Strangers

his ordeal with the press and politicians, Jack made plans for the future. There were two primary tasks ahead of him: First, he would kill Norman Hazzurt in such a way as to avoid any suspicion falling upon himself; second, he would get enough money to move Jenny to a private sanitarium, though the only way to obtain so much cash in a hurry was to steal it. As an elite Ranger, he was trained in most weapons, explosives, martial arts, and survival techniques. His society had failed him, but it had also provided him with the knowledge and the means by which he could extract his revenge, and it had taught him how to break whatever laws stood in his way without punishment.
        Norman Hazzurt died in an "accidental" gas explosion two months after Jack returned to the States. And two weeks later, Jenny's transference to a private sanitarium was financed by the proceeds from an ingenious bank robbery executed with military precision.
        The murder of Hazzurt did not satisfy Jack. In fact, it depressed him. Killing in a war was different from killing in civilian life. He did not have the detachment to kill except in self-defense.
        Robbery, however, was enormously appealing. After the successful bank job, he'd been excited, exalted, exhilarated. Daring robbery had a medicinal quality. Crime gave him a reason to live. Until recently.
        Now, sitting at Jenny's bedside, Jack Twist wondered what would keep him going, day after day, if not grand larceny. The only other thing he had was Jenny. However, he no longer needed to provide for her; he had already piled up more than enough money for that. So his only reason for living was to come here several times a week, look upon her serene face, hold her hand - and pray for a miracle.
        It was ironic that a man like him - a hard-headed, self-reliant individualist - should have no hope but mysticism.
        As he brooded on that, he heard Jenny make a soft gurgling sound. She took two quick, deep breaths and produced a long, rattling sigh. For one crazy moment as he rose from his chair, Jack half-expected to find her eyes open, filled with awareness for the first time in more than eight years, the miracle having come to pass even as he had been day-dreaming of it. But her eyes were closed, and her face was slack. He put a hand against her face, then moved it to her throat. He felt for her pulse. What had happened was not, in fact, miraculous but anti-miraculous, mundane, and inevitable: Jenny Twist had died.
        
        Chicago, Illinois.
        Few physicians were on duty at St. Joseph's that Christmas, but a resident named Jarvil and an intern named Klinet were eager to talk to Father Wycazik about Emmeline Halbourg's amazing recovery.
        Klinet, an intense wiry-haired young man, escorted Stefan to a consultation room to review Emmy's file and X rays. "Five weeks ago, she was started on namiloxiprine - a new drug, just approved by the FDA."
        Dr. Jarvil, the resident, was soft-spoken, with heavy-lidded eyes, but when he joined them in the consultation room, he too was visibly excited by Emmeline Halbourg's dramatic turn for the better.
        "Namiloxiprine has several effects in bone diseases like Emmy's," Jarvil said. "In many instances it puts a stop to the destruction of the periosteum, promotes the growth of healthy osteocytes, and somewhat induces the accumulation of intercellular calcium. And in a case like Emmy's, where the bone marrow is the primary target of the disease, namiloxiprine creates an unusual chemical environment in the marrow cavity and in the haversian canals, an environment that's extremely hostile to microorganisms but actually encourages the growth of marrow cells, the production of blood cells, and hemoglobin formation."
        "But it's not supposed to work this fast," Klinet said.
        "And it's basically a stop-loss drug," Jarvil said. "It can arrest the progress of a disease, put a stop to bone deterioration. But it doesn't make regeneration possible. Sure, it's supposed to promote some reconstruction, but not the kind of rebuilding we're seeing in Emmy."
        "Fast rebuilding," Klinet said, smacking his forehead with the heel of his hand, as if to knock this amazing fact into his unwilling brain.
        They showed Stefan a series of X rays taken over the past six weeks, in which the changes in Emmy's bones and joints were obvious.
        Klinet said, "She'd been on namiloxiprine