“Of course there are going to be ethical questions,” Rheinschild goes on to say, “which is why I’ve started an organization to study the ethical issues inherent in this sort of medical advancement. Proactive Citizenry, as I’m calling it, will be a watchdog to make sure there are no abuses of this technology. A conscience to make sure nothing goes wrong.”
Connor stops the video, trying to process it all. “Holy crap! So he founded Proactive Citizenry to protect the world from what he created!”
“And it became the very monster he was afraid of.”
Connor thinks back to something he learned in school. Oppenheimer—the man who created the first nuclear bomb—turned against it in the end and became the bomb’s greatest opponent. What if Rheinschild was the same, speaking out against unwinding, then was silenced—or worse—was silenced before he even had the chance to speak out. Not even the Admiral remembered the man, which means Rheinschild was either already gone or was prevented from speaking out against the Unwind Accord.
Lev reaches over and starts the video again—just a few more seconds of Rheinschild joyfully, naively waxing on about the glorious future he envisioned. “This is just the beginning. If we’re able to regenerate nerve tissue, we can regenerate anything—it’s just a matter of time.”
The interview freezes on his smiling face, and Connor can’t help but feel tremendous sorrow for this man; the secret father of unwinding, who paved a road to a place beyond hell with his good intentions.
“That’s pretty wild,” says Lev, “but how can knowing all this stop unwinding? Isn’t that what you said, that finding out about this guy can change life as we know it, or something like that? Even if everyone knew about him, it wouldn’t change a thing.”
Connor shakes his head in frustration. “There’s got to be something we’re missing.”
He scrolls down to the end of the article, where there’s a picture of Rheinschild and his wife in a laboratory—apparently they worked as a team. When Connor reads the caption beneath the photo, his stomach seizes so suddenly, he thinks he might lose both of his Best in the Southwest burgers.
“It couldn’t be. . . .”
“What is it?”
Connor can’t speak for a moment. He looks at the caption again. “His wife. Her name is Sonia!”
Lev doesn’t get it—and why should he? He was never in that first safe house with Connor and Risa. Sonia was the name of the old woman who ran it. Over the years she must have rescued hundreds, maybe thousands, of AWOL Unwinds. Connor enlarges the picture on the screen, and the more he looks at Mrs. Rheinschild, the more certain he is.
It’s the same Sonia!
What was it she said to him? We move in and out of darkness and light all of our lives. Right now, I’m pleased to be in the light. Connor had no idea the burden of darkness she must have been carrying all these years.
“I know that woman,” he tells Lev. “And now I know where we have to go. We’re going back to Ohio.”
Lev grows pale at the suggestion. “Ohio?” The thought of home brings a scorpion’s nest of emotions neither one of them are ready for, but Sonia’s antique shop is in Akron. If there’s more to this picture, she’s the only one who can give it to them.
Bells above the diner’s front door jingle, and a stone-faced deputy saunters in, his eyes immediately scanning the room. While Connor and Lev were absorbed by the news article, two patrol cars had pulled up out front, and officers are all over the stolen Honda.
“You look like a deer in headlights,” Connor whispers to Lev. “Stop it.”
“I can’t help it.” Lev lowers his head so his hair hangs over his face, but that looks just as conspicuous as antelope eyes.
Sure enough, the deputy zeroes in on them and makes a beeline across the diner—but to Connor’s surprise, their waitress gets to the table first and says, “Tommy, you just about inhaled those burgers! You keep eating like that and you’ll burst out of your jeans.”
Connor is a little slack-jawed as the deputy arrives, but Lev pulls out of road-kill mode and says, “Yeah, Tommy, you’re such a pig. You’ll get fat, just like your dad.”
“It’s in the genes,” says the waitress, not missing a beat. “Better be careful!”
The deputy turns to the waitress. “You know these boys, Karla?”
“Yeah, this is my nephew, Tommy, and his friend Evan.”
“Ethan,” says Lev. “You always get my name wrong.”
“Well at least I knew it started with an E.”
Connor nods politely to the deputy and looks at the waitress. “Your burgers are just too good, Aunt Karla. So if I get fat, it’s your fault.”
Satisfied, the deputy turns to Karla, concluding that Connor and Lev are somebody else’s problem. “Know anything about that car out there?” he asks her.
Karla looks out the window and says, “A couple of kids pulled up, maybe an hour ago. Boy and a girl. I noticed them because they looked to be in a hurry.”