It was important to think of loved ones at times like this so she tried to think of some. But it was hard to think of them as loved ones when they’d burnt you and melted you up.

She’d kept quiet though. Beth never squealed. Although she screamed a bit.

She thought of Michael. Michael hadn’t seen the scars, or pretended not to, but then he’d only seen me. He’d just been looking at genes or something, and not her.

251

“Perhaps Dr. Frankburg could talk her down,” said Tamy.

Penny gave her a stare. Tamy was allowed to go live only in exceptional circumstances.

“I couldn’t absolutely guarantee . . .” said Ali.

“I think we have to go to the news,” said Penny anxiously.

“This could be the fucking news,” said Ali.

Penny looked over at Tamy. Did she bleep that out? That could get her fined.

250

Did Activist 345 say “fucking”? Edward the Fireman wished he was taping the program. The hefty dose of lidocaine had frozen his entire left side. It made him walk very strangely but he was making good progress now.

249

“What’s your friend’s name, John?” said Ali.

“It’s Beth.”

“Okay. I’m . . . I’m going to get you to ask her a series of questions. Okay?”

“Hang on,” said John. “I don’t think she can hear me.”

“Can you put her on the line?”

[muffled: “Beth, do you want to talk to the radio?”]

Pause.

“She didn’t answer me,” said John.

“Just give her the phone then. Can you do that?”

[muffled: “I’m going to give you this phone, Beth. Okay?”]

248

Rustling. Sound of the wind blowing. Traffic noises.

Penny filled. “Of course the Brooklyn Bridge was first opened to traffic in eighteen eighty-five and is approximately sixteen hundred feet long . . . um . . . As far as I can remember the bridge is painted in Rawlins Red, which is manufactured, I believe, in Rawlins, Wyoming, although to me it’s always been a sort of beige color . . .”

247

“Hello?”

“Am I speaking to Beth?”

“Yes.”

“This is Dr. Frankburg,” said Ali.

246

There was my sister on the airwaves. Like a voice in a photo. I held up the radio to my two comrades behind the cargo crates.

“My sister,” I mouthed at them. They motioned for me to turn the thing off, someone would hear.

I hadn’t heard her voice for over twenty years. Strange to hear it now. I wondered if our voices sounded similar. I thought she must have chosen to come to New York for a reason. I mean, of all the destinations in the world. Kind of prodigal. Properly prodigal too. The Romans called victims wholly consumed by fire prodigae hostiae. A lot of the school’s Latin textbooks perished. I hope Beth got a chance to read them before they went up.