Silhouette by Dave Swavely Page B

dying in the process. But perhaps that was exactly what I needed to do—take revenge on my enemy and make restitution for my own crimes in a glorious orgy of mortal violence. And I began to feel that the resulting oblivion would be far preferable to living with all this.
    But the metaphysical shadow that had been following me prevented me from committing to that course. As I thought about how I would carry out this murder/suicide and pictured myself doing it, the theme of Hamlet’s most famous speech nagged me. I had seen the play dozens of times, and years ago I had even memorized the “to be or not to be” soliloquy. I couldn’t remember it word-for-word now, but I knew the point. What if there was a life after this one? And what if we have to answer for what we do here? That fear of the unknown is enough to keep even the bravest man from taking his own life, according to the Bard. I took comfort from this amid my own cowardice, because I had to admit that even if my death would make everything right, I still didn’t want to die.…
    At some time during my ruminations, an exhausted Lynn gave up on the book and rested her head on my shoulder. As I watched her fall asleep, I again felt a tiny surge of hope that we could somehow come out on the other end of this. So I decided to go with Paul’s more cautious plan, hoping that I could manage to suppress my craving to blow the old man into a thousand bits, or dismember him slowly.
    â€œAct like everything is normal,” Paul had said. I would try my best for now, but if my friend’s approach took too long, I would take it as a sign that Saul Rabin and I should pay for our sins together, in one bloody act of expiation.
    *   *   *
    At dawn I left Lynn sleeping in the bed, showered, dressed, took off in the aero, and checked the glasses, just as I had the morning before. Once again there were two messages from Paul, and a clip of Harris, which Paul had attached.
    â€œYou need to see this,” he said. “Harris fell into it somehow, and got it rated by Reality G. They say it’s legit.”
    Reality Guaranteed was the premier “genuineness evaluation” service in the world, formed under federal American law years ago, during the initial rise of computer crime. In addition to identity theft and credit fraud, audiovisual technology had progressed so far by then that any Tom, Dick, or Harry could produce albums, movies, and various forms of pornography featuring popular media figures, without the stars themselves ever being involved. These were marketed so widely on the wild wild web that certification with services like Reality G became necessary for consumers to know whether their purchases were authentic. The news could be faked, too, so a video clip couldn’t survive with any credibility unless it received their stamp of approval.
    The end of Paul’s message said that this particular clip had already been distributed and broadcast on numerous news services, but because it had started with Harris, he sent me the freak’s “world premiere” showing.
    â€œâ€¦ And it seems that the James Bond of BASS is looking more like a Benedict Arnold,” Harris was saying when the clip began, with the usual nausea-inducing, ADHD-directed visuals flashing and swirling around him. He began singing again: “ Ooooh, really makes me wonder if he had something to do with the recent Death By Dissection of his immediate superior! Nooooo, that could never be, right? A war hero confined to an office job could never get itchy for more action or power, would he? Naaaaaah. Don’t worry about this Dark Knight, folks—just hope to Hades that he doesn’t want your job.”
    A little hand from one of his tattoos stretched out to make a huge one, which pointed at the viewer.
    â€œAnd as for you, Mikey Mouse , when they put you away in that overgrown dungeon formerly known as a church, well,