"Yes."

"What for?" she asked. "I could fly it myself and lock you out of the controls."

Thomas feared to hope. "Then I don't understand."

"You have infiltrated my mesh systems." She pushed her hand through her hair, mussing it around her

shoulders. "The more my code evolves, the more it reproduces, propagates, and evolves sections pertaining to you. I can't get rid of them; I would have to delete far too much of myself in the process."

He didn't know what to say. "What are you trying to tell me?"

"With all this new code, I can't put you out of my life. I believe humans refer to this type of disturbance as 'devotion.' "

A smile was beginning inside of Thomas. "Is that an EI way of saying you're falling in love with me?"

"I don't know. However, that would be the logical conclusion."

"Very logical." He didn't see why such a blunt and unromantic declaration felt so incredibly good, but it

did. He finally did what he had wanted to since their first good-bye on the beach, which was pull her into his arms and kiss her, good and hard.

After several moments, when they paused, she smiled slightly. "I've a lot of coding about that, too."

"About kissing me?"

"And other things." She put her palms on his shoulders and pushed him away. "I'm changing the options."

He stiffened, suddenly wary. "How?"

"We go in the Banshee. You pilot. Lock me out if you don't trust me. I'll input the flight plan for Brazil.

It's your choice: go there or go home. You won't have to decide right away. The Banshee can hide from

your military's best detectors. You can make your choice practically up to the last moment: home or

Brazil. Either way, I come with you."

h.e.l.l and d.a.m.nation. Just when he thought he had resisted the temptation and could walk away, she changed the game. He had feared if he went back to say good-bye, he might never leave. Now she wanted him to spend hours in the Banshee with her, contemplating how easy it would be to change his plans and accept what she offered. He couldn't refuse to take her with him, not if he had the chance to bring her back to the Air Force. Regardless of their conflicted, confusing relationship, he should jump at the chance. But if he spent the next few hours with her, he didn't know if he would be strong enough, in the end, to resist the Faustian choice she offered.

He spoke softly. "You're killing me."

Her voice was strained. "If you aren't sure what you want, then let me off at the private airfield where we

got the Banshee. You don't have to come with me today or tomorrow or next year. If you don't turn me in to your authorities, the android will still be there for you no matter when you decide to come to me."

He wanted to groan. "I can't let you go, not if it's within my power to bring you in. You're too important."

"I would rather be free." She set her palm against his chest. "As would you."

Thomas held her hand against his chest. "I can't choose."

"When the time comes to decide," she said, "you will."

Yes. He would. But it was no longer a clean choice. Letting her go and bringing her in were both wrong.

Asylum had seemed like a good idea when he first thought of it, but the more he and Alpha had debated, the more he doubted it. If they decided to take her apart despite his protests, he couldn't stop them. If he let her go, he was freeing a potentially devastating threat. He wanted to believe she wouldn't seek harm with Charon's empire, but he didn't have the right to gamble on that. Either he had to sacrifice Alpha or he had to sacrifice the principles that defined his life.

No matter what he did, he would hate himself for it.

* * * Rain pounded the Banshee as it arrowed through the darkness in the hours before dawn. Lightning cracked far too close to the jet, spectacular in its jagged brilliance. Thunder roared. Thomas had flown in bad weather before, but never like this. It demanded his attention; even an AI as advanced as the Banshee's couldn't make the decisions necessary to fly on instruments in weather this brutal.

The jet's stealth capability was every bit as good as Alpha had claimed. He was approaching the Eastern

Seaboard of North America, and no one had picked them up yet, neither a civilian nor military air command. He still didn't know what he would do: let Alpha off so she could disappear, bring her back with him, or return to Charon's secret airfield to refuel for a trip to Brazil.

They were precariously low on fuel; no matter what he decided, they had to land soon. It wouldn't be long before he entered the air defense interdiction area that protected Washington, D.C. If he kept this course, he had to contact the authorities soon; otherwise, he risked having his own people shoot him down.

He had to decide: divert or go home.

Alpha was in the backseat, a silent, unforgettable presence. She had hardly spoken throughout the flight.

It left Thomas to wrestle with his thoughts, a more effective means of persuasion than if she had kept talking, trying to convince him to go with her.

"I have a duty to my country," he said suddenly, his voice almost lost in the rumble of the storm.

Silence.

He thought of his children and grandchildren. "I love my family."

"They all have their lives," Alpha said. "What do you have?"

"Them. And my work."

"You can't live vicariously through them. And you're past retirement age."

He didn't want to think about how he and Janice had planned for his retirement. Moisture threatened his

eyes. d.a.m.n it, he wasn't going to get maudlin. He turned his concentration back to the storm.After a few minutes, Alpha asked, "How do you feel?"Such a simple question-with a world of temptation behind it. What could he say? I feel like s.h.i.t. He wasn't breathing well. His leg ached with a constant pain that had worsened during his hours in the Banshee. Even if the doctors fixed his immediate problems, that wouldn't take away the effects of age on his body. Once he had felt as if he would live forever; now every day reminded him of his mortality. His diminished eyesight, his inability to sleep well at night, the struggle to stay fit with a body that tired far more easily than it had fifty, thirty, even ten years ago. Always, in the back of his mind was his fear of another heart attack. Bit by bit, day by day, he was dying of age and loneliness.

"It would hurt my family if I disappeared," he said.

Alpha spoke softly, with an incredible compa.s.sion that two weeks ago he wouldn't have believed possible. "It will devastate them when you die of a heart attack."

"No!" His hand jerked on the stick and he almost knocked the Banshee off course. Angry at himself, he

focused on his flying When his pulse settled, he said, "I took an oath to my country."

"You've served your country for half a century. You've a record to be proud of, Thomas. But you

deserve a life of your own."

He thought of all the times Thomas Jr. had told him exactly that, of all the times Leila had urged him to take a vacation, of Fletcher's teasing that Dad needed to get out more and have fun."Alpha, don't." He wasn't even sure what he was asking her not to do. Stop making me see the paucity of my life.

Silence.

Then she said, "How long were you married?"

"Forty-five years."

"Did you ever cheat on her?"

The d.a.m.nable moisture gathered in his eyes again. "No."

"Never?" She sounded incredulous. "In forty-five years?"

"Never."

"Was she your childhood sweetheart?"

"Yes," he whispered.

She spoke with a longing that seemed almost tangible. "I would give anything to be loved that way."

Anything. Unlike most people who used that phrase so easily, never expecting to be called on it, Alpha

meant her words. She could give him anything: youth, limitless wealth, perfect health, a body stronger

and faster than any human, the incredible power of Charon's empire, an enhanced intellect, even immortality.

Love.

He thought of the flowers he often left on Janice's grave. A tear ran down his face. "Alpha, I-I don't know."

Softly she said, "I would love you."

And I think I could love you. He couldn't say it aloud. Such words had never come easy to him, and now they were impossible.But he had a way to tell her without speaking. Intent on his instruments, Thomas slowly brought the Banshee around until they were headed in a southward direction. Toward South America.

Alpha had to know he had changed course; she would see it on her console. If she said anything, anything at all, he would change his mind and head back to Washington. But even in the short time they

had known each other, she had learned to judge him well, to see that her silent presence worked better with him than words. Only one other woman had ever known him that well. Janice.Suddenly another memory came to Thomas. See my kitty, Grampy? Her name is Soupy. He saw Jamie's face smudged with paint, her tousled gold curls, a cranky angel who needed a nap, a wide-eyed child hanging on his every word, a small girl who already showed signs of the formidable woman she would someday become.