I ate the soup and asked for more. A doctor came and peeled back my bandages, did a double-take, and rushed away. I looked. The skin was new and pink, like a baby's—but it was all there. I flexed my right leg; there was no twinge of pain.
I listened for a while as the doctors gabbled, clucked, probed and made pronouncements. Then I closed my eyes again. I thought about the matter transmitter. The government was sitting on it, of course. A military secret of the greatest importance, Titus called it. Maybe someday the public would hear about it; in the meantime—
"How about letting me out of here?" I said suddenly. A pop-eyed doctor with a fringe of gray hair blinked at me, went back to fingering my arm. Kayle hove into view.
"I want out," I said. "I'm recovered, right? So now just give me my clothes."
"Now, now, just relax, Granthan. You know it's not as simple as that. There are a lot of matters we must go over."
"The war's over," I said. "You admitted that. I want out."
"Sorry." Kayle shook his head. "That's out of the question."
"Doc," I said. "Am I well?"
"Yes," he said. "Amazing case. You're as fit as you'll ever be; I've never—"
"I'm afraid you'll have to resign yourself to being here for a while longer, Granthan," Kayle said. "After all, we can't—"