The Janus Syndrome | Page 4

clutch the wound in her shoulder,
which was pointless. The wound would have been instantly cauterized.
I hunkered down next to her, gently pulled her hand away from her
shoulder, and took the gun from her. There was no resistance.
The beam had gone straight through, leaving a neat hole and some
serious burning.
She didn't say anything; she couldn't speak. She was in agony; her skin
was a dirty gray under the light reflecting from the parking area, and
her teeth were clenched together.
I stripped her jacket off carefully and laid it aside; I was going to need
it in a minute. Then I unbuttoned her blouse.
"You know something, honey," I said, as I pulled it away from her
shoulder.
"Here we are, everybody's getting shot at, and all I'm doing is
undressing you."
I bit a wince in half, clamping my teeth together as I peeled the cloth
away from the wound; sympathy or empathy. I'm lousy with it, most
times. I start feeling like it's me who's been shot.
Kerry's face twisted; it was worse for her. I could have used a telepath
to bleed off the sensations. I still had to get at the entrance wound.
"Better grid your teeth, lady," I said.

And ripped the blouse from the burn-holes all the way around.
"That's gonna go first --" I picked a section of bra strap off her shoulder;
it had been cut neatly at both ends, leaving a short white piece and two
tags -- "on your expense account, I guess." I dropped the piece in
Kerry's lap as I picked up her jacket.
"I spend months trying to charm you out of this rig, and when I finally
get started, I have to turn --" ripped the lining from the jacket with a
grunt, checking the contents, -- "nurse and doctor. Kept telling you
about how you were so attractive. And you get shot."
The beam had cut through the top of a strip of explosive F, but nothing
else had been touched. And the explosive was useless without the
detonators.
I stripped out the flat medipak and depressed the function key at the
bottom, stretching the 'pak out to enough length to fit over Kerry's
double wound. I bent back to her and applied it to her shoulder like a
giant white Band-Aid, pressing it down gently.
As I set the last edge into place, a blue strip lit across the middle of the
'pak; treatment had started. Kerry relaxed with a sigh while I unclipped
a medical transponder from the jacket and clipped it to her bra.
I sat back on my heels and looked at her. "How do you feel now? "I
feel incredibly good," she said, in a weak voice. "I've just been shot,
and I obviously feel wonderful."
I laughed, and she smiled, wanly. "You're coming back to normal."
She sat up and got into a more comfortable position; the 'pak would
have administered painkillers and stimulants.
She said, "Uh-huh. I wouldn't mind so much if you didn't chatter while
doctoring me."
"That's to stop me from fainting," I said. Not quite true, but my nerves

always managed to let me down when forced into things like this. If I
didn't talk to myself, I'd probably slip up.
Kerry said, "No wonder, is it, that I ignore you in favor of stronger
men?" She grinned. "Tomari, you're a fake. What's happening with the
guy that shot me?"
"Just a minute." I crept around to a window, getting street mud on my
hands; the knees of my pants were finished already, and my knees sore
from crawling on the sidewalk.
I wiped my hands down the sides of my pants and looked through the
glass, watching for a moment. The cops weren't doing too well; a
couple of them were stretched out, and the rest were simply blasting
away with no hope of hitting him.
They needed a tactical squad, and, if my guess was good, one might
even be gearing up now. They didn't know what they were up against.
I did.
I dropped down and crept back to Kerry, passing on the situation as I
settled down. I added, "He's going to massacre those cops unless
somebody takes a bomb to him."
She looked at me. "You're offering?"
"Well, you aren't." I picked up her jacket and ripped out two Bullets,
passed one to her. "There's your ticket home."
"Hoo-ha, Area Fourteen is going to have words with me." She took the
Bullet, held it up to look at it. "I wasn't supposed to have that
needle-spitter, you know."
"Those Enemy cats weren't supposed to have those lasers either," I said,
as I stripped out the explosive F strips from her jacket.
"You've hit the same point as