Read Total Recall for Free Online Page B

Mars when you can be a playboy, an athlete, a—”
    Despite his doubt, Quaid was interested. “Secret agent—how much is that?”
    “Let me tantalize you, Doug. It’s like a movie, and you’re the star. Thrills, chills, double identities, chases! You’re a top operative, back under deep cover on your most important mission . . .” He trailed off.
    “Go on,” Quaid said, not wishing to be teased.
    McClane sat back. “I don’t wanna spoil it for you, Doug. Just rest assured, by the time it’s all over, you’ll have got the girl, killed the bad guys, and saved the planet.” He smiled victoriously. “Now would you say that’s worth three hundred credits?”
    Quaid reluctantly smiled. McClane’s final bait-and-switch ploy had gotten him hooked.

CHAPTER  6

41A
    T here were other routine details that Quaid tuned out in much the way he did irrelevant windows of a multi-screen. It turned out that once the decision was made, there was no need for delay, as this was a purely internal procedure. Internal in the head. A couple of hours, and he’d be back from Mars: it was that simple, as far as his part in it was concerned. McClane had promised that he would have a ready explanation for the lack of missing time; how could he have been at work today, yet be returning from two weeks off-planet? Not to worry; there would be no apparent incongruity. He would keep his memory private, because he didn’t want to make his co-workers jealous, and they would not mention his absence, supposing it to have been an embarrassing illness. He would never be inclined to check the actual dates of his trip against the dates of his employment, because his memory had them firmly recorded. A direct challenge, with assembled evidence, would of course turn up discrepancies—but who would want to do that? Not his co-workers, not Lori, who would be relieved to see him get the notion of going to Mars out of his system. She would be notified of what he had done, because she was next of kin and needed to know where the money had gone, but she would go along with it. They would even throw in a bonus for her: a token memory of seeing him off at the spaceport, and being lonely while he was gone, so that she could properly appreciate the impact of his experience. No problems, guaranteed.
    In fact, if he remembered any of his visit to this office, he could come in for a refund. There had to be no problem, or they took the loss. The system was self-correcting.
    Now it was evening, and they were ready. McClane guided him to another office in the rear of the complex, where there was something resembling an old-fashioned dentist’s chair. The chamber looked like a cross between an operating room and a sound-mixing booth. A nurse put a green surgical smock over his street clothes. “Don’t worry, Mr. Quaid,” she said as McClane departed. “This is only to protect your clothing from any staining from the IV. We’re not into surgery!”
    “IV?” he asked, startled.
    “We must put you just a little bit under, Mr. Quaid, so that your mind is receptive to the memory implant. It really wouldn’t work if you were fully conscious.” She smiled. She was not as pretty as the receptionist, and her blouse was fully opaque, but her smile was pleasant and reassuring.
    “Uh, yes, of course,” he agreed, taking his seat in the chair. It was pleasant having a woman fuss over him, any woman, anytime. Lori was good at that, very good. But the one on Mars—
    The nurse made sure he was comfortable, placing his arms on the armrests just so and adjusting the headrest. She rolled back his left sleeve and swabbed his forearm with cool alcohol. “My, you must be a powerful man, Mr. Quaid!” she said, noting the musculature of the arm as she dabbed on a surface anesthetic. Most women claimed to be more interested in character than appearance, exactly as most men did, but appearance always got in its innings.
    “I’m a construction engineer. A