He’s working for the government. I’m certain they are keeping him closely guarded. Unless I miss my guess, at the moment, Kazimi is hard at work in some secret lab. And he’s failing, just as our friend Puchalsky is failing. But you and I, Lou, we’re going to succeed. I can develop the treatment that will save Cap Duncan’s life and the lives of anybody infected with this Doomsday Germ. But I can’t do it without your help.

“My help?”

Humphrey gestured to himself.

“Look at me, Lou,” he said, eschewing his shorthand speech for emphasis. “I have aides to help me get dressed, eat my meals, and go to the bathroom. I can’t even unpack these boxes let alone set up a lab or get any significant work done in it.”

He sank back, gasping for breath, utterly spent.

“But you do your job here at Arbor General, and do it well from all I can tell.”

“Thank God for Bat-chair, and Americans with Disabilities Act, and all who load and unload my med cart.”

Lou was unable to get a total read on Humphrey’s emotions, but the bitterness was clear.

“Where did you get all this equipment, anyway?” he said, angling to lessen the tension.

“Stockpiling for a while. Inefficient purchase order system here.”

“Humphrey, that’s like grand theft.”

Again, a laugh.

It’s not theft when everything purchased is still here in the hospital. Besides, the end will justify the means. I’m sure of it. If you don’t help me, Lou, you’ll be leaving the fate of your friend to Puchalsky or Kazimi or maybe others. All will fail. I promise you that. I also promise you that there is a terrorist attack happening right now, right under our noses, and I am the only person who can stop it. Will you help me?

Lou was pacing now among the cartons. He wasn’t concerned about the criminality of what Humphrey had done—he had crossed that line in the past and if he had to, he would cross it again. No, his concern was more about Humphrey Miller, himself—whether, in fact, he was something of a misguided megalomaniac, driven by the anguish and frustration over his profound disability, layered on what was undeniable, but vastly underappreciated, genius.

“Why not do this aboveboard?” Lou asked. “Tell someone what you know.”

I tried telling Kazimi, and look what it got me. Lou, nobody will find out about this lab, if that’s what you’re worried about. Hardly anyone ever comes down to this floor, and when they do, they never have any reason to look in here. In fact, their keys won’t even work. My engineer friend and I have seen to that. Maintenance will give up long before they go running around looking for an explanation or a solution.

“I need some time,” Lou said, turning his back.