The Reviver (34 page)

Jonah stared at him. ‘No.’

‘We were only beginning to understand the potential of forensic revival. We
had
to investigate how to deal with hostile subjects. Some of it fed back into current FRS training.
Your
training. If I’d thought for a moment that it would go so far…’

Jonah looked at Sam, then back at the documents in his hand, wondering what he was feeling, then understanding it:
betrayal.
‘Not you, Sam. God, not you.’ He stood.

Sam stood too, and put his hand out to Jonah’s arm. ‘Please, Jonah…’

Jonah flinched from the touch as he would from chill. Unable to speak, all he could do was shake his head. Then he walked out.

*   *   *

Annabel stood, wanting to go after Jonah but resisting. She turned to Sam. ‘Are you sure about using the documents, Dr Deering? You could take the brunt of this, whatever we do.’

Sam shook his head. He looked exhausted. ‘I deserve my share. It’s taken me a long time to do what was right, Annabel. I hope he understands, one day.’

Annabel left, finding Jonah in his car with the engine running. When he saw her, he angrily folded Sam’s documents and put them in his pocket. She got in the passenger seat, still holding the first page Sam had given them.

‘Jonah,’ she said. ‘When we go public with this—’

Jonah snatched the page from her hand, leaving her openmouthed. He crunched it up and put it in his pocket with the rest of the pages. ‘We can’t use those documents, Annabel. If we make it public, it’ll drag revival down with it.’

They drove in uneasy silence back to Jonah’s apartment block. He got out and went around to open her door, solemn-faced and avoiding eye contact. ‘Your car’s just up there,’ he said, pointing to where Annabel had left it earlier.

‘Jonah,’ she said, getting out, ‘this is evidence of something that has to be brought into the open. Something that has to be stopped. What are you going to do with the documents?’

He walked over to the entry door to his apartment block and put his key in the door, not looking at her. ‘Burn them. There are things in there people can’t be allowed to know.’

‘You
can’t,
’ she said. ‘This isn’t something we can just let slide, this is
important.
’

‘If people started using this kind of technique as part of normal procedure…’

‘Christ, Jonah.
Nobody
would allow that to happen.’

He looked at her. ‘Annabel, ten months ago I revived a woman who’d been raped and murdered, her body set alight, burned almost to the point where revival would have been impossible. We handled it at the scene, non-vocal. I got her back, but she was just screaming in my head, terrified. Nothing I did would have calmed her. The investigating officer wanted me to continue, until either I got her to talk or we ran out of time. But I let her go. I faced an official complaint as a result. It wasn’t upheld, but one member of the complaint panel found against me. They thought it was my duty to get testimony whatever the cost to the woman.
Whatever
the cost. That kind of thing has happened before, and it’ll happen again. I don’t want what’s in those documents to be an option for people like that. I don’t want it to be part of what I do.’ He turned back and opened the door.

‘You have to believe people are better than that, Jonah.’

He paused. ‘I want to, Annabel,’ he said, still facing the open doorway. ‘But I don’t think they are.’ He went inside and closed the door behind him.

After a minute, Annabel went to the door and stood, wondering if she should try to talk to Jonah now. Make him see sense before he did anything rash. It was important to the story.

She reached out to his apartment buzzer but pulled her hand back before she pressed it. The story wasn’t the only thing making her want to speak to him, she realized. He was upset, and she wanted to change that, to clear the air between them.

You have to believe people are better than that, Jonah.

I want to, Annabel. But I don’t think they are.
She wondered if his response had been partly aimed at her, if the plan to keep Jonah at arm’s length had worked too well. She thought of the look in his eyes when she’d boasted of using him to see Andreas. The memory made her stomach knot.

That was the problem. The plan may have worked on Jonah, but it didn’t seem to have worked on
her.

She walked to her car and left.

26

He told Never everything. Almost.

When he’d called Never the day after seeing Sam, Never had clearly been anxious to know what had been going on. He arrived at Jonah’s apartment so soon it was like he’d teleported there, eager for the explanations Jonah had promised.

Those explanations left out the awkward detail of Daniel Harker’s remnant, of course. If Never knew about that, Jonah feared it would be impossible to stop him from telling Graves or Hugo; at the very least he would put pressure on Jonah to do so. Instead, Jonah said that Annabel had sought his help, hoping Never wouldn’t question the lie.

Jonah gave him Annabel’s original folder of documents, Never wincing as he went through the photographs from the scene of the inferno.

‘Shit,’ Never said. ‘Did they ever unpick which lump of charcoal was which?’

‘I don’t know. Yarrow and Peter Welsh – the one Harker called Ginger – were the only two I know they had for sure. They still haven’t gone public, even now, so maybe they haven’t sorted it out yet. I can’t help but think of their friends and family. Hannerman had a sister. He was her only living relative, and he died like that. In agony. In disgrace.’

Jonah told him about Vernet and about Eldridge; abridged versions, glossing over the deep fear that had nestled in the pit of Jonah’s stomach at the time.
Something long dead. Something not human.

Finally, he reached Andreas and Sam, seeing Never’s face fall as Jonah told him the truth that the ghost story was intended to distract from.

‘I need a drink,’ said Never, and beer was duly provided.

‘What do you think?’ Jonah asked.

‘I can’t believe it’s been kept quiet so long.’

‘That’s it?’

‘You want me to say how outraged I am? Well, damn yes. Of course I am. But face it – are you surprised the military would do shit like this? That they’d plumb every depth possible, in the blink of an eye? There’s a saying that for good people to do evil things, it takes religion. But I reckon national security does the job just as well.’

‘Not just the military, Never. If this idea was out there, don’t you think the FRS would be under pressure to use it?’

‘You don’t really think that’s possible, though? Do you?’

‘From what I read, it didn’t even sound difficult. I think most revivers could do it. And there’s bound to be someone who thinks it’s a great idea.’

‘Jonah, there’ll always be fuckwits with terrible plans, but I can’t believe it’d be tolerated.’

They sat and drank their beers in silence for several minutes, Never finally breaking it.

‘You know what else I can’t believe? Annabel Harker. I mean, Annabel
Harker
?’ He paused, looking at Jonah.

Jonah stared back, thinking his lie – about Annabel having come to him – had failed to convince; that he would have no option but to reveal the truth about Daniel’s remnant. ‘What about her?’

‘Is that even legal?’

Jonah closed his eyes and shook his head. ‘Jesus Christ, Never. It’s not like that.’

‘A little out of your comfort zone, but that’s not a bad thing.’ He lowered his voice. ‘She likes you. I can tell, because she spoke to you more than once. Well, that’s the rule I’ve always gone by.’ He grinned, then dropped it when he saw Jonah’s expression. ‘OK, sorry. Just trying to lighten the mood.’

‘But what about
Sam,
Never? Aren’t you angry with him?’

‘Sam’s a good man,’ Never said, soft but serious. Jonah tilted his head, about to interrupt, but Never held up his hand. ‘Hear me out. Sam’s a good man. You know it. Things were different back then. Some of what he did was for good reasons. And the rest? He’s ashamed of it. You can’t ask any more of him, Jonah.’

Jonah hung his head. What good were heroes if you couldn’t look up to them?

*   *   *

With Friday’s symposium only a few days away. Jonah struggled more and more with the talk he was due to present, unsure if he could go ahead with it. Respect for the dead. He was going to stand before an audience and tell them that for a reviver, respecting the subject was paramount. Whatever your feelings for the subject, and for what they may have done, the subject had to have the benefit of the doubt. Those who claimed that an aggressive revival worked were just
wrong.
He had collected figures that helped demonstrate his point.

Aggression. Disdain. These made revivals less successful.

Honesty. Respect. These made revivals more successful.

Jonah hadn’t found any cases where aggressive revival had led to a result he thought couldn’t have been achieved or exceeded with a respectful approach.

Aggressive revival didn’t work. That was what he would stand up and say.

What a joke.

No,
he told himself. The figures were genuine. It was a worthy hope that people like Shepperton would see the numbers and change their methods. Aggression was inferior.

If aggression was as far as it went.

But take it further, like Kendrick, and you discover that there comes a point where respectful questioning cannot compete. That you can rip the truth from the heart of your subject, regardless of the morality. But it takes more than aggression. It takes terror.

Respect on one side. Terror on the other. And he had used them both.

So, he chipped away at the task at hand, improving the speech without enthusiasm.

Jonah’s interim appraisals by Jennifer Early had come and gone. It wouldn’t be until after his next session with Stephanie Graves that he could be given any idea of when he’d be allowed to revive again, and that session was over a week away. There had been no hint of intrusion from Daniel Harker since he had helped spot Xavier Vernet’s name, and Jonah was still putting off taking the rest of the pills Graves had given him. He was beginning to think Harker was gone for good, and that there would be no need to take them at all.

He still carried them with him, just in case.

*   *   *

By the time Friday arrived, Jonah woke with the level of confidence he’d been expecting; he felt sick with anxiety. He got ready, the nausea persisting, then stood on the street outside his apartment building waiting for Never to give him a ride, holding the folder that contained the notes for his talk.

‘All set?’ Never asked as Jonah shut the car door.

‘All set,’ said Jonah, and that was the full extent of their conversation until they arrived at the conference venue, Jonah reading over his notes and trying to decide if he was really able to do this.

They parked, then headed around to the main entrance, through the security checks and into the hotel foyer. It was early, another forty minutes before the opening address, but the foyer was already filling up and a dozen or so huddles of people had formed. Jonah looked around. Revivers abounded in the hotel, many he recognized, some he knew. Almost all were forensic revivers, but there were a handful of renowned private revivers as well. His mind went back to Tess, oozing money and amused by Jonah’s indifference to it. He wondered where she was now, then tried to push thoughts of her out of his head, still unsure how he felt about the way things had gone.

‘Do you people have permission to be here?’ said a stern voice. Jonah looked to his right to see Ray Johnson smiling at them.

‘Detective Johnson,’ said Never, grinning. ‘Business or pleasure?’

‘Here to sit and listen, then eat the buffet lunch. Bob was asked to send a representative, and he picked me. I think they want us to give a talk next year and Bob’s wanting me to do it rather than him. There’s an officer from NYC doing one today. I’m going to pick her brains and see if she’s as cute as I’ve heard.’

‘The perils of making the news, I guess,’ said Never. ‘For a moment I thought they’d drafted you in as extra security.’

Johnson looked around and shrugged. ‘Happy to be a civilian for the day. Besides, they have enough without me. Not just hired staff, either. Plenty of officers on duty, if you look. But I’ll see you guys later. I have a cop to charm.’

As Ray Johnson left them to it, Jonah looked around. The thick-necked private security guards were all he could see, but he took Johnson’s word for it.

A few people waved to him; Jonah nodded back as he and Never joined the short line at the registration desk.

While Never finished signing in, Jonah read over the schedule for the day. The various talks were split across three function rooms; the smallest of the three was upstairs, his own talk scheduled there for 11 a.m. Seeing it in ink flooded him with anxiety.

‘You OK?’ asked Never.

‘No.’

‘Once it’s over I’ll buy you a drink.’

He couldn’t suppress the thought of beer slopping around in his stomach. ‘Not helping.’

‘Sorry. But I do plan on getting you royally drunk this evening, one way or another.’

A shout of ‘Geary!’ from across the foyer caught their attention. It was J. J. Metah and the rest of the FRS team who were attending – Pru Dryden and Jason Shepperton the reviver contingent, J. J. being the other tech representative. Jonah and Never headed over.

‘Good luck with the presentation, Jonah,’ Pru said. ‘It was my turn last year.’

‘You lot up for drinks later?’ asked Never.

‘Can’t,’ said Pru. ‘My mom’s babysitting Elsa, I promised I’d get back. But I’d put money on these two being up for it.’

Shepperton laughed. ‘Face it, listening to talks the whole day will make us
all
want a drink.’

‘Uh, actually,’ said Jonah, ‘can everyone just skip mine? I’m really nervous, it’d be a big help.’
And I couldn’t do it if Jason was in the audience.