e was cover most of the way. Nelson went first, crouching low to
the ground and running with the ease of a cat. He made the log and
began firing to cover Glynnis. He saw her coming, out of the corner of
his eye, then concentrated on covering her with firepower. Suddenly
the girl let out a startled yell and he saw her sprawl to the ground,
tripping over a root. He called her name and without thinking leaped
to his feet to run to help her. He was halfway there when the
patrolman came into range. Nelson realized what he had done. Glynnis
was already on her feet and running. Cursing himself, Nelson jerked
his gun around, but it was too late. An energizer blast exploded the
ground beneath him and he felt himself hurtling over backwards. He
could only see blackness and the bright, quick, flashing of pin-point
light in it. Then, he was falling, spinning....

* * * * *

Patrol Cadet Wallace Sherman watched the man on the table with mixed
feelings; on the one hand, there was pity for a man whose condition
was hopeless, and on the other there were the misgivings that come
with guarding a criminal. Perhaps it was Sherman's youth that caused
him to emphasize those misgivings and move his hand toward his sidearm
when the man stirred.

But the man on the table only stirred a little and groaned. Sherman
was not sure whether or not the man was coming to. He shouldn't be,
Sherman knew. He took a couple of steps forward and starred at the
man's face.

The man was breathing normally. His head moved slightly but his eyes
were still closed. His face was the palest, softest looking face
Sherman had ever seen. It was the face of a man who had never known
sunlight, Sherman thought somberly; or at least had not known it in
many years. He wondered, vaguely just what kind of life the man
dreamed he had. As he was watching the man's face, Sherman saw his
lips move and heard him utter something he could not make out. He bent
closer to hear better.

"Glynnis"--the man on the table was saying.

"Is he waking up?" Sherman heard a voice asking.

A little embarrassed, Sherman turned around and saw Blomgard standing
in the doorway, "Oh, I'm sorry, sir. No. At least I don't think so. He
said something; a word. _Glynnis_, I think. Sounds like a girl's
name."

Dr. Blomgard came into the room and walked over to the table on which
his patient was stretched out. He removed the clipboard from its hook
and looked through