Inside Outt

then?”
    “A company that devised an innovative way to dispose of cadavers. The Ecologia machine freeze-dries Aunt Betty in liquid nitrogen, vibrates her into dust, vacuums up the water, removes any dental or surgical metals with a special magnet, and leaves you with nothing but compost. They recommend you plant a tree using Aunt Betty as the fertilizer. A memory tree, I think they call it.”
    “That’s how you got rid of the Caspers. You killed them and then freeze-dried them.”
    “Actually, as I understand it, the Caspers were run through the machines alive. Drugged first. They didn’t feel anything. They weren’t afraid. They didn’t know what was coming.”
    Ben shook his head. He’d been involved in some dark things, some things that crossed the line, he knew. But this… it was extreme.
    “Are you starting to get it now?” Ulrich said. “Imagine videos worse than Abu Ghraib, worse than what’s described even in the nonredacted version of the CIA inspector general’s report. Videos that would have implicated our brave men and women in activities the liberal media would call murder. If those tapes had gotten out, it would have been a national security calamity.”
    Ben thought for a minute. He said, “Who signed off on acquiring the Ecologia units? That must have been a big purchase, right? Liquid nitrogen, high-powered vibration, and magnets… and there would have been training, too, right? It’s not like you bought a toaster oven with an instruction booklet. This was big. Whose fingerprints are on the authorization paperwork?”
    Ulrich didn’t answer.
    “Yeah, I thought so.”
    “If your point is that I’m motivated because I’ve got my own skin in the game—”
    “That was my point. Yeah.”
    “—you should know that my own exposure or lack of exposure is hardly the point. The national security risk exists either way.”
    “Can you really tell the difference between one and the other?”
    “Just give me the tapes. I’ll make sure they’re properly disposed of. And you might have noticed, I’m pretty well connected in Washington.”
    “You’re kidding, right? You’re a lobbyist. That’s, what, one level higher on the food chain than a telemarketer?”
    “I’m talking about influence. And if you don’t think I have it, you’re not paying attention. I’d say you deserve a promotion for what you’ve done. The posting of your choice. Maybe an assignment to the National Security Council, how would that be? The national security advisor is a personal friend. You’d have his ear. Y2ou could see how policy is really made. From the inside.”
    Ben looked at Ulrich’s ego wall. His urge to hit the guy had evaporated, leaving behind a sediment of dull nausea and a nameless feeling of being somehow… tainted.
    “I’ve seen it,” he said. He turned and walked toward the door.
    “Wait,” Ulrich said. “What about the tapes?”
    Ben didn’t answer. He opened the door and kept on walking.
    Ulrich hurried to his side. “Then tell me what you want,” he said, his voice low. “Money? The government was prepared to pay a hundred million to have those tapes back. You can have that, too.”
    Ben hit the down button in the elevator bank. His head hurt. He wanted to be alone.
    “Just tell me what you want,” Ulrich said.
    A chime sounded. The elevator doors opened. Ben stepped inside.
    “I’ll let you know,” he said.
    “Wait, you can’t just walk away. We’re talking about the property of the U.S. government. You can’t—”
    The doors closed. Ben hit the button for the third floor. He’d take the stairs from there.
    He considered that phrase,
property of the U.S. government.
He wondered if Ulrich intended, or even recognized, its sudden ambiguity.

CHAPTER 39
More Inside
    B en walked through downtown D.C., feeling exhausted, adrift. This thing had seemed so straightforward at first. Why didn’t it now? Nothing had really changed. There were tapes. If the tapes got out, it would be a terrorist recruitment bonanza. He’d been tasked with locating the tapes, and he’d carried out his orders. He hadn’t managed a neat, final conclusion, and there was no real victory to declare, but under the circumstances he’d achieved the best possible outcome, or anyway the least bad one. The information he’d uncovered had enabled Uncle Sam to avoid a checkmate in favor of a stalemate. And for purposes of keeping those tapes under wraps, a stalemate was just as good as a