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me a wan smile. "No," she said. "I don't have a power like yours. You know, you're prettier in person."

I laughed. "Whoa, Non Sequitur Girl, er, Woman."

"I mean, I guess you're different than you looked on TV."

"You mean I'm not as fat now." I shoved the last of my clothes into my bag. "Yeah, I just bubbled the hell outta the test room. I'm leaving, and I don't want to be as recognizable when I head back to New York."

She shoved her hands into her pockets and looked unhappy. "I guess this means you're not going to spend any time with the other patients."

"I didn't know anyone wanted to see me," I said. "They've pretty much kept me in the dark about everything except for the whole, 'Let's see what we can throw at Bubbles this time.' "

Niobe looked even more morose at this. "Yeah," she said. "They treat us like rats in a cage."

"Look," I said. "I've got plenty of time before my flight - if they even have enough fuel to get off the runway today. Why don't I come and meet whomever you want me to meet?"

"You'd do that?" My God, her eyes were so sad.

"Sure, let me grab my things."

"Is it cool being a part of the Committee?" Niobe asked as we sped along the silent corridor in a BICC golf cart.

"I guess," I said. "I mean, it's great being a part of something that's supposed to be doing good, but sometimes . . . sometimes it's hard."

There was a faint whiff of burning flesh. I glanced around, but there was nothing but smooth, unblemished wall flashing by.

"But you get to do a lot of other cool things, too."

"True. I got to go to the Academy Awards and the VMAs, and they had a parade for us at Disneyland after that mess in Egypt. So that was okay. But doing press junkets, not so great."

The cart slowed as Niobe lifted her foot from the pedal and looked at me. "But isn't it fun having them ask you questions and then they actually pay attention to you?"

"Yeah . . . not so much," I replied. "When we got back from Egypt they sent us out on a goodwill tour. It was pretty hellish. Not because of the people who wanted to meet us - they were almost always cool." Except for the woman who threw pig's blood on me and called me a murderer, I thought. "But that press stuff is less than thrilling. Trust me, no fun at all."

We sped up. "Oh," Niobe said. "I just thought that after American Hero and being on the Committee that your life would be, you know, perfect."

"I don't think life's ever perfect."

"It was pretty perfect when Tiffani got knocked off AH." She gave me a sly smile.

I smiled back. "Yeah, that was kinda perfect."

"Have you seen any of the promos for the new season of AH?" Niobe asked. She sounded excited.

"Yeah," I said. "They wanted me to do some teasers, but I was out of the country when they were shooting."

"What do you think of the new aces?"

"I think they have no idea what they're getting themselves into."

Being an ace, sometimes you forget that other people who get the virus aren't so fortunate. Everyone knows that the virus kills, but people forget that it also maims.

Niobe led me through a pair of swinging doors into the children's ward. There were bright mobiles, stuffed animals, and posters on the walls. Some of the girls had wrapped their IV stands in beads and Mylar stickers. At least I think they were girls. This was the place where they put the sickest kids - the ones the wild card virus had not transformed, but had crippled.

"We have a special guest today," Niobe said. "She was a contestant on American Hero and she's now a member of the Committee: the Amazing Bubbles!"

There wasn't thunderous applause, but I hadn't expected any. I'd done my share of hospital appearances in the last year. From Walter Reed to Beth Israel they were mostly the same - sick people who just wanted anything normal in their lives again. Even seeing an ace in person seemed normal. After all, I'd been on the TV in their living rooms.

Niobe led me to bed after bed. In one, a boy lay wrapped in a plaid robe. He was indigo. He looked like Violet Beauregarde after that unfortunate gum incident. We passed another bed where a child floated above the covers