Back Distress
Chapters (38)
  1. Title Page
  2. Technolibération
  3. PART ONE
  4. Chapter 1
  5. Chapter 2
  6. Chapter 3
  7. Chapter 4
  8. Chapter 5
  9. Chapter 6
  10. Chapter 7
  11. Chapter 8
  12. PART TWO
  13. Chapter 9
  14. Chapter 10
  15. Chapter 11
  16. Chapter 12
  17. Chapter 13
  18. Chapter 14
  19. Chapter 15
  20. Chapter 16
  21. Chapter 17
  22. Chapter 18
  23. Chapter 19
  24. PART THREE
  25. Chapter 20
  26. Chapter 21
  27. Chapter 22
  28. Chapter 23
  29. Chapter 24
  30. Chapter 25
  31. Chapter 26
  32. Chapter 27
  33. Chapter 28
  34. PART FOUR
  35. Chapter 29
  36. Chapter 30
  37. Epilogue
  38. Author’s Note

Gina was up, dressed, and in the middle of breakfast. I hadn’t seen her since the same time the day before; it was as if I’d never left.

She said, “How was filming?” I’d sent her a message from the hospital, explaining that we’d finally got lucky .

“I don’t want to talk about it.” I retreated into the living room and sank into a chair. The action of sitting seemed to replay itself in my inner ears; I kept descending, again and again. I fixed my gaze on the pattern in the carpet; the illusion slowly faded.

“Andrew? What happened?” She followed me into the room. “Did something go wrong? Will you have to reshoot?”

“I said I don’t want to—” I caught myself. I looked up at her, and forced myself to concentrate. She was puzzled, but not yet angry. Rule number three: Tell her everything, however unpleasant, at the first opportunity. Whether you feel like it or not. Anything less will be treated as deliberate exclusion and taken as a personal affront.

I said, “I won’t have to reshoot. It’s over.” I recounted what had happened.

Gina looked ill. “And was anything he said worth … extracting? Did mentioning his brother make the slightest sense – or was he just brain-damaged and ranting?”

“That’s still not clear. Evidently the brother does have a history of violence; he was on probation for assaulting his mother. They’ve taken him in for questioning … but it could all come to nothing. If the victim’s short-term memories were lost, he could have pieced together a false reconstruction of the stabbing, using the first person who came to mind as being capable of the act. And when he changed his story he might not have been covering up at all; he might simply have realized that he was amnesic.”

Gina said, “And even if the brother did kill him … no jury is going to accept a couple of words, instantly retracted, as any kind of proof. If there’s a conviction, it will have nothing to do with the revival.”

It was difficult to argue the point; I had to struggle to regain some perspective.

“Not in this case, no. But there have been times when it’s made all the difference. The victim’s word alone might never stand up in court – but there’ve been people tried for murder who would never have been suspected otherwise. Cases when the evidence which actually convicted them was only pieced together because the revival testimony put the investigation on the right track.”

Gina was dismissive. “That may have happened once or twice – but it’s still not worth it. They should ban the whole procedure, it’s obscene.” She hesitated. “But you’re not going to use that footage, are you?”

“Of course I’m going to use it.”