Chapter 17

Susan told me she could give me the prosecutor's name, at least the one she'd dealt with. I told her no, don't bother. I wasn't even sure why I'd made such an issue of it with Brodine, other than to try to shake up his maddening bureaucratic complacency a little. I had no clout at all with the guy, whoever he was, he didn't know me from Adam's off ox and cared about me even less, if possible. There was no reason on God's green Earth he'd even give me the time of day, much less listen to my plea for him to make a public admission that the Feds had the flash drive. And from what she'd told me, there were all the reasons in the world that he wouldn't. To do so would expose the government to those demands from her Senator's lawyers for its return, which would shoot down their case completely.

No matter how you cut it, I was screwed. And it was in our fine government's interest that I stay screwed.

To say I was depressed about the whole thing is an understatement. And Susan being whisked away only added to my feelings. Unassisted there was absolutely zero chance I could trace her. She'd have yet another new name, another new life, she'd be far, far away, and Brodine and his people sure weren't going to give me diddly to help me.

When I started talking along those lines, though, Susan cut me off quick. "Larry, stop it right now," she said testily. "You know I won't let that happen. In time they'll bring me out of that coma and I'll wake up, and the first thing I'm going to demand is you. Either Jim will bring you to me or I'll contact you myself and tell you where and who and all. I told you that already."

It was a cheering thought, but I wasn't in the mood to be cheered. "Maybe," I said gloomily. "But I don't quite see how that's going to work."

"Sugar, what are you talking about?" she demanded.

"Look," I said, kind of piecing it together as I went. "The last thing that happened before you, uh, got hurt—"

"Before Walter the asshole ran me down, you mean," she interrupted.

"Yeah, before that. Well, the last thing that happened, with us I mean, is that you broke up with me, right? Because you didn't want me to find out, well, about Ariel and all. Remember all that?"

"Sure, honey," she said. "But we've been all through that already. I mean, haven't we? Are you having second thoughts or something?" Her voice was suddenly sounding anxious.

"No, no, no," I told her quickly. "That's not it at all. Don't you ever doubt even for a second how much I love you and how little I care about all that business that went on when you were somebody else and I didn't even know you. That's not what I'm saying at all."

"Then what—"

"Hear me out," I continued. "All this, me learning about Ariel and telling you it didn't make any difference to me, that happened after, right? I mean, it happened while you were with me this way, the way you are now, do you see?"

"Yeah, so?"

"So what if you don't remember any of it when you wake up, your body does?"

She didn't say anything.

"Your body comes awake again, and all you remember is what you thought back then, that you couldn't stand for me to find out about you. That's the only reality to you. So why would you want to get back in touch with me? Wouldn't you just keep on going like you planned when you walked out on me?"

"Larry, that's an awful thought!" she burst out. "Of course I'll remember. Why wouldn't I?"

"I don't know," I said. "But wait a minute, yeah, I do, sort of. Look here, I'm no expert on the brain or anything, but I do know about computers, you know?"