“Whose butt, then?”
“Nobody’s really.”
“It was a philosophical discussion about butts?”
“I didn’t know why we had cracks.”
“And did we resolve the issue?”
“When somebody laughs really hard, you say they ‘cracked up.’ ”
“Few people know this, but we’re born crackless, until our first hearty gale of laughter splits apart the glutes.”
After he left, I closed my eyes and tried to sleep. I was a little afraid of what I might dream, but I was pretty tired.
I was just drifting off when I heard the door open and the heavy tread of boots on the wooden floor. I didn’t need to open my eyes to know who it was.
“Hi, Sam,” I said.
He hovered near the door.
“You can come in,” I said.
He walked slowly to the chair beside the bed. Sat. Looked at me.
“I guess you got me on that chopper in the nick of time,” I said.
“Thankfully, yes. The doctor expects a full recovery.”
“Did you hear what Abigail Smith expects?”
He answered slowly, choosing his words carefully.
“Not what either of us expected, of course. But I think it’s an intriguing proposition.”
“I’d have to trust her.”
He nodded. “Do you?”
I thought about it. “Oh, heck, Sam, I guess if I gave up on that I might as well stay dead.”
“Nueve will fight for his position. And it’s quite difficult to fire an Operative Nine. It’s considered a lifetime appointment.” “It’s weird,” I said. “Until all this happened, I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with my life, but it sure wasn’t being a Superseding Protocol Agent.”
“Becoming one might be your only way to ensure SOFIA is never reborn.”
“You gotta become a devil to fight him?”
He looked at me with those dark, hound-dog eyes, so homely and also so sad.
“Somehow I don’t think that will ever happen with you, Alfred.” He changed the subject. “She’s asked to see you.”
“Ashley.”
“Yes.”
“Should I?”
“It was the worst kind of blackmail, Alfred. Nueve used her to monitor you after your escape from Camp Echo, used her feelings for him. She never wished any harm to come to you.”