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BACKGROUND

THE SPRUCE VALLEY MIRACLE is earth-bound science fiction. In it, a highly ethical doctor discovers a way to restore old people to the physical condition they had in their thirties.

Is this a good thing? Well, sure, it would be fine for you and me, but how many of the rest of the world's people would we want to join us in immortality? If immortality were to begin in a massive way over a span of a few years, the social disruptions could be severe. Not to mention that there are a few dirty birds, the likes of Adolph Schicklgruber (Hitler) and Joseph Djugashvili (Stalin) that one would not wish to make immortal.

The good doctor conceives a fountain of youth hoax akin to the Miracle of Lourdes so that God is given the credit (and the blame) for the miracle. This allows him to expose the world to his new marvel in a small way so that civilization has time to adjust to it.

I completed this novel in 1983, then began submitting it to the eagerly awaiting publishing world. I kept track of the rejections until the count passed 120. Did you know that there are 120 publishers? Well, actually, there are (or were) more than that. I quit counting, but kept submitting into the spring of 1999. Some people say I'm stubborn. I say I'm persistent. (Actually, I'm far more patient now than was once the case, as proven by the fact that The Dragonslayers only had 12 rejections before I settled for self-publishing.) The thing is that The Spruce Valley Miracle is a book with a message. The eternal youth at the core of this novel is happening. It's happening slowly, like global warming, but it's happening. Science is learning what governs the life of individual cells and will find a way to stop or reset our biological clocks. And science is an irresistible force. Even when church and state forced Galileo to drop his foolish insistence that the sun did not revolve around the earth, the earth did, in fact, continue to revolve about the sun. We need to think about the consequences of immortality. It's a probability, not a possibility.

It happens to be a mildly humorous novel too.

Chapter 12 is deleted below and Chapter 13 is presented with the intention that the entire novel will be presented, one chapter at a time. However, this is going rather slowly and a high percentage of the multitude reading this may have no idea what was in the first twelve chapters, so a synopsis precedes Chapter 13. You may print out one copy if you choose, but the material is protected by copyright and multiple copies or distribution is expressly forbidden.

THE SPRUCE VALLEY MIRACLE - SYNOPSIS

Chapter 1 - The Doctor's Game - Theodore Thorndike, head of The Thorndyke Corporation, an operator of rest homes for the aged, has hired Dr. Earnest Visionaire as head of his Spruce Valley facility near Saratoga, NY. Dr. Visionaire is really too perfect, so Mr. Thorndyke, a veteran of WW II, keeps asking himself, "What's wrong with this picture?" Then an 81-year old resident becomes pregnant and Theodore suddenly realizes that he hasn't seen any old residents at the Spruce Valley facility.

Chapter 2 - Pandora's Box - Confronted with the evidence, Dr. Visionaire admits that he has discovered a way to turn back the human biological clock, making old folks young again, just as he has restored his own youth. Mr. Thorndyke accepts that there are good reasons to allow the residents to continue in their belief that the spring water at Spruce Valley has rejuvenating powers. Later, Theodore realizes that there is a major downside to the whole thing and correctly identifies it as a Pandora's Box.

Chapter 3 - Project Creeper - Seeking to solidify the belief that the Spruce Valley water is a fountain of youth, Dr. Visionaire, Mr. Thorndyke, and Ellie, Mr Thorndyke's wife, set up a hoax. Dr. Visionaire, disguised as The Virgin Mary, will go through a service tunnel to the Spruce Valley spring house, where one of the residents will see her as a vision.

Chapter 4 - A Pair Of Miracles - The three conspirators set their plan in motion. It works, but due to a fluke in timing, the wrong resident sees the vision. Miss Winterborn, single, pregnant, and unrepentant, views the miraculous vision of Mary at the springhouse. The three conspirators go ahead with a second vision of Mary with Mrs. Thorndyke disguised as Mary, and, again, Miss Winterborn blunders in and appears to be chosen by Mary. A newspaper reporter related to one of the residents breaks the story in his dinky paper.

Chapter 5 - The Spotlight - The story grows to national prominence. Miss Winterborn loves being a celebrity, while the three conspirators cringe at the news overkill. Dr. Visionaire pretends ignorance and scepticism.

Chapter 6 - New Residents & Old - Applications for admission to Spruce Valley explode. Even with a new addition being built, there isn't nearly enough space. Dr. Visionaire tries to choose the most 'worthy' applicants, until Theodore tells him he can't do that without exposing their hoax as a hoax. So the good doctor concentrates on moving the rejuvenated residents out to make room for new residents. The most stubborn resident is Miss Winterborn, who enjoys her star role too much to leave. Then Ellie Thorndyke lends a hand and Miss Winterborn decides to leave one snowy evening with the baby's father, Mr. Black. Fate strikes again as the baby arrives while their car is stuck in a snowdrift. Taking refuge in a barn, baby Christofer is born on Christmas Eve and placed in a manger. The press loves it and the three conspirators philosophize over a bottle of wine.

Chapter 7 - Ms. Ormond & Uncle Sam - Baby Christofer's birth attracts world wide attention. Soon, Ms. Ormond, representing the U.S. government, arrives on the scene, requesting space at Spruce Valley for foreign V.I.P. residents and offering irresistible financial terms for the expansion of the Spruce Valley facility. Dr. Visionaire reluctantly and tentatively agrees to the new situation. He also finds Ms. Ormond incredibly attractive and a tentative romance begins.

Chapter 8 - Growing Pains - The rapid changes at Spruce Valley leave Dr. Visionaire swamped in details. Jane Ormond recommends an administrator, Henry Boggle, with in-depth experience in dealing with Government officials and paperwork. Dr. Visionaire meets and hires Henry Boggle, who tackles the job vigorously, proving what Dr. Visionaire already knew; the new people on the job would make it more difficult to guard the secrets of Spruce Valley. And a new complication arises; Ellie Thorndyke is pregnant.

Chapter 9 - Carl Kluck - Ellie returns home to Atlanta because she is expecting and needs to keep it out of the news. Carl Kluck, Jane Ormond's evil boss forces Jane to get him admitted to Spruce Valley as a resident. She explains the situation to Theodore Thorndyke and he gains Dr. Visionaire's reluctant acceptance of a bad situation. Henry Boggle advises Dr. Visionaire to deal obliquely with Carl Kluck; give him a hard time in secret and as if by accident. Dr. Visionaire sends an anonymous note to a small newspaper as if from a resident complaining about the admission of an undeserving bureaucrat. The newspaper runs the story.

Chapter 10 - Kluck's Hoax - The newspaper story exposes Kluck as a CIA agent and forces him out of Spruce Valley. But, before he leaves, he cons Theodore into believing that Dr. Visionaire has died in a car accident. Distraught and sedated with wine, Theodore eulogizes Dr. Visionaire in a way that assures Kluck that Dr. Visionaire is the source of the Spruce Valley Miracle. Reviewing the event, Jane Ormond assures her friends that Kluck is on to the truth.

Chapter 11 - A Small Riot - Ms. Jane Ormand accepts the Spruce Valley quarters vacated by Theodore and Ellie and becomes intimate with Dr. Visionaire. Carl Kluck gets revenge by showing newspaper reporters that the new VIP building at Spruce Valley is supplied only with city water, not Spruce Valley spring water. This scandal causes congressional rumblings as well as public agitation. Dr. Earnie Visionaire and Ms. Ormand flee into hiding together as rioting people crash into the Spruce Valley grounds.

Chapter 12 - The Escape Route - Jane flies Dr. Visionaire and herself out in a National Guard helicopter. They transfer to a car waiting in a remote field and the car's driver returns the helicopter to Spruce Valley. Jane suddenly gets a case of the 'shakes' and Earnie spends some calming time with her at a highway rest stop. While there, Jane reveals the harrowing time she had serving as Kluck's 'secretary' in Russia during the cold war, making it clear to Earnie that Kluck is far more dangerous than he had realized. With Jane recovered, they proceed to a single engine plane waiting to fly them into hiding. Underway, Earnie discovers that the 'motion sickness pills' the pilot gave them were really sleeping pills.

THE SPRUCE VALLEY MIRACLE - Chapter 13 - CAMP NO-NAME

Earnie came half-awake to find the pilot shaking him by the shoulder. The plane was sitting on a long piece of lawn. Jane was standing beside the plane, leaning against it with one hand while a short man in a grey suit tried to talk to her and a rather large man in a navy blue suit stood by.

Moving in a stiff and groggy way, Earnie climbed out of the plane. "That's one hell of a dramamine you serve," he groused to the pilot.

"It does make some people drowsy, Sir," the pilot said. "Enjoy your stay here." Earnie would have pursued the point, but his mind wasn't swift enough. The pilot closed the door and trotted off to the other side of the plane before he could gather his thoughts. Then the man in the grey suit coaxed Jane and Earnie into the back seat of a waiting golf cart. Then Grey Suit and Big Guy got in and started to drive them toward what looked like a French chateau some hundred yards away.

The engine of the Cessna fired up behind them and Earnie turned to watch it scoot across the lawn, lift off, and go skimming away, about 200 feet above the trees. Then he remembered to check his watch and found that his brain was barely ready for mathematics. After several tries, he concluded that the elapsed time since Saratoga was four hours. He looked at Jane, with her head down and eyes closed and wondered if they shouldn't try to keep each other awake. "Aw, the hell with it," he thought, and fell asleep himself. Later, he was vaguely aware of being carried upstairs by the big guy in the navy blue suit, being placed on a bed, and having his shoes removed. Sleep seemed to be the only thing of importance, though, and Earnie did that.

When he came awake, the only light in the room came from a dim night light plugged into a baseboard outlet. Earnie found a lamp switch and squinted his eyes against the sudden glare. The room was large by Earnie's bedroom standards; a good twenty feet by thirty feet. The ceiling was at least ten feet above the floor and embellished with a floral border done in molded plaster scrollwork. One whole wall consisted of bookshelves. There were assorted upholstered chairs and a writing desk.

Earnie got up and circled the room. There was a private bath and ample closet space. The whole place was more posh than he had expected, but it was the bookcase that surprised him. A large section was devoted to medical texts and references. That was surely no happenstance. Just how long did they expect him to stay here?

His watch told him it was midnight, but earnie was hungry and he wanted to know where Jane was. He decided to test his freedom and opened the door he expected to lead into a hallway. It opened instead into an anteroom as big and well-furnished as his bedroom. A note beside the phone on the writing desk soon caught his eye. "Please dial O for room service as soon as it is convenient for yourself," the note said. Did that include midnight, Earnie wondered. Taking the note literally, he dialed.

"Yes, Sir," came the prompt reply. "What would you like?" "Information and eats," Earnie said. "I arrived this afternoon with a young lady. Do you know anything of her?"

"The lady is in suite 24. You are in suite 25. She is awake and has ordered a room service tray which has not been delivered yet. You may phone her by dialing 24. Would you care to do that before ordering your tray, Sir?"

Earnie did that and was soon sharing a warm embrace and a whispered conversation in the hall with Jane. Then they went to Earnie's suite and he completed the room service arrangements. Jane made a quick tour of Earnie's suite and announced, "You're definitely more VIP than I am. Larger rooms. Higher-class furniture. More books. Twice the bric-a-brac."

"No problem," Earnie said. "Move right in and we'll share."

"I was just commenting on the authenticity," Jane said. "You see, State wouldn't dream of assigning two apartments that didn't accurately reflect the relative status of the two occupants."

"Ah! So you're saying this is clearly a State facility, not the lair of some nefarious imposter?"

"Now you've got it!" Jane said.

"And does State normally drug their guests?"

"Not that I was aware of," Jane admitted. "That was---less than honorable, I'd say. Security be damned."

A polite knock sounded at the door then and Earnie swung it open, expecting the room service tray. It was the big guy, empty-handed, broad of shoulder and a head taller than Earnie. He still wore a well-tailored navy blue suit, but Earnie's eye could easily see the muscular anatomy housed in that suit. The guy seemed a total contradiction to the gentle knock Earnie had heard. One expects a mule to kick like a mule.

"I'm Sydney," the big fellow said. "I thought I'd introduce myself and brief you on a few essentials while you're waiting for room service. I will be your aide and mentor here in certain personal matters and security matters."

Earnie shook hands with Sydney, invited him in, and took a seat next to Jane on the couch as Sydney took a chair facing them, sitting erect like a schoolby in the principal's office. "Regarding room service," he began, "it is available at all times and either or both of you could take all your meals in your rooms, though it is preferred that you dine in the main dining room."

"Not too formal, I hope," Earnie said. "I'm rather short on clothes."

"Neat, clean, and decent is sufficient, Sir," Sydney said. "And if either of you will give me some direction on your preferences and sizes, I'll tend to enlarging your wardrobe in the near future."

"That could be difficult in my case," Jane warned. "I nearly always have to exchange things I get at Christmas time."

"Perhaps some catalogs would help, Mam?" Sydney asked.

"Make it easy on yourself," Earnie said. "Just turn us loose for an hour or so in the local stores."

"That would be very awkward if either of you were recognized," Sydney said, seeking a delicate way to say no. "And, in any event, you would need a source of cash. You surely realize that all of your credit cards and bank accounts are quite useless for the time being?"

"I guess I knew it, but hadn't thought about it," Earnie admitted.

"Our administrator here, Mr. Mumford, will discuss such things with you in detail tomorrow," Sydney continued. "For now, it is necessary that both of you adopt new identities right away."

He pulled two packets of cards from a jacket pocket and rose briefly as he handed one packet each to Jane and Earnie. "As you can see by the cards, you, Sir, are to be known as Mr. Edward West, a pharmaceutical salesman. And you, Mam are to be known as Ms. April Delrey, an interior decorator. Your true identities are to be known only to yourselves, Mr. Mumford, and myself."

Earnie turned to Jane and said, "Ah! Ms. April Delrey, the famous interior decorator, I presume?"

"Yes. And you must be Mr. Edward West, the famous pharmaceutical salesman," Jane said. "Which famous pharmaceuticals do you sell, Sir?"

"Excellent occupational choices, Sydney," Earnie said. "I do know the pharmaceutical field quite well and Jane certainly knows interior decorating."

"April," Sydney corrected. "Ms. April Delrey."

"Right. April," Earnie agreed.

"Your room service tray will be arriving soon, so I'll be going," Sydney said. "No tipping is required - it isn't done here. I'll see you at or after breakfast tomorrow. The dining room is to the right at the foot of the stairs on the main floor."

"Oh, one thing more. You are advised not to fraternize with the hired help and not to volunteer any tid-bits of personal information to anyone. Everyone here will respect your need for secrecy and not take affront if you seem aloof."

Room service arrived as Sydney left, rather as if on cue, and Jane and Earnie had no trouble wolfing it down. "That was very good, don't you think?" Jane asked.

"Yes, but -- they cut the crust off the bread," Earnie said. "To me, that smacks of waste, vanity, and decadence. Am I just being old-fashioned?"

"No. They're just trying to treat you like a king," Jane said. "Now you know that the king doesn't always want to be treated like a king."

"And how does the queen feel?" Earnie asked.

"Uneasy," Jane said. "I'm always uneasy about something for nothing. It's the con man's favorite tool."

It was a feeling Earnie shared, so they agreed to prepare for the next day by getting a good night's sleep. Whoever awoke first would phone the other and they would see if the breakfast was as decadent as the food service tray. As soon as he was up the next morning, Earnie checked the view from his windows. They looked out on that spacious lawn the plane had landed on yesterday. It was bordered by a woven wire fence topped with barbed wire. A dense row of tall evergreens just beyond the fence blocked any further view. He was about to open a window when he noticed what seemed to be alarm switches on both sides at the top. All of the windows had these switches as well as conductive foil borders on the glass. Well, he wasn't all that eager to open a window anyway. Now he had to consider his pants. He had slept in them last night to be sure that some 'valet service' didn't grab them before he awoke. But he couldn't guard them too closely without calling attention to them. Those filamentary tubes containing the pellets were heat-sealed at one-inch intervals. They could stand laundering, dry cleaning, and pressing. But could they escape an experienced search? And, if he tried to move them from one pair of pants to another, would he get caught doing it? How would he get caught? A spy camera? Jane? Jane could be trusted with the secret, but it would be best for her not to know. Reaching his decision, he opened his suitcase and laid out fresh clothes for the day, then hung the rest of his clothes, including yesterday's pants, in the closet. Better, as far as he could guess, to leave the pellets where they were. He gave Jane her wake-up call, then went into the shower.

By 9 o'clock, they had found the dining room and were just being seated when Sydney came in, ushering an old man. The old man shuffled rather than walked, yet he had an erect bearing and alert manner. One sensed on seeing him that he had been somebody important and maybe still was. "Mr. Dimitri," Sydney said, "meet our new guests, Mr. Edward West and Ms. Alice Delrey." Earnie shook hands and Jane said hello.

"May we join you for breakfast?" Sydney asked, and was promptly accepted.

"Mr. Dimitri is also a guest," Sydney explained. "Our most time-honored guest."

"Time does not honor a man. It only makes him old," Mr. Dimitri contradicted in a heavy accent that Earnie took to be Greek.

"Are you a refugee, Sir?" Earnie asked.

"I was once," Mr. Dimitri said. "Now I only fear that my old enemies have forgotten me."

"Is that bad?" Earnie asked.

"When your enemies forget you, who will remember you?" Mr. Dimitri asked.

At that point, another man entered the dining room and Earnie recognized Grey Suit. A short man, he still wore the grey 3-piece suit he had been wearing yesterday and looked well-fed rather than stout. His prosperous look, a touch of grey hair at the temples, and rimless glasses, gave the impression that he might be a banker or chairman of the board or some such thing.

"Ah! Charlie Mumford is here!" Mr. Dimitri exclaimed. "Now it is officially breakfast time!"

"Bad protocol on my part, being the last one here," Mr. Mumford apologized. "Fine host I am! And you must be Alice Delrey and Edward West?"

Earnie and Jane nodded agreement and Charlie continued, "I'm Charlie Mumford, Administrator here. Sydney has gotten you off on the right foot, I trust?"

"Seems as if," Earnie agreed. "Yes, quite well," Jane added.

"Good! Well, let's not talk shop now," Charlie said. "That can wait until after breakfast."

Breakfast itself was a very agreeable affair. The menu was much longer and more flexible than either Jane or Earnie required. Sydney and Charlie guided the conversation along channels that avoided the past, present, and future of the guests; stuff like sports, literature, movies, fishing and farming. No shop talk.

The shop talk, as promised, came afterward. Mr. Dimitri had excused himself to go back to his apartment and Sydney had gone with him. Mr. Mumford had invited Earnie and Jane to come with him for a 'little chat' and they were soon seated in an office which boasted a glossy mahogany desk, a couple of upholstered chairs and a sofa, a wall lined with bookshelves, and some glossy hand-tooled cabinetwork that contained a glass-doored bar.

"Would you care for a morning pick-me-up?" Mr. Mumford asked with a wave toward the bar.

"No, thanks," Earnie and Jane said in unison, then Earnie continued, "What I'd really like is some idea of where I am. What do you call this place?"

"Call it what you will," Charlie invited. "Shangri-La. Little Utopia. Tahiti West. A rose is a rose, it is what it is, and I can't name the rose or say where it is."

"Uh-huh," Earnie said. "And I thought Churchill was speaking of Russia when he spoke of a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma. Okay, it's got to have a name and I shall call it Camp No-Name. All in favor, say aye."

Charlie and Jane said, "Aye," and Earnie gained but an empty success.

"Well, then, while we're on the subject of names," Charlie said, "the thing I need to know is whether either or both of you would care to make your change of identity permanent."

"I hadn't planned on it," Earnie said. "Alice will have to speak for herself, but I'd like to give it some careful thought before answering."

"Yes, quite understandable," Charlie agreed. "I had considered awakening you last night or early this morning to ask, but felt that you should be well rested and comfortable when making making such a decision. You see, there's a sort of crisis opportunity here that requires a quick answer. The outside world believes that you two were critically injured in that helicopter crash at Spruce Valley yesterday afternoon. It's a rare opportunity, actually. You can slam the door on all inquiries as to your whereabouts by taking the accidental death option."

"It seems a drastic way to get away from it all." Earnie said. "Shucks, I'm not in that much trouble, am I?"

"You know more about that than I do," Charlie answered. "It wasn't my decision to make it seem as if you two were caught in the helicopter crash."

"Oh? Who's decision was it?" Jane asked.

"Higher-ups," Charlie said, shrugging his shoulders and holding his hands palm upward.

"Oh. Those guys," Jane said, as if the question had been answered.

"It wouldn't work anyway," Earnie said. "You would need bodies."

"Not really," Charlie said. "After cremation, a pig's ashes can pass for human."

"Oh, gross! You didn't have to tell us that!" Jane said.

"Am I to pick and choose the truth I tell you?" Charlie asked.

"Well, ---no," Jane said. "Just don't be gross."

"On a more positive note, then, you'll be happy to know that you can take it with you. You can each write out a will, which can be suitably back-dated, leaving the bulk of your possesions to an intermediary who will deliver them to you."

"Minus inheritance taxes, of course," Jane said wryly.

"Not at all," Charlie answered. "The tax authorities will collect their inheritance taxes, if any, but it will be refunded to you from discretionary funds under our control. One hand taketh and the other hand returneth."

"Thanks for the effort, Charlie, but I can't write a new will," Jane said. "Mother would never understand. And there's the life insurance to consider too. If the insurance company pays off on my death, I'm guilty of fraud, am I not?"

"A teensy bit," Charlie admitted. "But, if you get caught at it, you'll find them happy to drop charges if you repay it. It's no big deal."

"Let's get back to the who and why," Earnie said. "Who's idea is this and why should we be considering it?"

Charlie squirmed in his chair a moment, then answered with obvious reluctance. "I'm not sure who actually proposed it, but apparantly it would be in the State Department's best interests. The idea of hiding you two from congress has made several people very nervous. They were on the point of cancelling the whole thing when events presented this opportunity. Everybody would be off the hook if people were convinced that you two died in the crash."

"Maybe that makes sense for Mr. Edward West, here," Jane said, "but why me? Why do I have to be dead?"

"Two reasons," Charlie said. "For one thing, it makes a less suspicious story. If it appears that Dr. Visionaire got killed while trying to break away from Spruce Valley, the event may appear sinister to friend and foe alike. The investigation could be an endless thing, like the Kennedy assassination. On the other hand, if he was leaving for a well-earned vacation with a seductive colleague, there's an element of poetry in it. It's human, it's understandable, it's tragic, it's Romeo and Juliet. People will want to believe it. Investigations would be superficial. There's no glory in throwing mud on a masterpiece."

"Seductive, eh?" Jane asked with a coy smile.

"Devastatingly!" Charlie nodded. "And the second reason is that if Doctor Visionaire is dead and you're not; guess who all those investigators will hound for the answers."

"Now, that's devastating!" Jane agreed.

"So," Charlie said, in the manner of a lawyer who has summed up his case, "What's your decision, Mr. Edward West?"

"I think you're putting me between a rock and a hard spot," Earnie said. "Death tends to be sort of final."

"Not necessarily," Charlie coaxed. "You can go on being a medical doctor in your new identity. It wouldn't be the best possible cover, but you'll find us very accomodating."

"And you need an answer right away quick, like now?"

"Timing is crucial. If we're going to do it, we've got to get you dead and cremated before we get requests to see you."

"Are you for it, Alice?" Earnie asked.

"It makes sense," Jane answered.

"Okay. We'll go along with it," Earnie said.

Charlie picked up the phone, punched in a set of numbers, and gave the verdict rather more cheerfully than seemed right to Earnie; "The crash was fatal. Got that?" After a short pause, he said, "Right. You know what to do," and hung up.

"Mom isn't going to like it, my being cremated," Jane mourned.

"We'll make it look like the cremation order was only meant for Doctor Visionaire, but was written so ambiguously that somebody goofed. And we'll say the injuries were so severe that it seemed the proper thing to do," Charlie said.

"I'm afraid that won't cheer her up much," Jane said.

"It has its compensations," Earnie said, trying to put a cheerful face on it. "Maybe the day will come when you can go see your mother again. Wouldn't that be something?"

"Are you kidding?" Jane yelped. "If the shock didn't kill her, she'd kill me!"

After that, Charlie started to probe Earnie and Jane's preferences as to their new locations and identities, but they begged off, saying they would need time to think about it.

"No problem," Charlie agreed. "Whenever you decide, I can have it all set up within two or three weeks of the go-ahead. Hell, I can even get the two of you married if you want!"

"You're too generous, Charlie," Jane said. "Let us work out some of the details ourselves."

"Okay," Charlie agreed. "I just thought if I could do an extra good job for you two, you might find some way to expose me to that SVM thing."

"Suddenly I remember why I'm so soul-weary," Earnie said. "I've really had it with the SVM! I hate to be a party-pooper, Charlie, but, adios for now." He rose, waved half-heartedly, and left.

Jane stayed just long enough to say, "Really, Charlie, Earnie --- Mr. West -- has had it up to the eyeballs with people thinking he's got a lock on the SVM. Go easy on it, won't you?"

Charlie nodded. "You're right, of course. But there's nothing I'd rather be than twenty years younger. Terribly gauche of me to be pushy about it, but I had to give it a try. Just once, anyway."

"Yes," Jane agreed. "It does things to people. That mob scene at Spruce Valley --- well, --- it's too soon, I don't want to talk about it."

"We needn't rush anything," Charlie said. "Just rest and relax for now. Your wish is my command. What with the end of the cold war, you folks and Mr. Dimitri are the last of our guests. Your leaving could mean the end of our funding and me out of a job. Tough spot to be in at my age. I guess that's why I felt I had to make that plug for myself about the SVM thing." Jane gave Charlie that same half-heated wave he had gotten from Earnie, and turned to leave. "Please don't forget me!" Charlie called after her.

She caught up to Earnie at the front door and they agreed to explore the grounds. They were some thirty yards from the building when Earnie said, "Well, April Delrey, is it safe to talk out here? Really talk, I mean."

"Reasonably, Mr. West," Jane said. "Speak softly and don't say anything really confidential while facing the main building or within twenty feet of anything like a tree, building, or fence."

"You really believe ---"

"Yes!" Jane insisted. "I've been in places so heavily monitored that it was like being in a spider web. Every movement and sound was under surveillance. Maybe it isn't like that here. Probably it isn't. They don't seem to have enough staff for it. But it's the improbable surveillance that catches the most candid information. If we are in some sort of sophisticated spy web and don't make any mistakes, their own sophistication will deceive them into thinking they know all there is to know. Or we might feed them some misinformation. Okay?"

Earnie thought again of that long-ago teddy bear that fell in the toilet and never again seemed clean. Could a world drenched in deception ever seem clean again? But that was too pessimistic, wasn't it? Self-defeating. Better to play the game and hold fast to a hope of reaching that proverbial light at the end of the tunnel.

"So be it," he said. "And while we're presumably in the clear, how do you think we're doing so far? Any second thoughts on being dead and reborn?"

"I sort of like it. It's a fresh start, something like your Plan B. Are you comfortable with it?"

"I like it a lot more than I wanted Charlie to know, but I keep looking for the worm in the apple."

"Yes. It doesn't pay to be naive in these things. I keep looking for the worm too, but I don't see it. Not yet anyway."

THE END - Chapter 13

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