He had brought with him a copy of Ana’s medical records. He added to it a full description of everything he had seen in the past hour or two, copied the whole document, and made sure that a complete set was included with the file records on Ana. When Ana’s body was finally taken away for storage he went back to the house, fell into bed, and slept like a cryocorpse himself for sixteen hours.

It was time for the next step. And it was not going to be easy.

When Drake was fully awake again, fed and bathed, he called Tom Lambert and asked to see him — at Tom’s home, rather than his office. He accepted the hefty drink that Tom prepared, after one look at him, for “medicinal purposes,” and laid out his plans.

After he was finished Tom walked over to Drake, poked the muscles in his shoulders and the back of his neck, pulled down his lower eyelid and stared at the exposed skin, and finally went to sit opposite him.

“You’ve been under a monstrous strain for the past few months,” he said quietly.

“Very true. I have.” Drake kept his voice just as calm.

“And it would be quite unnatural for your behavior or your feelings to be completely normal. In fact, if you seem normal now, it’s only because you have completely walled in your emotions. You certainly don’t understand the implications of what you are proposing to me.”

Drake shook his head. “This isn’t new. It’s only new to you. I’ve been thinking of this since the day I gave up on all other options.”

“Then that was the day you put the lid on your feelings.” Tom Lambert leaned forward. “Look, Drake, Ana was a wonderful woman, a unique woman. I won’t say I know what you have been through, because obviously I don’t. I do have some idea of your sense of loss. But you have to ask yourself what Ana would want you to do now. You can’t let the past become your obsession. She would tell you that you still have a life of your own. Even without her, you have to live it. She would want you to live it, because she loved you.” He paused. “Let me make a suggestion…”