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Page 58.

Romain took Rick aside. "You're sure?"

The two men drifted into Romain's study, a smaller area full of books off to one side of the living room. In the study was a large glass-topped desk, with two office chairs of brown leather, plus a drafting table with waxy-looking yards of drawing paper spread out on an angle amid triangles, compasses, and an assortment of drawing pencils.

"Never more sure," Rick said. He thought about his fellow soldiers who had died on that desert road, all because of an incompetent officer who screwed up and then mercilessly shifted blame; to begin with, in a cause without purpose. "I am totally sure."

"Good." Romain was about Rick's height, an athlete for sure—photos of him and Mélu hung on the walls, in tennis gear, cycling, swimming—along with medals from university and sporting events. "It's not difficult. We go to Echternach—that's a Luxembourg town on the German border, where Professor Sander lives. Hannah mailed the package to him."

"We?"

"You, me, Hannah," Romain said. "Mélu has to work, and she can coordinate with our PAX contacts if it becomes necessary. We have a disinterlinked organization, like during World War II. Nobody knows who is in the movement outside of one's individual cell, if that much. It's safer that way. We drive to Echternach, which is maybe a half hour from here. We go to the post office, pick up the package, and deliver it."

"Where to?"

"Mélu will call Sander for instructions."

"This could all be over in an hour, if it works right."

Romain clapped him on the back. "See? It's solid, my friend. Solit, as we say. And then you and your beautiful friend can be on your way to California."

Rick nodded. "We have a stop to make in Germany first, but yes, I cannot wait to get this over with. How soon?"

"We leave around noon. As soon as Mélu contacts the professor."

"And this Sander invented the technology?"

"No, his son did—Pierre Sander. Wan's people murdered him, as we said. Pierre was a top engineering professor and researcher at Birmingham in England. The former U.K., before it broke up. His invention was stolen from him."

"He knew too much?"

"Yes, he could have reproduced the calculations for someone else."

"Who is this someone else PAX is working with?"

"The former West," Romain said. "Even though our governments are owned by conglomerates, along with the media and the courts, there are rival zillionaires who want to restore the West, at least to parity. It was their power base, after all. The Asians have at least two power bases—India and China. Brazil and the Spanish speaking countries of South America have another. There are at least two loci in Africa. So the logical thing is for the former West, including Europe, North America, and Australia-New Zealand, plus Japan and some other outliers, to form a counter-balance. There are very powerful players involved, including generals in your army and so forth. PAX will help them if they help PAX."

"Why would the corporations that destroyed democracy help PAX?"

Romain made a wry face. "The enemy of my enemy is my friend."

"Ah." It was the old formula of the former Middle East, today a totally rearranged set of Titanic deck chairs that would be unrecognizable from the post-Ottoman world.

"Okay," Rick said, "I'm in. Let's go."

They returned to the living room, where Hannah and Mélu stood near the window in conversation. Each looked attractive in her own way—Mélu in dark green corduroy pants that muted her wide, powerful haunches and legs made for running and jumping; Hannah the more slender, and now wearing some clean new clothing that hung too loosely on her.

Seeing Rick's expression, Romain said, "I could try loaning you some of my clothes. We are running yours through the washer and dryer as we speak."

"Looks like Mélu already fixed Hannah up."

"Women are quicker about social things. More coffee?"

"No thanks. It looks almost sunny out there."

Romain looked at the clock. "You and Hannah should talk a walk. Kill some time while you wait. It's just after nine a.m. I can drop you off at the old part of the city for a few hours. Get some fresh air and relax."

Hannah looked at Rick, having overheard the two men talking.

"Want to go for a stroll?" Rick asked.

She nodded.

"There is a lot to see," Mélu said, "but the city is not so large. You should at least see the Knuedler—that is the Place Guillaume—and the palace, the cathedral, and the old fish market area."

"I can't wait," Hannah said. She walked to Rick and pressed herself against him.

He embraced her.

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