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.Or perhaps, Barney conceded late into the night, perhaps the NCI containing the copy of Barney Kluger did still possess, hidden deep somewhere in its convoluted subroutines and programming, some vestige of loyalty towards his old partner?The following morning he woke early and, as he showered and dressed preparatory to making his way down to the labs, it came to him that Hal’s life depended on the success of his actions over the next few hours.* * * *Twenty-OneWhen Halliday awoke he was no longer in the dome.He lay in bed in a small room, its stark minimalism suggesting a hospital, though there was no evidence of surgical apparatus in sight, no monitors or diagnostic coms.He sat up and swung his legs from the bed, and his head swam with the sudden movement.He ached in every bone of his body, and he experienced a familiar nausea that resulted from an extended period in VR.He was bare-chested.He sat on the edge of the bed and looked down at his body, touching the neat line that vertically bisected his chest - the only evidence that remained of the shooting.He took a series of deep breaths, filling his lungs; he felt weak, and when he held his right arm out before him he saw that his hand was trembling uncontrollably.A digital calendar on the wall told him that it was the twelfth of July, a week to the day since Tallak had shot him.Weak sunlight filled the room.A window looked out across a street to a row of town houses, and he heard the occasional engine of a passing automobile.So he was in the city, somewhere.He felt suddenly tired and lay down.A nurse entered the room, smiled at him and applied something cold to the skin of his forearm.He wanted to protest that he was feeling fine, and didn’t want to sleep, but seconds later he felt himself slipping.Later he was aware of a doctor standing over him, examining him with devices that glinted silver in the overhead fluorescents.He drifted, heard the medic talking to him.He even replied, but recalled nothing of the conversation, other than the doctor’s parting words, ‘I see no reason why you can’t leave tomorrow, Mr Halliday.’When he came awake again, the calendar read the fourteenth of July.He felt better; the nausea was gone, and his body no longer ached quite so badly.A clock on the cabinet beside the bed read 10.45.He sat up and swung his legs out of bed, and only then saw that he had company.Casey sat on a chair by the window, her sneakered feet hanging centimetres above the floor.‘Hi, Hal.How you feeling?’He smiled, shook his head.‘Better than I thought I would, considering.’‘They called me last night, said you could go home today.I’ve brought some things.’ She indicated a neatly folded pile of clothes on top of the bedside cabinet.‘Great.’ He looked across at her.She was swinging her legs, smiling at him.If she harboured any resentment after their conversation in the Serengeti site, she gave no sign.It was so fresh in his memory that he could hardly bring himself to look her in the eye - but for her, he reminded himself, their meeting in VR had occurred five days ago.He dressed slowly, the simple act of pulling on his jeans requiring an effort and degree of concentration that surprised him.When it came to buttoning his shirt, he found that his fingers had lost dexterity and coordination.Casey sighed.‘Here, let me do that, okay?’He didn’t protest.She stood before him, lips compressed as she quickly fastened the buttons from the bottom up.He wondered whether he should hug her, tell her how good it was to see her again.‘There.You ready? Let’s go, okay? I’ll give you a guided tour of your new office.Just wait till you see it, talk about swish! Makes your old place look kinda cheap.’He had to think about walking, concentrate on keeping his balance as he stepped from the room and down a carpeted corridor.Uniformed nurses moved back and forth with a quick efficiency that left him vicariously exhausted.Casey slowed her pace to match his, taking his arm and glancing at him with concern.When they emerged into the daylight, he saw a low morning sun emerging from behind a skyline of mansions to the east.He guessed they were on the Upper West Side somewhere.The sidewalk was quiet, with only the occasional pedestrian walking a dog or taking a leisurely stroll.‘What day is it, Casey?’‘Sunday,’ she said, ‘all day.’He laughed.Now that he knew, the day did have that strange, indefinable atmosphere of lassitude possessed only by the traditional day of rest.Casey had a cab waiting.As they motored east through quiet streets, she took his arm and squeezed.‘Hey, guess what?’He looked at her.She seemed so young, so enthusiastic and full of life.‘Go on.’‘That interview I had, the last time I saw you in the real world—’‘Don’t tell me, Casey.You got the job, right?’‘Right on.It’s only waitressing, but it’s in a big diner on Fifth and there’s a chance of promotion.I work part-time, five afternoons a week.So I’ll have my mornings free to come round and bug you, okay?’He smiled.‘I couldn’t stop you if I wanted to, could I?’She punched him.‘I start today at two.I’ll have time to get you settled in your new place, then I’m off.’His office was in a plush three-storey walk-up off Lexington Avenue where El Barrio phased into Carnegie Hill, about ten blocks south of his old office.Ten blocks, but it might have been a world away from the poverty of his old haunt.There were no beggars or refugees in sight, no food stalls in the street; the buildings had the appearance of having been maintained over the years, and not allowed to fall into the decrepitude that had overtaken so much of the city north of 96th Street.Casey paid off the taxi and led him across the sidewalk.‘Hey, he said, stopping.‘How’d that get here?’ He indicated his battered Ford slumped in the gutter.Casey smiled at him, unable to conceal an expression of pleasure.‘I had it brought back from Chinatown, Hal.Couldn’t leave Barney’s old banger down there to get broken into, could I? C’mon.’They passed through a swing door into a spacious, mock-marble tiled corridor.They took an elevator to the third floor and he followed Casey down a short corridor to a door at the far end.‘Okay, Hal.Close your eyes.’He did as she ordered.He heard her swipe a key-card through the lock and the door click open.She took his hand and pulled him inside.‘You can open them now.What do you think?’He peered around a large, red-carpeted room that looked more like a doctor’s surgery than the office of a one-man detective agency.Potted plants, a landscape painting on the wall, a silver kidney-shaped desk.Barney would have died laughing.‘Well?’‘I’m impressed.Some place.I dunno, though.I feel like I don’t belong here.’‘You’ll fit in, Hal, given time.You feed yourself up, get fit again.Buy yourself some new clothes.’She danced around the desk, fell into a big swivel recliner chair and lodged her feet beside the desk-com - his system from the old place, he was pleased to see.She rocked back and forth.‘You’ll attract a different kind of customer, Hal.Rich folk with dollars to burn
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