She gestured. “He doesn’t know; he never did know. He didn’t volunteer—” “Sure he did. It was his job.” “He had no idea, and he hasn’t any idea now, because now he hasn’t any ideas. You know that as well as I do. And he will never again in his life, as long as he lives, have any ideas. Only reflexes. And this didn’t happen accidentally; it was supposed to happen. So we have this … bad karma on us. I feel it on my back. Like a corpse. I’m carrying a corpse—Bob Arctor’s corpse. Even while he’s technically alive.”
