“The Pentagon initiated a fifty-million-dollar effort to develop what they call ‘Human ID at a Distance.’ In theory, they use these digitized databases to protect government installations from terrorists. As a practical matter, they could use them to track the movements of anyone they want. The reality is, Ben, that each new boost in computer memory has proportionately diminished American privacy. The more the government improves its holographic storage capacities, the better they can coordinate their various means of collecting intelligence on private citizens. A recent Wisconsin report discovered more than two thousand databases recording information on private citizens-in Wisconsin. Imagine how many there must be at the federal level, or nationwide. Soon they’ll be able to find out virtually anything they want about anyone they want anytime they want.”
“Well…if you haven’t done anything wrong, why do you care who’s watching?”
“Yeah, that’s what Hitler said when he started rolling back the rights of his citizens in 1933. And pretty soon, they had no rights at all.”
“I know there are congressional oversight committees monitoring NSA activities.”
“And yet, look what happens. People in government will always grasp for more power, Ben. And sometimes, even with the Bill of Rights in place, our rights will be violated. But at least with the Bill of Rights, American citizens have some means of recourse. They can go to the press. They can go to court. If you take that away, there will be no way of stopping these invasions of our constitutional rights-at a time when the government has greater capacity to invade those rights than it has ever had in the history of this nation.”
“And our enemies have a greater capacity to destroy than they have ever had before.”
Christina laid her hands flat on his desk. She slid one more slim stapled packet of paper across to Ben. “This is a Supreme Court opinion in the case that ruled that police couldn’t use thermal imaging to observe the heat signatures of people inside their homes without a warrant. This was written by Justice Scalia-probably the most conservative Supreme on the bench. And yet even though the Constitution obviously doesn’t say anything about thermal imaging, he wrote that it was an unconstitutional invasion of privacy. See the part I underlined? He said the use of this technology”-she traced her fingers along the words for Ben as she read-“‘would leave the homeowner at the mercy of advancing technology.’ Toward the end, he says that in the home, ‘all details are intimate details, because the entire area is held safe from prying government eyes.’”
Ben pushed himself away from his desk-and from her. He was getting upset. He needed distance. “I hear what you’re saying, Christina. And I agree, to some extent. But there are other issues that have to be considered.”
“What you need to understand, Ben, is that this is important-maybe critical to determining what kind of country this is going to be in the future. A future that seems to be increasingly resting upon your scrawny shoulders.”
“What you need to understand-” He realized he had snapped and stopped himself. What’s happening? He wasn’t sure he had ever shouted at Christina-certainly not since they had been married. “What you need to understand, Christina, is that…this is a very hard thing for me. And I need some…time. To process information. To think about what I’ve been told. To listen.”
“Don’t just listen to those bozos at the White House,” Christina said, matching his tone, “or even just to me. Listen to your heart.”
“Christina…”
She laid her hand softly on his cheek. “You have a good heart, Ben. I know you do. That’s why I married you. And that’s why, ultimately, I know you’ll do the right thing.” She paused a moment, and Ben could see that her lovely blue eyes were beginning to water. “I’ll see you at home. I hope.”
She turned and quietly left the office.
The clock on the office wall told Ben it was half an hour till midnight. Tracy Sobel would be waiting for his call. And he still didn’t know what to tell her.
What a night. He’d been thinking so much, so hard, his head throbbed. He needed some relief. He opened the bottom drawer of his desk, removed a flask, and chugged.
Ahh. The cool liquid felt good going down. The calm it induced, however artificial, spread through his body like a flannel blanket.
Amazing what a thermos of chocolate milk could do for a man.
He dialed the number just as he had done so many times before this week. He knew it by heart now.
“Hello, this is Senator Ben Kincaid and I was-”
“I’m afraid there’s been no change, sir.” The attending nurse, who by this time knew Ben quite well, understood why he was calling. “The night doc making rounds just checked him a few minutes ago. He hasn’t come out of the coma. His respiratory system has stabilized somewhat, but not enough to move him out of ICU.”
“Still…stabilized… That sounds good.”
“I hope so, sir.”
“That means he’ll recover, eventually.”
A long pause. “We just don’t know yet, sir.”
Ben had heard it many times before. No matter how hard he pressed, they weren’t going to give him any false hope. As long as his future remained uncertain, the prognosis would be equally discouraging.
“Is Sergeant Baxter still with him?”
“Night and day. I understand she’s taken an authorized leave of absence from work so she can be here.”
“She still reading to him?”
There was a moment of silence. “Yes…”
“Got sick of the poetry, didn’t she?”
“My understanding is that she’s now reading him something by Mickey Spillane.”
“Well, he’ll like that, too.”
If he can hear it, Ben thought, as he hung up the receiver. If he can hear it.
When the phone rang, Ben practically jumped out of his chair. Good grief-had he fallen asleep? What a stupid thing to do, when so many people were waiting to hear from him. This would be Tracy Sobel, pressing him for an answer. Or perhaps Christina, wanting to know if and when he was coming home.
He punched the appropriate red button and picked up the phone. “Hello?”
“Ben, is that you?”
Ben felt a sudden clutching at his chest. He didn’t need help recognizing that voice, even if he hadn’t heard it for years. He’d grown up hearing it.
“Ben? It’s Julia.”
Which he already knew. His sister, so long gone. After all these years.
“Ben, you don’t know how hard it was to get through to you. I had to pass through like a thousand security clearances and operators. No one would believe I was your sister. They said they’d never heard anything about Senator Kincaid having a sister.”
And for a reason. For all intents and purposes, he didn’t.
“I can’t believe I just said that. Senator Kincaid? How the hell did that happen?”
“It’s a long story…”
“I remember when you were so shy, you couldn’t speak aloud in class without stuttering. And now you’re this big-shot attorney. And a U.S. senator!”
“Life is a funny thing.”
“I guess. It’s been pretty funny for me, too.”
After so much time, he hardly knew which question to go with first. “How’s Joey?” he asked, referring to her son, his nephew, who he had helped raise for a time.
“Oh, gosh. More than I can handle. And he’s ruining my chances with this cute guy. He’s nice, but the thought of linking up with someone with a child terrifies him.”
“So you’re not still-that doctor-”
“That ended a long time ago. He said he wanted to help raise Joey. That’s why I took him back, remember? But it turns out…well, we think Joey has some special problems. He’s not doing well in school. He may have Asperger’s, or something in the autistic spectrum. He may be dyslexic and dysgraphic. Some mornings, I just think…” Her voice drifted. “But this isn’t why I called. I heard that Mike got hurt! In that horrible attack on the president in Oklahoma City?”
