“She’ll settle for that. She’ll be grateful to settle for that. Ask me. I know.”

“And if I don’t come out alive? She’ll have nothing… Nothing but half a memory of half a love.”

“No, Barbara,” he said. “That isn’t it at all.”

“It is,” she insisted. “It is!”

“No. It’s the baby part of you talking. The baby thinks she’s in love with me. The woman is not.”

“She’ll grow up into the woman.”

“And she’ll forget all about me.”

“You’ll make her remember.”

“Why should I, Barbara?”

“Because you feel that way about me, too. I know you do.”

Powell laughed. “Baby! Baby! Baby! What makes you think I’m in love with you that way? I’m not. I’ve never been.”

“You are!”

“Open your eyes, Barbara. Look at me. Look at Mary. You’re ages older, aren’t you? Can’t you understand? Do I have to explain the obvious?”

“For God’s sake, Linc!”

“Sorry, Mary. Got to use you.”

“I’m getting ready to say goodbye… Maybe for good… Do I have to endure this? Isn’t it bad enough for me already?”

“Shhhhh. Gently, dear…”

Barbara stared at Mary, then at Powell. She shook her head slowly. “You’re lying.”

“Am I? Look at me.” He put his hands on her shoulders and looked into her face. Dishonest Abe came to his assistance. His expression was kind, tolerant, amused, patronizing. “Look at me, Barbara.”

“No!” she cried. “Your face is lying. It’s… It’s hateful! I —” She burst into tears and sobbed: “Oh go away. Why don’t you go away?”

“We’re going away, Barbara.” Mary said. She came forward, took the girl’s arm and led her to the door.

“There’s a Jumper waiting, Mary.”

“There’s me waiting, Linc. For you. Always. And the Chervils & @kins & Jordans &&&&&&&—”

“I know. I know. I love you all. Kisses. XXXXXX. Blessings…”

Image of four-leaf clover, rabbits’ feet, horseshoes…

Bawdy response of Powell emerging from slok covered with diamonds.

Faint laughter.

Farewell.

He stood in the doorway whistling a crooked, plaintive tune, watching the Jumper disappear into the steel-blue sky boring north toward Kingston Hospital. He was exhausted. A little proud of himself for having made the sacrifice. Intensely ashamed of himself for feeling proud. Clearly melancholic. Should he take a grain of Potassium Niacate and kick himself up into the manic curve? What the hell was the use? Look at that great foul city of seventeen and one half million souls and not one soul for him. Look at—

The first impulse came. A thin trickle of latent energy. He felt it distinctly and glanced at his watch. Ten-twenty. So soon? So quickly? Good. He’d better get ready.

He turned into the house and darted up the stairs to his dressing room. The impulses came pattering… like the preliminary raindrops before a storm. His psyche began to throb and vibrate as he reached out and absorbed those tiny streams of latent energy. He changed his clothes, dressed for all weather, and—

And what? The pattering had become a drizzle, washing over him, filling his consciousness with ague… with grinding emotional flashes… with — Yes, nutrient capsules. Hold on to that. Nutrient. Nutrient. Nutrient! He tumbled down the stairs into the kitchen. Found the plastic bulb, cracked it and swallowed a dozen capsules.