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." (It worried me. I've seen 'em go in for surgery, right out of the
scrum... and come out of hospital physically perfect... but hooked on
painkiller. Morphine, De-merol, sans-souci, methadone, whatever.)
"Dear one, you weren't kept knocked out."
"Play back?"
"A 'Lethe' field the whole time-no drugs. Lethe lets the patient stay alert
and cooperative... but pain is forgotten as soon as it happens. Or anything. You
did hurt, dear, but each pain was a separate event, forgotten at once. You never
had to endure that overpowering fatigue that comes from unending pain. And now
you don't have a hangover and the need to wash weeks and weeks of addictive
drugs out of your system." She smiled at me. "You weren't much company, dear,
because a man who can't remember what happened two seconds ago does not carry on
a coherent conversation. But you did seem to enjoy listening to music. And you
ate all right as long as someone fed you."
"You fed me." "No. I did not interfere with the professionals." My cane had
slipped to the grass; Hazel leaned down, handed it to me.
"By the way, I reloaded your cane."
'Thank you. Hey! It was loaded. Fully."
"It was loaded when they jumped us-and a good thing, too. Or I would be
dead. You, too, I think. Me for certain, though."
We spent the next ten minutes confusing each other. I've already recounted
how that fight outside the Raffles Hotel looked to me
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