Thomas had shrugged, flashed his son and his friend a dopey guilty-as-charged smile. 'I had KFC for lunch.'

After putting down the kids—or the little Gideons as Neil liked to call them—Thomas had found Neil checking out the books on the living room shelves. The overhead lights glared, making a ghost of Marilyn and her naked breast-stroke across his chest.

Thomas nodded at the shirt. 'Kind of sexist, don't you think?'

Neil turned and tilted his head, his trademark one-shoulder shrug. 'So is biology.'

Thomas made a face.

'Where's your book?' Neil asked, running his eyes across the landscape of titled spines. Some of them were beaten and battered, others shiny new.

Thomas grimaced the way he always did when his book was mentioned. 'In the basement with the others.'

Neil smiled. 'Been demoted, huh?'

Thomas returned to the couch, eyed the full shots of whiskey Neil had poured, decided to take a swig of beer instead.

'So what's up, Neil? How are things at Bethesda?'

As much as he loved the guy, it irritated Thomas the way he always had to press him for the details of his life. It seemed part and parcel of a more sweeping inequity that haunted their relationship. Neil had always been elusive, but not in a secretive or suspicious way. It was more aristocratic, as if something in his bloodline exempted him from full disclosure.

Neil turned from the shelves. His face looked pale and blank in the lights. 'Actually, there's nothing at Bethesda.'

Thomas cocked his head, not quite sure whether to believe him. 'You quit? Neil, you should've—'

'I didn't quit.'

'You were fired?'

'I never worked there, Goodbook.' He paused as though out of breath. 'Bethesda was, ah… Jesus, I don't know how to say it without sounding cheesy. Bethesda was, well… just a cover.'

Thomas scowled. 'Now you're screwing with me.'

Neil shook his head, laughing. He held out both hands, like a prophet or a politician or something. 'No. I'm serious. I've never even set foot in Bethesda.'

'But then…'

'What have I been doing?'

Thomas stood blinking. 'Are you kidding me? All this time you've been lying about where you worked? Neil…'

'It's not like that, Goodbook. It's not like that at all. Lying about Bethesda was part of my job.'

'Part of your job?'

'I was working for the Man. For the NSA. When they tell you to lie, you lie, no matter who it is, and God help you if you don't.'

'The NSA?'

More laughter. 'Unfuckingbelievable, huh? I was a spy, Goodbook. A fucking science spook! Reverse-engineering God's own technology!'