Chapter IV, pt. II

The secret service agents were at his door.

“Mr. Falconer’s waiting,” the one of the left said.

Justin leaped off the couch, uncertain, leaning forward with two clenched fists, sleepy eyes forced wide. Adam held out his hand and silently ordered him to halt.

“These are my friends,” Adam said to Justin, then turned to the agents, “right?”

They each nodded once, in unison.

Justin warily sank back down onto the couch, tense at first, then slowly relaxing. He laid back and put his hands on his forehead, getting back to the mysteries of the universe which swam about in his head like a child’s mobile.

There was a limousine waiting outside. Adam followed the agents toward it. One of them opened the door for him. He glanced at both agents standing on either side of him as they patted him down, then hopped in. Henry Falconer greeted him with a wink. The two agents got into a car parked behind the limo and the party drove off.

“I hear you weren’t too surprised that we found you,” Falconer said, “when and where we did.”

Adam was strangely uncertain. He was losing his edge. He said nothing and dug around in his pocket, never breaking eye contact with Falconer. He brought his hand up for Falconer to see, cradled in his palm was the tiny tic tac-like RFID chip.

Falconer smiled, “where on earth did you get that thing?”

Adam lifted his shirt to reveal a stomach encrusted with still healing scabs and gashes, red around the edges.

Falconer couldn’t suppress an easy laugh, “now, that takes motivation.”

Adam put the chip back in his pocket. They sat in silence. Falconer stared at him, fascinated, then he laughed again and shook his head.

“How are you feeling, Adam, okay? Since the accident, I mean.”

Adam nodded. Falconer leaned back, resting his arms on the seatback, smiling, gazing out the window.

“You went downtown the other day,” Falconer said, “I understand you’ve got a lot to say.”

Adam said nothing.

“Hey,” Falconer leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, “relax. You’re not in trouble.”

“I made a new friend, downtown,” Adam finally said.

“Good,” Falconer said, truly pleased.

“Isn’t it?” Adam said, smiling.

“It strikes me that,” Falconer said, “you’ve got passion. I mean, one look at that stomach of yours confirms it. You have a message for the world don’t you?”

“Maybe,” Adam said.

“What is it?” Falconer asked.

Adam shrugged, “it’s different for everyone.”

Falconer nodded and looked out the window, then said, “ever think about getting into politics?”

“Oh,” Adam said, “I leave that for more worthy men than myself.”

Falconer noted the sarcasm, and said, “I think you could have a future in politics. In one form or another. We could re-make you into a preacher, or get you started in congress. You’re hot property, did you know that?”

Adam put the back of his hand against his forehead, “no, I hadn’t realized.”

“You’ve kept a low profile, but they still talk about you every day on TV and radio. Speaking of which, I heard you on the Mike Marsh show. You don’t buy into his conspiracy theories, do you, Adam?”

“I’m open to anything these days.”

Falconer smiled.

“I think Marsh tries to educate the people,” Adam continued.

“He’s an evangelist, and a phony,” Falconer said, finally doffing his air of cordiality, “he’s only in it for the money.”

“Well,” Adam said, thoughtfully, “I’m in it to educate the people, and I think Marsh’s audience is curious about the truth.”

“You can’t teach the people to be smarter than they are,” Falconer said, “They won’t listen. They’ll fight you. They’ve been got to already, and don’t forget who got to them first. If you’re really out to change the world you’re going to find that most people can’t run their own lives. People crave structure. They crave leaders. They need leaders, because most of them are not capable of leadership or responsibility.”

Adam fought to keep his blood down. He felt his face grow warm and his fists clench.

“Do you know where we are going, Adam,” Falconer said, no longer smiling.

Adam looked from side to side out the windows, “my guess is, we’re going to the baseball stadium.”

“That’s right,” Falconer said, smiling, “very good. Do you like baseball?”

Adam mimed hitting a ball with a bat, then smiled at Falconer and said, “no.”

“Come on, drinks, popcorn, ball park franks, big pretzels, anything you want, it’s on me! The great American past time, what do you say?”

“Well,” Adam said with finality, “I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”