"I've taken the liberty of having Mr. Shaw's Land Cruiser given a thorough check-over at our motor pool garage. The oil's been changed, engine tuned, and a new set of tires put on. Think of it as the least we can do. We've also arranged for monetary compensation for your time here. Should you need any medical attention in the next few years, that's on us, too. I assume one or more of you will sue us." Fulton shrugged. "All right. Your hall doors will be opened in five minutes. If you're up to it, I'd like to thank each of you personally and shake your hand. My gratitude is sincere, but I won't require you to acknowledge."

"Shake the fucking President's hand," Minelli roared. "Ah, Christ, let me out."

Fulton walked with the watch supervisor down the connecting corridor between the cells, his face ashen. "This whole thing . . . has become the worst screwup ... of my entire career," he said, eyes half closed.

Within half an hour, the four stood in sunshine outside the smooth concrete walls of the Experimental Receiving Laboratory, blinking. Edward made a point of keeping close to Stella. She seemed frail, excessively quiet, her face drawn and haunted like that of a starved child.

"You going to make it?" Edward asked.

"I want to go home. I'm clean, but I want to take a shower at home. Does that make sense?"

"Perfect sense," Edward said. "Wash off all the prison cooties."

She smiled broadly, then opened her arms wide and held them out to the sky, making an ecstatic feline wriggle. "God. The sun."

Minelli covered his eyes with one hand against the sun, stretching the other hand out palm-up to catch the rays. "Beautiful," he said.

"What do you want to do, Edward?" Stella asked.

"Take a hike," Edward said without hesitating. "Get back out to the desert."

"If any of you wants to spend some time in Shoshone ..." Stella paused. "It might be silly, you probably want to get as far away from here as possible, but you can stay at our house. I realize you must have other things to do."

"We're at loose ends," Reslaw said. "I am, anyway."

They passed General Fulton and Colonel Phan as the watch supervisor escorted them into a small auditorium near the base public information office. An Air Force lawyer talked to them about their immediate future and offered legal assistance, including the agenting of book and movie offers, without fee. "I think I'm pretty good, and so does the Air Force," he said. "Nothing mandatory, of course. If you don't like me, the service will pay for any lawyer you choose, within reason."