sixty

for him. But he needed a skycar of his own. And gods be praised, he now had a beauty. Tonight he'd fly into Hong Kong with his new toy and return to the Cafe Deco. This time he would ask the hostess in her long metallic blue cheong-sam to dance with him. He would insist that she celebrate his hard-won victories with him. How could she say no? He was, after all, the Dealer.
* * *
Jessica's skycar landed behind her new house. She forced herself to remember that this was not a new house, though—it was a new home. She walked through the long shadows of twilight, out onto the porch that stretched beyond the edge of the hill. Behind her stood a simple white frame building. Before her she could see miles of high-desert forest; the stumpy trees spread to the edge of the world, and on into the Arizona sunset. No houses marred the view. Far to the right she could see the haze of the lights of Kingman.
For sixty years now, this place had been a sanctuary for people in pain. Jessica had no doubt she would need it more tomorrow than she did today, and even more the day after that.
A high whistling song wafted to her from within the house. She pulled out her palmtop, spoke briefly, and heard the latch of the door unlock. Calmly, quietly, she entered the world of Morgan MacBride.
Solomon spread her wings as she entered the room. "Boss gone," Solomon said mournfully.
"Boss is gone," Jessica replied in soft agreement. She held out her hand to the bird, so Sol could step up onto her. "You're going to have to help me, make