to complete your team. I let you down. Now I've picked you up again, and
from here on--out--I--"

I nodded. "Sold," I told her.

"Good. Now, Steve, dig the hallway."

I did. There was no one there. I opened my mouth to tell her so, and
then closed it foolishly.

"Dig the hallway down to the left. Farther. To the door down
there--three beyond the one you're perceiving now--is there a wheelchair
there?"

"Wheelchair?" I blurted.

"Steve, this is a hospital. They don't even let a man with an aching
tooth walk to the toothache ward. He rides. Now, you keep a good esper
watch on the hall and if anybody looks out while I'm gone, just cast a
deep dig at their face. It's possible that at this close range I can
identify them from the perceived image in your mind. Although, God
knows, no two people ever _see_ anything alike, let alone perceive it."

She slipped out, leaving me with the recumbent form of my former
sweetheart. Her face had fallen into the relaxed expression of sleep,
sort of slack and unbuttoned.

#Tough, baby,# I thought as I closed my eyes so that all my energy could
be aimed at the use of my perception.

Farrow was going down the hall like a professional heading for the
wheelchair on a strict order. No one bothered to look out; she reached
the locker room and dusted the wheelchair just as if she'd been getting
it for a real patient. (The throb in my finger returned for a parthian
shot and I remembered that I _was_ a real patient!) She trundled the
chair back and into my room.

"In," she said. "And keep that perception aimed on the hallway, the
elevator, and the center corridor stairs."

She packed me with a blanket, tucking it so that my shoes and
overclothing would not show, doing the job briskly. Then she scooped
Catherine up from the floor and dropped her into my bed, and then rolled
Catherine into one of those hospital doodads that hospitals use for male
and female alike as bedclothing.

"Anyone taking a fast dig in here will think she's a patient--unless the
digger knows that this room is supposed to be occupied by one Steve
Cornell, obviously male. Now, Steve, ready to steer?"

"Steer?"

"Steer by esper. I'll drive. Oh--I know the way," she told me with a
chuckle. "You just keep your perception peeled for characters who might
be over-nosy. I'll handle the rest."

We went along the hallway. I took fast digs at the rooms and hall ahead
of us; the whole coast seemed clear. Waiting for th