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Holly was puzzled. “And who might that be?”

Lance picked up a sheet of paper and looked at it. “One Joshua Harmon, M.D. He’s applied to the medical division as a surgeon and emergency physician.”

“Yes, I know him.”

“Do you recommend him?”

“Yes, unreservedly.”

“I’ll note that on his application.”

“Will he be hired?”

“With your recommendation, I should think so, unless his background check turns up something that contradicts your opinion. He’s already passed the basic computer check; the interviews of his friends and past employers are being conducted now.”

“When did he apply?” Holly asked.

“Ten days ago,” Lance replied. “What is your connection with him?”

“Purely social.”

“Is he the lump I saw in your bed once, when I phoned you?”

“Goodbye, Lance,” Holly said, then hung up. Lance’s face disappeared from the screen.

That night Holly and Josh went to dinner at the Yellow Dog Café, up near Melbourne. They got drinks and then ordered.

“How was your day?” Josh asked.

“Passable,” she replied. “And yours?”

“Fairly dreary. Setting a femur broken in a skateboarding accident was the highlight of my day.”

“That must mean that most of this part of the world is healthy, then.”

“I suppose.”

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“Tell me, Josh, are you happy in your work?”

“I’m bored with it,” Josh replied.

“Were you thinking of changing your employment?”

“Well, I’ve been here over four years, and a change would be…” He stopped talking and looked at her. “You know,” he said.

“I’m CIA,” Holly replied. “I know everything.”

“I shouldn’t have given you as a reference,” he said.

“I’m glad you did.”

“I was going to surprise you.”

“You did.”

“Pleasantly, I hope.”

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