“Don’t be ridiculous,” she retorted. “He’s my grandfather. I have to go too. If there’s a chance that he’s alive, I need to be there.”

The shuttle started to move. “No, your going there really is too risky.”

“Creighton, I can take care of myself. You don’t understand how important this is.”

I shook my head. “Your ability to care for yourself is not the point. That hospital is a place someone might expect you to show up. It’s safer if I go. If they need verification that I’m representing you, I can tap you at Lauren’s place.”

She glared at me. “I think I should be the judge of what’s too risky for me.”

“I don’t,” I said sternly. “If this were the jungle, fine, I’d let you make the call. But this is my territory, and you’ve already been shot once. You’re going to have to trust me.”

She turned to the window. “We’ll see.”

We rode back to DC in silence.

Abby went to bed early. Lack of food had given her a headache. I offered her some medication, hoping she would drink something—anything. She refused. I said good night and went downstairs.

I lay on the couch in Lauren’s spacious living room, frustrated at the ill temper I was experiencing toward even the concept of a deity. I found it hard to believe that any deity would ask people to go without food or water. What was next—air?

I must have fallen asleep. When I awoke, I had a message from Sabin. I accessed it; he looked serious.

“Creighton, I took a look at the file you sent me. I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but it’s a fake. A very good fake—they knew what they were doing. But it was made from a previous recording of your father.” He paused. “I’m not sure what else to tell you. Tap me if you need more.”

The news didn’t surprise me. Deep down I couldn’t imagine that my father had committed suicide. Evidently, he hadn’t. I didn’t feel grief. I felt numb. What had we stumbled into? Whatever it was, my father had been murdered for it.

I lay on the couch for a long while. I didn’t want to think anymore. I was tired of thinking. I considered distracting myself with VR entertainment. Spending an hour or two at night in VR had been my greatest weakness since my teen years. What might I have accomplished had I not wasted thousands of hours in meaningless pursuits?

I went upstairs and crawled into bed. I looked at the empty pillow next to me. Before sleeping, I usually went into VR and filled that space with someone—often someone I knew. People re-created real people in VR all the time to have sex with or just to be with.