But as he went back to pour coffee for the griping truckers, he realized yes, I most certainly can.

Half a mile away, Tessic’s sound system blasted Vivaldi as he was waved through the guard gate of the plant. He was the only civilian granted unrestricted access. One of the perks of having friends in high places, and a vested interest in the facility. With the gate closing behind him and the winding, forested road to the plant up ahead, Tessic changed his personal audio soundtrack to the Rolling Stones, to re­mind him that, at 56, he wasn’t quite as old as he sometimes felt. He looked at the recipe-scribbled napkin that lay on the seat next to him and smiled. No recipe was worth what he had paid, but then, a mitzvah was not measured in dollars and cents. Besides, altruism was the best kind of business investment.

He shifted into a higher gear, singing along to “You Can’t Always Get What You Want,” feeling quite pleased with himself as he sped down his own particular path of enlightenment.

2. Maddy

Transcription excerpt, day 193. 13:45 hours

“They drug me when they take me out, now. Problem is I metabolize the stuff so fast, they gotta give me elephant doses. Can’t be healthy.”

“Open wide. I can’t see your mouth through the hole.”

“I feel like a slot machine.”

“If you were a slot machine, I might get something back.”

“Naah. Suckers’ game.”

“Not with you around. Everyone knows how you closed Las Vegas.”

“To hell with Las Vegas. The slot machines all come up triple sevens, and they think it’s something biblical.”

“Is it?”

“How should I know? If the wheels had sixes instead of sevens, they would say I was the Antichrist.”