We cruised for a time, but McKesson’s watch ticked away normally, showing the proper time rather than indicating a new rip in space. Deciding to call it a night, I talked McKesson into dropping me off on the Strip. It was getting late, but I knew I wouldn’t sleep for hours. I thought about visiting Holly and Jenna, but I figured they were probably safer on their own than hanging around with me and my load of objects. Besides, I wasn’t quite sure what to do next.
The gaudy lights were still on, but the Strip was relatively quiet. During the day, all six lanes were buzzing with tourists. After 2:00 a.m., the sparse traffic consisted largely of cabs and cop cars. Walking north, I passed the Miracle Mile shopping mall and continued on to the mini Eiffel Tower, where construction projects were underway. They always seemed to be building something new along the Strip. Besides the cabs, tourists, and cops, there was a significant population of…unusual people. I passed a man wearing a well-used backpack. He had a bushman’s beard that was shot with gray-white stripes. His glasses were shaded green, but appeared to be prescription. Despite the cool night sky, his face was leathery from a thousand sunburns and he wore a cap with a visor like a duck’s bill. Like so many before him, he sized me up as I approached the lamppost where he’d stationed himself. I could almost see the gears working. I looked like I had more money than he did, but he could tell I wasn’t likely to give it to him. Out of habit or sheer stubbornness, he tried to talk to me. The unintelligible words came out as a wheeze.
“No money,” I said.
He shook his head, indicating that wasn’t what he was asking for. I had no idea what was on his mind, but I stopped and rummaged in my pockets. I found McKesson’s cigarette pack and lighter. I must have shoved them away automatically. I wasn’t sure if I was a smoker or not, but either way I didn’t want to try one. I might be kick-starting a dead habit. I handed them over.
They were received with an appreciative cough. “Thanks, buddy,” I heard.
I kept walking. A cluster of businessmen approached next. Their conversation was loud and alcohol-fueled, punctuated by laughter. I thought to myself that here, at least, were some people enjoying themselves. When we drew close and passed by, my one body to their four, they stepped aside and quieted. They gave me as much space on the sidewalk as they could.
Why was that? I asked myself. How did they know I was different? What instinct or facial expression had tipped them off? Sure, I had a gun in my pocket that probably still stank of gunpowder from being recently fired. But they had no way of knowing that. I wore fresh clothes, including a hoodie, but I wasn’t bug-eyed and scowling. Still, they somehow knew to be wary.
The encounter disturbed me more than others I’d had because I’d already begun to suspect I was a walking disaster. The more I learned of my life, past and present, the more it involved danger for anyone who came near.
What had Rostok said about my past? To work with what I had. That meant the photo, I’d supposed at first. I had studied it, and come up blank. There was no date on the back. The picture looked new, even though it had obviously been taken many years earlier. I suspected that was due to the fact that it was an object. If they couldn’t be burned, they were probably immune to the effects of time as well.
What else had he said? He’d asked me about my earliest memories. He seemed unsurprised I’d lost my memory. There were no questions about that. Was amnesia so common a thing that it would go unremarked upon? I didn’t think it was. Where did that leave me? I thought hard for a while, and there was only one person I could come up with: Dr. Meng. She’d let me go and asked me to keep doing what I was doing, to get at the bottom of the deaths. I certainly hadn’t found many answers, but I knew enough to make a report. I decided I would return to the sanatorium in the morning and talk to Meng again. Maybe, with the new information I had, she could fit more pieces into this puzzle, and we could help each other.