Thursday, May 25, 2006
Temporary lowering of the paranoia index
As much as last week's events were unnerving, they do sort of mean a little pressure is off me. The Feds aren't having me watch people to see if I recognize Korpin-ness where there shouldn't be any; after all, I'd have to watch everybody I met with a Y chromosome and then presume that the person I was looking for was still in the city, state, or country. Which is scary, sure, but no scarier than how any person you meet could be a suicide bomber, sex offender, ex-con, you name it. It's a danger you have to live with.
But, until about the end of the month, Korpin's locked into a body; everybody who has examined the design and knows what they're talking about says that it takes a couple weeks for enough of the nanothings to dislodge from the brain to make using another set safe. This means that, since all the men in my life had blood tests on Thursday, I got a surprise gift of a week of freedom from the fear that anyone I know isn't who he or shee appears to be when the results came back clean on Monday. That is something awesome that we really shouldn't take for granted.
It's also comforting to see that this new round of switcheroos isn't about me. I don't think I've ever met Amy Sanada before in my life, and she wasn't just a convenient place for Korpin to stash his mind until he could get close to me and my friends again. I'm glad; it means I'm probably in very little danger from here forward; I'm going to be free to be myself, my friends are all safe, and the FBI can worry about tracking down Misha Korpin version 3.0; they're way better equipped for it than I am. Sure, it's a bit of a blow to the ego that I'm not considered awesome enough that he wants to be with me even in a new body, but that's fine with me - who needs the affection of a psycho who was in it for the power trip, anyway?
So I can relax, at least a little. Alex and I were still reflexively scanning the crowd when we went to Monday's ballgame, of course; it's all I've been doing for the last month, so it's become force of habit. Alex would catch me doing it and point to someone in the general direction that was entirely unlikely (like a man in his seventies with his grandson) and say, "think that's him?", and we'd laugh a little, even if we probably shouldn't.
Because, as much as I'm relieved, there's some very not-funny aspects to it. Agent Jones and his team are back to where they started - a missing girl. The Cambridge Police Department didn't officially consult with them until Tuesday morning, after the Sanadas flew up from New Jersey to find out why they haven't heard from their daughter on the weekend she was supposed to come home for the summer. They had a head start, of course - they've been looking for her ever since I spotted her a week ago, although they naturally don't hold out much hope of finding her alive.
Still, recovering the body would be good for everyone. It would give the Sanadas closure, and the body and where it was found would hopefully be a source of valuable forensic evidence.
God, that's morbid. Hopefully, there's a very confused girl out there, so there's at least something left of Amy and whoever Korpin switched with.
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