. We just struck it rich."

"I wouldn't start counting that bounty before we collect it," said Zaber.

"And if they're as good as you say they are, that's not going to be easy."

"Nothing worth doing is ever easy. Paul." O’Fallon replied.

"But we've got the home-court advantage. I'll check with the others, but I'm pretty sure that I'm the only one they know.

And they'll never recognize me with this face. All we have to do is identify the targets and send the rustlers out to take care of them. We may not even have to get involved ourselves.

Because they're concerned about temporal continuity, they'll think twice before taking out any of the locals in this time sector. Our boys won't have any such compunctions." He smiled. "God damn. This operation is turning out to be a lot more interesting than I thought."

"You want me to call in the others?"

"Yes. We'll tell Allan and Steve to cancel their plan for the next shipment. Then we'll get some of the boys together and take a ride into town. It doesn't sound as if Delaney's had any cosmetic surgery. They usually don't, unless they're going to assume specific identities. I want to make sure. I want to find out where they're staying and what their covers are. I don't want any mistakes on this one Once we've got them spotted and the situation eased, then I’ll call the boys I'm putting a bounty on them."

"I've got a better idea." said Zaber. "Have Ike Clanton do it. That way, if anything goes wrong and anybody talks, they'll go after Clanton first. And while they're doing that, we can make our move."

O'Fallon smiled broadly. "That's very good. Paul. That's what I call good thinking."

“Yeah, well, if we're going to take on the First Division's number one team, we're going to need a lot of that." said Zaber. "I'll go get the boys."

"What do you mean, he didn't know you?" Andre asked, staring at Lucas with astonishment

"Just what I said." Lucas replied, taking off his coat and dropping down into a chair. He exhaled heavily. "He didn't have the faintest idea who I was. Said he'd never seen me before in his life. Thought I had him mixed-up with someone else. I came up with some story about his having a double that I met in England and he seemed to swallow that, but it gave me one hell of a turn. I can tell you."

"I don't understand," Andre said, an expression of complete confusion on her face. "Why would he do that? You think he was under surveillance?"Lucas snorted.

"He acted like he didn't even know what the word meant. I asked him that and he thought I was asking him if he was a surveyor”

“You're kidding."

“I wish I was."

"What the hell does he think he's doing?" Lucas shook his head, helplessly.

"I don't think he's playing games. Andre. You should have been there. You should have seen him. It was spooky, He really didn't know me. Your name, Finn's name. Steiger's name, the Old Man, they didn't mean a thing to him. There was no glimmer of recognition. None whatsoever."

She stared at him with disbelief. "My God. You think he's got amnesia?"

Lucas shrugged. "I don't know. I'm at a loss to account for it. I asked him if something had happened to him recently, if he'd gotten hurt or something. and he just looked at me as if I were crazy. It's as if the role has completely taken him over. He's not Sergeant Scott Neilson, temporal agent. He's Scott Neilson, the Montana Kid."

"You think the opposition got to him and brainwashed him?"

"I suppose it's possible, but why? Why go to all that trouble? Why not just interrogate him and then take him out? It doesn't make any sense."

"Does Finn know about this yet?"

Lucas shook his head. "I haven't had a chance to talk to him. But we're going to have to warn him. I don't know what the hell's happened to Neilson. Maybe he's had a breakdown or something, but we can't count on him anymore. He's become a liability."

"Maybe this is it," said Andre. "Maybe this is what Dr. Darkness meant. Maybe something has happened to Scott and he forgot who he really was and somehow disrupted temporal continuity."

Lucas sat very still, staring at her for a long moment.

"It's possible, isn't it'?" she asked.

Lucas nodded slowly. "Yes. It's possible. The question is, what are we supposed to do about it?"

"No." said Andre. "That's not the question. The question is, what is it that we're going to do—a not do—that we're going to have to do differently to save the future?"

"Jesus." Lucas said. "How the hell are we supposed to know?"

"Darkness said he's going to tell us."

"Yeah. At the last moment. Only why? Why wait till the last minute?"

“Maybe to make sure that we don't have a chance to think about it." she said. "Lucas, it's possible that we may have to kill him."

Lucas closed his eyes. "Oh, hell."

"Maybe . . . maybe I’m wrong. Maybe there's another way . . ."

"No," said Lucas, shaking his head "No. I don't think so. I think you're right. Under ordinary circumstances, if you can possibly call this situation ordinary . . . that's what we'd do. We'd look for some other way. We'd take him and clock him out and get him to a hospital . . . and somehow, that's what would interfere with temporal continuity. That's got to be it. Neilson has to be the key. That's why Darkness didn't tell us any more than he did. It's the only possible explanation that makes any sense. Whatever it is we have to do regarding Neilson, we're going to have to do it at a specific time. And there's no way we could know what that time is unless Darkness tells us. Only if he told us in advance we’d have to kill him, we'd do everything in our power to find some other way around it. He's trying to make sure that we won't have a chance to do that, Damn. Damn, damn, damn!"

"We've got to find Finn," she said. "If he runs into Scott before we warn him about this. he's liable to take it on his own to do something."

"You're right. He took a room over at the Aztec Rooming House. You head on over there, and if he's not in. check the Capitol Saloon over on Fremont, then the Can Can Restaurant over on Allen. I'll start at Hafford's across the street and work my way down through the Occidental, the Alhambra and the Oriental. If he's not in his room, he's got to be in one of those places, following up on Ben Stone. We'll meet back here."

"Got it."

"God, whatever it is. I hope it doesn't happen tonight, before we get a chance to find Delaney." He got up and put on his coat.

"Then let's not waste any time," she said, heading for the door.

Ben Stone was in the last saloon Finn checked, the Oriental. Going by his own statements. Stone was breaking his pattern. He said he liked playing in different saloons after he lost. "to keep his luck fresh." Only here he was, in the Oriental once again. Why? Because this was where they met the last time?

"You're waiting for me, aren't you, you son of a bitch?" Finn mumbled under his breath as he spotted Stone sitting at a table in the back. He glanced around at the room. There were some cowboys sitting in a group at a couple of tables, a few card games going on. None of the Tombstone lawmen were in evidence. Holliday sitting in on a card game with Stone and a couple of the townspeople. And Scott Neilson at the bar. talking to Jenny. The moment Jenny spotted him, she waved him over.

"Finn, I'd like you to meet Scott, the Montana Kid. Scott, this is the kind gentleman who helped me the other day."

“We already know each other, Jenny," Neilson said, keeping his voice low and checking to see that they weren't overheard. "Finn's one of the people I was telling you about.”

Delaney glanced at him, startled. He couldn't possibly have . . . no. he must have devised some sort of cover story for the girl. Which could pose a problem. since he hadn't admitted knowing Scott before, when he'd met her. But there was nothing else to do but play along with it.

"How're you doing, Kid? It's been a while?

"Where have you been?" Neilson said, in a low voice. "Did you just clock in?

Are Lucas and Andre with you?"

Delaney stared at him with disbelief, then glanced at Jenny with alarm.

"What the hell are you doing?" he whispered.

"It's okay." Scott replied. "She knows all about it."

Delaney couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You told her? Are you crazy?"

"Finn, we have to talk." said Scott, quietly. He glanced at Jenny. "She's not who you think she is. She's one of Drakov's hominoids."

Delaney caught his breath. "Holy shit! What the hell—"

"You're the fella that busted up some of my boys the other night, ain't

'cha?" said a voice behind him, before he could finish.

Scott's hands flashed to his coat and the two pearl-handled Colts leaped from their holsters. There were several audible clicks as he cocked them.

"Say, take it easy there. Kid." the man said, slowly opening his coat. "I'm not heeled." There were two other men standing beside him. "My friends ain't. neither?

"What do you want, Clanton?" Scott asked.

"We don't want any trouble." said Ike Clanton; as Delaney turned to face him he was a large man, with light, curly hair, a moustache and a thin goatee. One look and Delaney didn't like him. "And I wanted to be sure you understood that. seem' as how you seem friendly with this here gentleman and your girl, Jenny, was involved."

“Say your piece. Ike.” Scott lowered the hammers and put away his guns.

"You met my friends, here?" Clanton said, indicating the two men with him.

"This here's Johnny Ringo. And this gent is Curly Bill Brocius.”

"Any friends of yours, Ike, ain't no friends of mine." said Neilson.

"Say, now. I was just bein' polite," said Clanton. "I don't believe I know this gentleman."

“The name's Delaney," Finn said, watching the men carefully. “Finn Delaney.”

“Irishman, eh?"

"What can I do for you, Mr. Clanton?"

"Well. I just wanted to come over and apologize on behalf of my boys." said Ike. "They had a mite too much whiskey yesterday and got out of line a bit."

“More than a bit, I’d say,' Delaney replied. "And any apologies should be addressed to this young lady."

"I reckon so," said Clanton. "Jenny, I'm right sorry about what happened. There wasn't no call for it. I sure hope you won't go bearin' us a grudge."

"I accept your apology, Ike," she said.

"I ain't gonna be so easy," Scott said.

"Well, now, I figured that.” said Clanton, "which is why I'm keepin' those boys out of town for a while. Fact is, they're feelin' poorly anyway, after what Mr. Delaney here did to ‘em."

"They got off lucky." said Scott, if I'd been here. I would've killed them.

“Well, now, that's what I wanted to talk to you about." said Ike. "I don't want any bad blood between you and my boys if I can help it. They're right sorry about what they done. I talked to ‘em and made sure they wouldn't be bearin' your friend here any grudges. I don't want any trouble. Now they promised to behave themselves and they didn't really understand about you and Jenny. They do now. Seein' as no harm was really done, except a little to my boys. I'm hopin’ we can just patch things up and forget about the whole thing That is, if you're agreeable.”

Scott stared hard at Clanton. “If you really mean that, Ike, then I'm agreeable. But you keep your rustlin' lowlifes away from Jenny or I'll have something to say about it, understand? And I'll be sayin' it to you."

"Hey." said Ike, raising his hands up to his chest. "I got no problem with that. Looks like we understand each other. I'm happy we could work it out. Will you have a drink on it? I'll buy. That goes for you too, mister." he added, looking at Delaney. "Frank, whiskey for my friends here.”

Delaney was paying less attention to Ike Clanton than to the two men with him. Brocius and Ringo. Both hard-looking men, with eyes that met his gaze dead on. Gunfighters. Men who looked as if they knew their business.

Brocius shifted his gaze to Neilson. "You're pretty quick with those fancy guns of yours." he said.

"I hear tell you're pretty quick, yourself," Scott replied.

“I wonder which one of us is quicker." Curly Bill said, with a smile.

"You want to find out'?" asked Neilson.

"Scott!" said Jenny.

"Hey. now, wait . . ." started Clanton.

Delaney took Scott by the arm. "Don't push it." he said. firmly.

"Anytime. Kid." Brocius said.

"Now hold on just a minute." said Delaney.

"Relax. Finn." said Scott. "We can find out right here and now, without anybody getting hurt. You game, Curly Bill?"

Brocius narrowed his eyes. "What you got in mind?"

“I see you're wearing a two-gun rig, too," said Scott. "You take one gun and give it to Ike. I'll take one of mine and give it to Finn. Then we each take the gun we got left and give them both to Frank, here, to unload. We put the empty guns back in our holsters and Frank will say the word. Then we draw and dry fire.”

By now, the other people in the saloon were aware of what was going on and they had started to gather around.

"What do you say, Brocius?"

Curly Bill was aware of the attention on them. "I'm game."

He took out one of his gun, and handed it to Clanton while Scott took out one of his and handed it to Finn. Then they each took their remaining gun and passed it across the bar to Frank Leslie, who opened the Warding gates, held them up one at a time, barrels up, rotated the cylinders and let the bullets drop out.

"Five each." he said, after making sure both guns were empty. He put the bullets down on the bar and handed the guns back to them. They replaced them in their holsters.

"Anytime you're ready. Frank," said Scott.

Curly Bill nodded. They stood about three feet away from each other.

"I'll count to three," said Leslie. 'On three, go for your guns. You ready?"

Everyone in the saloon gathered around. There was utter silence.

"I'm ready " Scott said.

"Ready,” said Curly Bill.

"Okay, here goes." said Leslie. “One . . .

Curly Bill flexed his fingers.

“Two . . .

Scott stood perfectly relaxed.

“Three!"

Curly Bill's right hand darted toward his holster, but his gun hadn't even cleared it when he suddenly found himself looking down the barrel of Scott’s Colt

.45. He froze.

Scott squeezed the trigger and the hammer fell with a loud snap.

"Damn!" said someone in the crowd.

Someone else whistled and the whole crowd started talking excitedly. Brocius simply stood there, staring at Scott, his eyes like anthracite. Clanton cleared his throat.

"How about that drink, boys?"

Curly Bill snatched his bullets off the bar, took his other gun from Clanton and stalked away without a word, going out through the double doors into the street.

“Some other time, Ike," Scott said. "I feel like a walk, Jenny . . .

She took his arm.

"I'll walk with you." Finn said.

They went outside. There was no sign of Curly Bill.

“Was that smart?" asked Jenny. "He knows you're faster now. He'll look to shoot you in the back"

“He probably would have done that anyway," said Scott.

“Scott, what the hell is going on here?" Delaney asked, as they walked down the street. "Drakov's here'?" He glanced at Jenny. "And where does she fit into this?"

“I'm in love with her, Finn. And she's in love with me."

"Oh, Jesus Christ!"

"She's the one who warned you about Drakov. He knows about me. He knows about you, too. That girl, Becky, is one of his."

“Shit. Where is he?"

"I'm not sure. Neither is Jenny. Part of the time, he's basing himself in Hop Town, in a room above an opium den. He's also got a chronoplate stashed there, which leads to London in some future time period. Jenny's not sure which. She isn't told any more than she needs to know. He is protected there. As far as any other bases of operations he might have back here, she doesn't know. We're in it up to our necks, Finn. It's not only Drakov back here. It's the Network and the S.O.G."

"Good God! Stone?”

"He's S.O.G. But he's the only one that Jenny knows about. The Network and the S.O.G. apparently don't know about each other. And there's a hell of a good reason for that. Are Lucas and Andre here with you?"

"Yeah. They're over in the Grand Hotel. But wait a minute. You saw Lucas!"

"I did?"

Delaney frowned. "He went out on that posse with you. He said he saw you. And he said you acted as if you didn't know him. He figured you were under surveillance from someone in the posse and knew about it. What kind of game are you playing here. Scott?"

Scott had stopped dead in his drinks. "He saw me?"

Delaney looked at him with a frown. "What is this? Are you telling me you don't remember?"

Scott gave a low whistle, "Finn. Lucas wasn't with that posse. At least, not the posse I was on."

"What the hell are you talking about? Of course, he was there! I saw him ride out! He saw you, for God's sake!"

"No. He didn't. He didn't see me. I'm beginning to understand what's going on here. And it's even worse than I thought. Finn, everything that we suspected about this temporal scenario is true. Not just one of the possibilities we considered, all of them together. The S.O.G. is here. At least one of them that I know about, but there's probably more. There's got to be. The Network is here. They're running an operation out of the Clanton ranch."

"You mean Ike Clanton is a Network agent?"

"Not Clanton. And not Curly Bill, either. The other one, Johnny Ringo. Only he's not really Johnny Ringo. His real name is Tim O'Fallon."

"O’Fallon!"

"You know him?"

"Hell, yes. He was one of Jack Carnehan's field agents. You remember the Mongoose?"

“No. Carnelian was before my time. But I've heard about him."

"So that means he recognized me," said Delaney. "I thought he was looking at me funny. He's got himself a new face."

"Yeah, Johnny Ringo's." Scott said. "They must have killed the real Ringo. "

"But I still don't understand about you and Lucas. How could you be on the same posse together and not see each other?"

"Because we weren't on the same posse." Scott said. "We were on different posses. In different timelines. Only I didn't realize until now that there's another Scott Neilson in that other timeline. That puts an entirely new twist on things. Finn, this whole damn town is one big confluence point."

Delaney stared at him, stunned. "The whole town?"

"I was able to piece it together from what Jenny told me."

Scott replied. "And she doesn't quite understand it all. As near as I can figure, the location of this town is also the location for a massive area of temporal instability. It's a confluence, but more than that, it's that one-in-amillion shot, a confluence where both timelines intersect at the same, exact corresponding space and time. You're the one who went to R.C.S., so you probably understand the Zen physics a lot better than I do, but as a result, the temporal instability here is incredible. It's like . . . like the town sort of flickers, like a strobe light, not so anyone here would actually notice, of course, but at different times, first you're in one Tombstone, then you're in the other."

"Holy shit." whispered Delaney.

“The thing I've been batting my brains out about is what the effect of temporal inertia is here. It doesn't seem as if the people from this Tombstone can cross over into the other one, and I don't even know if the Network and the S.0.G. are in the same timeline together, but apparently, we can cross over. Or at least you can. You have, obviously, if you've talked to Lucas, because he and Andre are in the other timeline. Or at least they were. Maybe they're here now. Hell, I don't know. It's a fucking mindblower. But it looks as if I may not be able to cross over, because there's another Scott Neilson in the other timeline and temporal inertia is keeping us apart. Either that, Or I've become too deeply involved in this scenario and I'm part of whatever's going to happen here."

"So that's what Darkness was talking about." said Finn "That's what he didn't tell us. And that's why he wasn't able to tach back here, or at least he won't be able to until a certain point in time.”

"I don't understand.” said Scott.

“Darkness isn't sure what effect crossing over would have on his subatomic structure." Delaney explained. "It's unstable and gradually disintegrating. He seems to have periods of remission, for lack of a better way of putting it, but he thinks that one of these days, he's going to pass the point of no return and he'll simply discorporate, depart at multiples of light speed in all directions of the universe. Being in the vicinity of temporal confluence could accelerate that."

"Wow," said Scott. "And he's been living with that?" He exhaled heavily. "No wonder he's so flaky around the edges."

"There's something else that you don't know. Scott." said Delaney. "Darkness is from the future. Not our time sector, but our future.

"I'll be damned." said Neilson, softly. He nodded. “That figures. It would explain a lot about him."

“There's more.” said Finn, grimly. 'We're not sure what time he came from, but whatever century it was, something devastating happened up ahead. Or is going to happen. Some kind of terrible temporal disaster He wouldn't tell us what it is, but it's got to be a massive timestream split, possibly even a chain reaction. And that's what Darkness is trying to prevent. Actually, he isn't trying to prevent it. because from his temporal standpoint, it's already happened. He's trying to change it. He's trying to change history. Scott, and somehow we're a part of it. Whatever it is that is going to bring on that temporal disaster is going to happen right here, in this scenario. Maybe tomorrow, maybe next week, maybe five seconds from now, for all we know. And-we haven't got any idea what it is Darkness wouldn't tell us. It could involve the S.O.G., it could involve the Network, it could involve Drakov or all or even none of them. But Darkness told us that we're going to be in a position to change it. And whatever it is we're going to have to do, we're not going to know about it until we have to do it, until the very last minute. Now I know why. Darkness is taking a big gamble. He's putting his life on the line. He's got one chance, just one, to tach in and tell us what to do . . . because whatever it is, it's got to be something heavy. Something he can't even give us a chance to think about. And he knows that the instant he arrives here, he might discorporate.”

"But he doesn't know for sure?" said Scott.

"No. how could he? He's gambling that he won't. Or that if he does, he’ll have enough time to tell us what to do before it happens."

"God damn it. It's even worse than I imagined.” Scott said.

Delaney suddenly had another thought. He recalled back when Darkness had appeared to them in the First Division Lounge. He had indicated that the three of them would be in a position to do whatever it was that would have to be done, he hadn't said anything about Neilson.

He racked his brain for what he knew of the metaphysical complexities of temporal physics, popularly known as "Zen physics." Trying to think back to the problem modules he had studied back in Referee Corps School. He had never graduated. He came close, but he had washed out, ultimately because of his personality, not because of any inability on his part. He was convinced of that, despite the fact that he always told people he'd washed out because he couldn't cut the mustard academically. There was no shame in that. In all the world, only a handful of the most brilliant graduate students in the field of temporal physics were selected for R.C.S. and it was one hell of an achievement and an honor simply to be chosen. But Delaney had realized early on that he lacked two essential personality traits to be a Temporal Referee. Patience and detachment.

In the old days—they were the old days now, although it didn't seem like so very long ago—when nations waged their conflicts through the medium of the Time Wars, the Referees had functioned as the temporal arbiters, choosing and defining the conflict scenarios and arbitrating their results. Now, they functioned as a son of temporal high command, the final guardians of temporal continuity, a Supreme Court of time travel. It wouldn't have been easy, for R.C.S. was brutally demanding, but Delaney could have become a Temporal Referee after graduating from the world's toughest post-postgraduate school and serving a lengthy tour of internship. He would have enjoyed the highest pay scale in the world, commensurate with the most prestigious job in the world, but he would have been an old man by the time he had finally achieved his goal. And about midway through R.C.S., he had realized that he had misjudged his aspirations.

He didn't have the patience to finish his schooling and go through all those years of internship. And he lacked the personal detachment to play with human lives as if they were nothing more than chess pieces. What he really wanted, he had realized, was to be directly involved, hands on, with history. So he had dropped out of R.C.S. and enlisted in the Temporal Corps.

He was already a veteran of many temporal campaigns when he had first met Lucas Priest on what was to become the very first temporal adjustment mission ever conducted in Minus Time, when Professor Mensinger's worst fears came true and it was discovered that history was nor an immutable absolute, that it could be changed, with consequences that could prove disastrous. He and Lucas had been part of the team who were the very first Time Commandos, even before the First Division had been organized under Moses Forrester, who had acted as their training officer on that mission. It seemed so very long ago.

Priest had only been a sergeant major back then and had just clocked in from a hitch served in the Second Punic War. Delaney, himself, had been a Private First Class—again—and if anyone had told him back then he would one day become an officer, he would have laughed in his face. Half the team never made it back from that mission. Johnson and Hooker had both bought it and their names were the first to be listed on the Wall of Honor, the first of many. Too many.

It had been on that mission that they first met Andre, although their real relationship with her did not begin until centuries had passed. When Lucas had first met her, he had not even known she was a woman. She was a native of that time period, in 12th-century England, a woman passing as a young man. She had called herself Andre de la Croix and had carried her deception off so far as to become a mercenary knight in the service of Prince John. She and Lucas had first met in the lists at the tournament of Ashby de la Zouche, an encounter Lucas was never to forget, he had almost failed to survive it

They had met again in 17th-century France, when they went up against the Timekeepers. and were stunned to learn that Andre had been brought there from the past by a deserter from the Temporal Corps named Reese Hunter. Hunter had been assassinated by the Timekeepers and Andre had helped them to avenge his death and successfully complete their mission, after which they had brought her back to Plus Tom with them, to the 27th century. She became a soldier in the Temporal Corps. transferring to the First Division as soon as she completed her training.

They had served on many missions since then, but never one like this, never one where all the laws of Temporal Relativity seemed to be suspended the theories of Temporal Relativity. Delaney corrected himself, for Zen physics was anything but an exact science. Mensinger had never anticipated anything like the Temporal Crisis or confluence points. They had studied Mensinger's theories exhaustively in R.C.S., pushing themselves to the verge of nervous breakdowns trying to solve the theoretical problem modules posed by the instructors, temporal riddles more mystifying than ten koans. What would happen if . .

But the one hypothetical situation that no one had anticipated was the one that faced them now. What would happen if two separate timelines in two parallel universes converged in a confluence point at the exact same space and time? How would the Theory of Temporal Inertia be affected? Where and how would the Fate Factor come into play? What definition would apply to the Principle of Temporal Uncertainty? Or. given such a situation, could it even be defined? And what about the potential for a timestream split? Would it occur here and now or . . .

No. not here and now. Delaney thought, but in the future Darkness came from. Here and now, where two timelines intersected, the immeasurable surge in temporal inertia would somehow affect the currents of both timestreams, inducing a profound rippling effect, like a timewave that would gradually swell into a tsunami as the centuries rolled by until, somewhere in the future, it broke and . . . and what?

Ultimate entropy? An end to all of time? A disaster that would make all the prophecies of Nostradamus and the biblical Apocalypse seem like nothing more serious than a mild spring shower? He shuddered at the thought

"Finn? You okay?" said Scott.

Delaney snapped out of it. "Yeah yeah. I guess so."

"For a moment there, you looked . as if the world was coming to an end."

Delaney took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "It is. Scott. Not only the world, but everything. And the Whole shebang hinges on one whacked-out scientist saying the right word at the right time. Then, for probably about one second, it's going to be up to us."

Scott moistened his lips and swallowed hard. "Nothing like a little pressure." he said, with a weak smile.

9

The Alhambra and the Oriental were the last saloons left for Lucas to check. If Delaney wasn’t there, he only hoped that Andre would find him and get him back to the hotel. Unless Finn had picked up some sort of lead and left town to pursue it, he had to be around somewhere. Lucas couldn't imagine him leaving town without letting them know. But there was no sign of Delaney in the Alhambra. Lucas decided to check the Oriental Lunch Room, which was attached to the saloon. As he entered, he walked right into the middle of an altercation.

"There ain't a word of truth to it!' Ike Clanton was shouting at a man sitting at a table. "I ain't never made no deal with him! And if Wyatt Earp says I did, then he's a damn liar and I'll make him pay for it!"

"You're a son of a bitch. Clanton." said Doc Holliday, getting up from a nearby table, "and you talk too much!"

“Man goes spreadin' lies about me. I intend to speak up about it and you ain't got no say in it. Holliday!'

"You're the one's been spreadin' lies about the Earps, Canton, and I tell you I won't stand for it," said Holliday, a dangerous edge to his voice. "And I hear it's you been telling people I was the one held up that stage and helped King get away.

'I don't know nothin' about that," Clanton protested. “And I don't know nothing about no reward for Leonard, Head and Crane, neither. It's your friend Wyatt Earp's been tellin' folks I made a deal with him in secret to double-cross those three for the reward and I ain't never done no such thing!"

"You're a liar, Clanton." Holliday replied. "You'd sell out your own mother for a dollar. I've had about enough of you and your damn mouth Jerk your pistol!"

"I'm not heeled." said Clanton, nervously. "Hell, you know the law."

"Yeah, and it seems like you obey it only when it's convenient for you." Holliday replied.

The door behind Lucas opened and Virgil Earp came in. Apparently. someone had run to fetch him.

"Trouble, Doc?" said Virgil.

"Clanton here's been spreadin' lies about us all over town," said Holliday.

"I've had about enough of it. You talk big, Clanton. Let’s see how big you are. You want a fight, you son of a bitch, you can damn well have one!"

"I told him I'm not heeled," Clanton said to Virgil. "I ain't breakin' any laws."

"You're a liar." Holliday said. "If you haven't got a gun, then go and get one! I'll wait right here!"

"I'm not going to have any shooting around here. Doc." said Virgil. "Come on, let’s step outside and talk about this."

"I'm through talkin'! And I'm through listenin' to this lyin' rustler, too!"

'Doc, I'm askin' you as a friend," Virgil said. "Let's go. Let Clanton have his mouth. He's just a blowhard, everybody knows it."

Clanton glared at Virgil, but said nothing.

Doc pointed his finger at Clanton. "I'm not through with you, you bastard. This ain't finished!"

He walked out with Virgil

You heard him!" Clanton said, to the people in the room. "You heard him threaten me! That's what this town has come to! Outlaws like Doc Holliday can threaten law-abiding citizens just because he's got the Earps there to protect him! Now they're goin’ around thrown?' dirt on my good name! Well, if they want a fight, then Ike Clanton will oblige them!"

Lucas beat a hasty retreat before he got caught in the middle of something. He knew what this was all about and he knew what it was leading up to. Wells Fargo had offered a reward for the capture of the outlaws who had killed Bud Philpot and tried to rob the stage Leonard. Head and Crane had managed to elude the posse and Wyatt Earp was still smarting from it. He wanted the glory of capturing the outlaws and he hoped to do it before the next election, when he planned to run for sheriff against Johnny Behan.

According to history, he'd secretly offered a deal to Ike Clanton. Frank McLaury and another rustler named Joe Hill, to trap the outlaws. And rather than manifest the outrage that he claimed to have over being asked to betray his friends, all Ike Clanton had wanted to know was if the reward was good dead or alive. Obviously, if the outlaws were killed, they'd never be around to tell the other rustlers who betrayed them. And the size of the reward was more than a suitable inducement.

Ike was going to set them up for an ambush and then collect the reward, only nothing ever came of it because Leonard and head were killed in an attempted store robbery in Hatchita. New Mexico and Crane was killed shortly thereafter, rustling cattle with Old Man Clanton, Ike's father. However, word of the deal leaked out and soon spread all over town, primarily because of Canton's vocal protestations to anyone who'd listen. It only added to the bad blood between the Clantons, the McLaurys and the Earps and it would lead to the most famous gunfight in western history—the shoot-out at the O.K. Corral.

The situation in Tombstone was tense enough without agents from the future contributing to temporal instability in the time sector. Lucas only hoped that whatever was supposed to happen would happen soon. Yet, at the same time, he wasn't ready for it. He hurried down the street to the Oriental Saloon.

Delaney wasn't there, either. Cursing to himself. Lucas hurried back to the hotel. He had the terrible feeling that he was running out of time, he hoped Andre had found Delaney. They had to tell him about Scott. Somehow, Lucas was certain. Scott Neilson was the key to the whole thing. Only what, exactly, were they supposed to do? And when? There was still no sign of Darkness. Why was he cutting it so close?

He ran into the hotel and hurried up the stairs to their room. Andre was already there. There was no sign of Finn Delaney.

You didn't find him?" she asked, anxiously.

Lucas shook his head. "I looked everywhere. I can't imagine where he could have gone."

“He hasn't been in at the boarding house all day." she said. “And he hasn't been seen in any of the other places that I checked. Hell, they didn't even know who the hell he was. You'd think they'd remember a guy built like a gorilla with red hair and a beard."

"Something may have happened to him," Lucas said. "Maybe he pushed Stone too close. Christ. Where haven't we checked?"

Neither Lucas nor Andre were registered at the Grand Hotel. Delaney stared at the desk clerk with astonishment. "Are you sure?" he asked.

"We don't have anyone by the name of Priest registered here, mister,” said the desk clerk. "You must have made a mistake."

"Finn," said Neilson, from behind him.

"Excuse me." Delaney said to the desk clerk and went over to join Scott and Jenny.

"They're not at this hotel." said Scott. "They're at the other Grand Hotel, in the other timeline. It's me. Somehow, you've been crossing over from one timeline to the other, but you can't do it now because of me. There's another Scott Neilson over there and if I crossed over, it would be a temporal anomaly."

Delaney frowned. "That doesn't make sense." he said. "Lucas had a double in the other universe and he was able to cross over. Why should I be prevented from crossing over because of you? And why should you be prevented from crossing over?"

"Come on, Finn. you must have figured it out by now," said Scott. "There's only one explanation that makes any sort of sense. It's not the Network, it's not the S.O.G., it isn't Drakov, it's me, the focal point of the disruption. Whatever's going to happen here. I'm at the center of the instability and when it reaches the breaking point. I'm the one who's going to trigger it somehow. Jenny, excuse us for a moment."

He drew Delaney aside and spoke to him in a low voice, so she couldn't hear.

She turned on Drakov because of me." he said, "and I don't want her to hear this but you've got to promise me one thing. When all of this is over, you'll take her back with you. She needs help, Finn. Drakov had her thinking she wasn't even human."

"What are you talking about, Scott? You know we can't possibly—“

"She doesn't belong here, Finn. Look, let's be honest with each other. Ever since Jenny told me what was going on, I’ve been wracking my brain over it, trying to figure all the angles. Drakov, the Network, the S.O.G., they're all here contributing to the instability, but they're not the real threat, are they? It's me. Somehow, In the other universe. I was the Montana Kid. I lived in another time, in another place, and I didn't know anything about the T.I.A. or temporal disruptions. You know, it's a funny thing, but I've always felt that I was born too late. That I didn't belong in my own time. that I really belonged here. And in the other timeline, that's how it was! I don't even pretend to understand the metaphysics involved, but somehow. I was fated to be here. Only I'm not supposed to be here. Whatever's going to happen to bring about the disaster up ahead, maybe the Network's going to start it. or maybe the S.0.G. or Drakov or maybe even all of them. but I'm the one who's going to finish it. Don't ask me how I know. I can just feel it. And I also have a feeling that to stop whatever's going to happen, you may have to kill me."

"Scott, you don't know what you're saying You've been under a lot of strain and—"

"Damn it, Finn, don't patronize me! You've thought about it, haven't you?

“Tell me the truth!"

Delaney took a deep breath and nodded. "Yeah, I've thought about it."

"Suppose that's what Darkness wants you to do." said Scott. “Suppose you're going to have to kill me. You are going to go through with it, aren't you?"

Scott. . ."

"Damn it, Finn, if that's how it turns out, you'll have to do it! You know you'll have to! I just want you to know I understand. Whatever happens now, if I'm really at the focal point of all this. I'm simply going to have to assume that there's nothing I can do about it. If I'm the one, then whatever it is I'm going to do, we know from Darkness that I've already done it and chances are the only way to stop me is to kill me. But only at a certain time, apparently."

"Scott, this is all conjecture," said Delaney. "You don't really know that-"

"No, I don't really know, but if that's how it's going to be, I want you to know that I understand and I want you to do what you have to do. I've only got one last request. Take Jenny with you.”

"Scott. . ."

"Please, Finn. Is it really asking all that much?"

Delaney nodded. "No. No. I don't suppose it is.”

"Then you promise?"

"Okay, I promise."

"All right, we're getting out of here, so you can find Lucas and Andre. We'll be over the Oriental. Tell the others good luck for me.”

"I will.”

“And tell them . . . just tell them that I understand."

Delaney watched as they walked out the door. He sighed heavily. "Damn it."

"Finn! Where were you?"

He turned to see Lucas and Andre coming down the stairs.

"Where were you?" he asked, astonished.

"We've been all over town looking for you! Where --

"Did you just come down from your room?"

Lucas stared at him. “Of course we just came down from our room! Where did you think we were?"

"In another universe." said Delaney. "I'll be damned He was right."

"Who was right?"

“Incredible. Nothing changed. I didn't notice or feel a thing."

"Finn, what the hell are you talking about?"

Delaney exhaled heavily. “We'd better go back up to your room." he said He shook his head. "You're not going to believe this."

Zaber came back into the saloon and sat down at the table with the others.

'They're registered at the Grand Hotel, as Mr. & Mrs. Priest." he said. "And Delaney's got a room over the Aztec."

"Are they there right now?" O'Fallon asked.

"Priest and Cross are. I don't know where Delaney is. And I haven't seen the Kid. . . ;"

"He just walked in." O’Fallon said, looking toward the door.

"What's the plan?"

“We wait. We act nice and polite–like Clanton said, we don't want any trouble. We stay right here, in front of witnesses. And when he leaves. Curly Bill plugs him."

"What about the others?"

"I've got six of the boys waiting for Delaney at his rooming house. I made it clear to them that he's extremely dangerous and if they screw up, it could mean their lives. The moment they spot him, they'll open up, As for Priest and Cross. I've got four of our best riflemen stationed on the roof of Hafford's Saloon, across from their hotel. As soon as Delaney gets it, someone's going to run inside and tell them he's been shot. The minute they step outside, the snipers will open fire with their Winchesters. Meanwhile, we'll all be sitting right here, having a nice, friendly game of cards and establishing our alibis."

"How are you going to prove to the organization that we got them?" Zaber asked.

O'Fallon smiled, "We won't have to, Paul. Forrester is going to do that for us. We'll be able to collect on that contract as soon as their names appear on the First Division's Wall of Honor.

Zaber smiled and nodded. "Nice.”

"Minimum risk, maximum profit." said O'Fallon. "That's the way to run things. Then as soon as it's over, we fold the operation and pull out, before any of their backup can arrive."

"What happens if anything goes wrong?"

"Relax and have a drink. Nothing will go wrong." He pushed a pack of cards toward him. "Shuffle the deck and deal."

Scott stood at the bar with Jenny, watching the Network men out of the corner of his eye. He was torn with indecision. He felt certain, somehow, that he was at the center of this whole temporal scenario. What should he do? Would he have to think twice about every single action he was going to take from now until . .

. whenever? Or should he simply attempt to do nothing? Maybe he should just hole up in his room and not come out until the time for whatever was supposed to happen had passed. Only how was he to know when that would be?

What troubled him the most was Drakov. Drakov troubled the others, too. Not only because of who and what he was, but because somehow he had found out about everything that was going on in this scenario. What Scott knew, he knew only from what Jenny had told him, and from what he had deduced from that, but clearly Jenny did not know everything. Drakov had told her only as much as he felt she needed to know to do her job for him. Obviously, he himself knew a great deal more. Only how'?

He knew about the Network and who they were. He knew about Ben Stone being S.O.G. and if there were others—and it would seem there had to be—he probably knew about them. too. He knew about Zeke Bailey. How could he know all that? How could he know about all the forces at work in this scenario without any of them knowing about him?

"Scott?"

He looked at Jenny.

"You look so worried."

He took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Everything's going to be all right. Jen. “