‘I have. Gaynor took me to the hospital on the way to the police station. It’s awful to see her looking so ill. But she’s conscious, she’s stable, and they’re planning to move her out of intensive care tomorrow. She can’t really talk much yet, but she is on the mend. And it looks as if they’ve managed to save her other leg.’
‘I’m so glad, Connie. You’ve been through a hell of a lot. Both of you.’
‘I guess so. But we might be on the home straight now. You’re all over the news here, with your allegations. Did you know that?’
‘I’ve caught a couple of bulletins,’ Jones murmured.
‘Everyone’s denying all knowledge, of course. The FBI knows absolutely nothing, as usual. Our national government knows even less, it seems. And our apology for a president has gone on holiday to Camp David. I can’t wait to see the papers tomorrow. Fox TV are already calling it Connie-gate.’
Jones smiled. Connie sounded quite like her old self. Jones was delighted. She also felt she should counsel a little caution. Whoever had tried to kill Connie after she’d escaped the Princeton blast, and whoever had been responsible for that explosion, the death of two scientists and the injuries to the students, would probably want Connie dead more than ever. Even if they didn’t actually dare do anything about it, for the time being.
‘Take care, Connie,’ she said. ‘You may not be out of the woods yet. It’s hard to second guess what will happen next. You’re still a target you know, you have to be—’
‘C’mon, you downbeat,’ Connie interrupted cheerily. ‘If an accident should befall me now there’d be an international outcry. I’m suddenly safe as houses. I’m not just bulletproof, I’m goddamned nuclear missile proof. Thanks to you.’
‘Well, I guess so, but—’
‘No buts, Sandy. Connie Pike is in business again. I reckon we’ll get RECAP back up and running after this. The university won’t have any choice. Not with all the publicity. I knew you were the one person who could put things right. RECAP could get a whole new lease of life, Sandy. It could be better than ever.’
‘Well, yes maybe.’
Jones was a touch surprised. She hadn’t expected Connie to react quite so effusively.
‘But Paul is still dead,’ she continued quietly. ‘We can’t bring him back.’
‘No, none of us will ever get over Paul’s death,’ Connie responded. ‘But he would have wanted his work to go on. And that’s what’s going to happen, Sandy. RECAP is going to go on and on, for another thirty years, forty years, for as long as it takes. The journey will continue.’
‘But what about an end to that journey? Paul’s final work, his paper—’
‘If it’s lost, it’s lost,’ Connie interrupted. ‘That’s been one of the big media lines here already, by the way. Has the secret of consciousness been lost for ever? But we won’t stop. We will carry on Paul’s work. That’s what matters.’
Ed tugged at the sleeve of Sandy’s sweater.
‘Why don’t you tell her? Tell her I copied Paul’s paper.’
‘Hold on a minute, Connie.’ Jones put her hand over the receiver.
‘I nearly did, just then,’ she whispered. ‘But she’s got half the NYPD with her, for Christ’s sake. She thinks we’re all bulletproof now. I’d like to hold back the trump card until we’re sure of that. Do you want to talk to her?’
Ed nodded furiously. Jones handed him the receiver.
‘Just remember, don’t mention that USB.’
She wondered if she was being overly cautious. But upon reflection she didn’t think so. They still didn’t know who had been responsible for the bombing, or the attack on Marion. Jones felt strongly that danger continued to lurk. The reasons why she’d withheld all mention of the existence of a USB containing Paul’s work at the press call remained totally valid.
Ed broke off his conversation with Connie in order for Jones to say a quick goodbye. Apparently the car was just about to arrive at the TV station.
‘Gotta go kick some ass,’ Connie told her.
Not for the first time Jones wondered at the woman’s strength and resilience. With all that she had been through and all that she had lost, it seemed that Connie Pike was already in the process of picking herself up and starting again.
She turned to Ed.
‘How do you think Connie sounded?’
‘Great.’ Ed beamed at her. Then his smile faded.
‘What’s wrong?’ asked Jones.
‘I can’t help thinking about Mikey. Still no response to my email. I switched on my cell phone again, after the press conference, there seemed no reason not to, and I called him a couple of times. No reply, and he’s not called back. He’s at the heart of all this craziness, after all. I know it’s his own fault, but I can’t help worrying about him. I mean, he might have been badly injured...’
‘He’ll be all right. I think your brother is a survivor.’
‘I hope so.’
Jones reached out and touched his arm.
‘And I hope he knows how lucky he is to have a brother like you.’
‘Oh, come on.’
‘No. I hope he does. I was too dumb to know how lucky I was, when I had you in my life.’
‘You’re embarrassing me, Sandy.’
‘I’m sorry. It’s just that, even with everything that’s happened, it’s been so very good to have you around these last few days, to be with you again...’
Abruptly Ed pulled away and turned his back on her. Jones kicked herself. She hadn’t meant to say any of that.
Ed was silent for what seemed like for ever. Then he turned to face Jones again.
‘I’m very proud of you, Sandy,’ he said. ‘Not because you’re a big shot celebrity scientist. But because of what you’ve done for RECAP, for Connie, and for me. And I like being with you too. But you should know, I’ve never really got over what happened between us, what you did to me. And I’m not sure I ever will.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Jones. ‘I know I behaved abominably. I’m really so sorry for the pain I caused you.’
‘It was a long time ago...’
‘Yes. And you know what? I think I’ve spent my life ever since looking for what we had back then. But, at the time, bloody fool that I was, I didn’t even recognize it.’
In the morning Jones woke at seven, just before her alarm sounded, and slipped softly out of bed.
Ed was still asleep. In the spare bedroom. He had made it pretty clear that the situation was not going to change, not for a very long time at any rate, even though she was beginning to think she might rather like it if it did. But she knew she mustn’t dwell on that.
She left him a note before setting off to Exeter, and arrived just before eight thirty. The university was open on Saturdays and still received an early post. On the way to her office, Jones detoured to the post room to see if anything had arrived for her. She could hardly contain her excitement on finding a jiffy bag addressed to her, with a New Jersey postmark.
Jones ripped it open eagerly. Inside was the USB bearing a scientific paper which could change the world, wrapped by Ed in several layers of kitchen paper for extra protection. It looked so ordinary.
With trembling fingers she unwound the paper, and fed the USB into her laptop, avoiding her desktop computer which was connected to the university’s network system.
And there it was. Paul Ruders’ Theory of Consciousness. Jones felt the excitement rise within her. A light film of perspiration formed on her forehead, even though her office was cool. She downloaded the document and removed the USB from its slot.
Then she settled herself in her chair, and prepared to go to work.
First she cancelled — by email — the filming for the final part of her current BBC series scheduled for the following day. She was unlikely to be free in time, and in any case would now have little opportunity to prepare. She wouldn’t be popular, but she couldn’t help it. Her Oxford dinner had been cancelled for her. At that moment she didn’t give a damn about that, nor indeed anything else at all — except the Ruders Theory.