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you
please
reconsider, for God’s sake? I think your life is in
serious
danger.”
    â€œMisty—”
    â€œLook at the examinations they performed on you! Do you think they were thorough enough? Of course they weren’t! For what you’re about to do, they might as well have just asked you to open up and say ‘ahhhh.’ Can’t you imagine how many different ways this could go wrong?”
    â€œI know something could go wrong! You think I don’t know that?”
    â€œThen why—”
    â€œMisty, I’m sick of this. I’m so tired of going over the same damn thing over and over again.”
    â€œWe go over it so much because you never answer my question! What if something
does
go wrong? You’re so worried about yourself, so mixed up in this midlife crisis of yours, that you’ve forgotten about me. What will
I
do if you don’t make it back?”
    â€œIt’s going to be fine, Misty. We both know that. Tom will be there to pick me up, and we’ll be laughing about this an hour from now.”
    She begins to cry, very softly, and I wrap my arms around her. The smell of her hair is sweet, like strawberry. I regret her fear, her pain, knowing as she does that something could go wrong, just as it went wrong with our only son. Why am I putting her through this? Is deliverance from the daily grind of life really worth the misery inflicted upon my wife?
    â€œHoney,” she says, “I know you haven’t been happy. I know you think the money will make it all better. But don’t you know that we can work through this? Can’t you see how much more sense it makes to try therapy again than this foolhardy chance you’re taking?”
    Could it be that she’s right? Should I at least take a little more time to think before I rush into something that owns the potential to end my life?
    I let go of her, about to acknowledge her concerns, and that’s when the NeuroStor officials burst back into the terminal. I don’t know whether to attribute this to coincidence or the video surveillance. Batista doesn’t really give me much time to think about it.
    â€œAre you ready, Cameron?”
    â€œActually, I’d like to speak to you for a moment, as well.”
    â€œCertainly. What is it?”
    â€œI mean I’d like to speak to you privately.”
    It’s obvious from the furrowed brow and narrow eyes that Batista isn’t pleased with this deviation from his plan. I wonder for a moment if he might just pick me up and toss me into the transmission portal, but then his features relax and he brings out that winning, artificial smile.
    â€œOf course, Cameron. Will your wife be joining us?”
    I turn to Misty. “Let me have a word with him, okay? I’ll just be a minute.”
    She nods. I can see in her eyes that she thinks I’ve changed my mind, and perhaps I have.
    Batista leads me out of the terminal and finds a nearby office that isn’t locked. He sits down behind a desk and invites me to take the visitor’s chair.
    â€œWhat’s on your mind, Cameron?”
    â€œI’m having second thoughts.”
    â€œJesus, did you have to wait until the last minute to tell me?”
    â€œDid you think I was going to just show up here and jump into the portal? I don’t know what the hell that thing is going to do to me.”
    â€œSo you’re scared, is that what you’re saying?”
    â€œYou’re goddamn right I’m scared. Wouldn’t you be?”
    Batista considers this. “Sure, I would be scared. But I’m not in your situation, so I don’t have to worry about it.”
    â€œWhat situation is that? You’re not talking about my job are you?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œBecause I can find another job. I’m not doing this because I’m afraid of unemployment.”
    â€œThen why
are
you doing this?”
    â€œYou never said what situation I’m