“No one has the power to bring back the dead beyond an hour; not and have it still be Lin inhabiting the body.”Myllyn nodded. For a while, he just...sat there, tears streaming down his face. Gillen wanted to cry, too. Lin. Bouf. It was such a waste – and it was all her fault. She knew trouble was coming; she’d sensed it. If she had sent two scouts instead of one. If she’d been faster, come to Lin’s aid, she might have forestalled this death.“She has an eight-year-old son,” Myllyn said softly, his. When David came home at five-fifty she was still lying on the bed sobbing.David did what he always did— stepped into the downstairs wet room, hung up his very business-like suit and tie, threw the shirt in his the laundry basket, showered briefly, dried himself, put on his jeans and a clean T-shirt, and strolled into the living room to make himself a drink.It took David less than a minute to work out what was happening. The envelope with the script was still on the table, no CD in sight, so. More

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