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"You don't have a desire to be more a part of the world around you?" Sarah persisted. "To feel
integrated, accepted by others?"
"Why should I?"
Sarah flashed Zehl a worried look. "At one time you were a professional, one of the best in your field,"
she said to Corrigan. "Don't you have any of that ambition anymore? Are you happy at the thought of
being a bartender indefinitely?" It was like listening to a replay of Muriel and Horace, Corrigan thought.
"Look where the other kind got me," he said.
Zehl was staring at Corrigan with a different light in his eye: brooding, more reflective. For a moment
Corrigan had the odd feeling that it was he and Zehl who shared some common insight that the
circumstances precluded discussing openly, and not the two specialists.
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"Getting back to the immediate future, Joe, what do you think you might do?" Zehl asked, moving them
off the subject. "Any possible plans yet?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact," Corrigan answered. "Just a thought that crossed my mind while I was having
breakfast. Maybe I could use a change of scene and start getting in touch with the rest of the wide world
again. We've talked about it before, but with Muriel out of the way this might be the right time. I was
thinking I could take a vacation back to Ireland."
Zehl frowned. Clearly he was far from instantly enamored at the idea.
"Ireland?" Sarah repeated. Her voice was quavery. For some reason the suggestion seemed to bewilder
her. "Why would you want to go to Ireland?"
"I'm Irish," Corrigan said. "Sometimes people like to go back and see the place they're from." Surely it
was obvious.
Sarah was shaking her head, but she seemed to be having to search for a reason. "No, I don't think so,
Joe," she said. "I don't think that would be possible at all."
The abruptness of her response set Corrigan at odds again. "Why not?" he objected. "It's been twelve
years now since the Oz project screwed up. I'm in control of my life again. I'm holding down a job that's
good enough to keep me independent." He drew a breath and looked at her pointedly. "And it wasn't me
who gave up on the marriage this morning and quit."
Sarah shook her head again. "Your condition is still more delicate than you realize. The stresses of
traveling abroad would just be inviting trouble. Yes, you're right you have made a lot of progress. Let's
not risk undoing it all now."
"I went to Japan four years ago," Corrigan pointed out. He knew as soon as he spoke that it was a
weak argument.
"Exactly," Sarah said, not missing the point either. "And look what happened. It triggered a relapse that
you took months to get over."
Corrigan turned toward Zehl for support, but this time Zehl was on Sarah's side. "Sorry, Joe, I have to
veto it," he said. He brought a hand up to touch his temple with a finger in a flicking motion, vaguely
suggestive of a salute it was a peculiarity of his that Corrigan had noticed before. "It's a nice thought,
but you're not ready. Staying within a familiar environment is an important part of your cure. Sure, take a
break if you need to, but keep it in the city, eh?" Zehl shrugged and made a palm-up gesture. "Maybe a
few walks by the river. Go see a game, the zoo, maybe try a concert. How many of the museums have
you visited? Get the idea? Easy, relaxing, familiar. You'd be surprised at the supportive effects of being in
places you know."
"I know Ireland pretty well, too," Corrigan pointed out, although by now it was mainly through
obstinacy. He had not been officially discharged from medical care, and Zehl had the authority certainly
to overrule any long-distance travel plans, and probably to have Corrigan put back under institutional
care if he judged it to be in the patient's welfare to do so Corrigan didn't want to put that to the test.
Zehl raised a hand firmly. "No, and that's final. Next year, maybe, but not now. I'll pull rank if I have to."
Corrigan stretched out an arm and tapped idly at the keyboard beside him while he considered how to
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respond. "So, do you know what you want, Joe?" Sarah asked him again.
Corrigan scratched the side of his nose. "Not a lot," he replied finally. "The first thing is to do a lot of
thinking. And I can do that anywhere. So for the time being it will be a case of simply carrying on as
usual. If that changes, I'll let you know."
Chapter Four
Pittsburgh had seen a surprising amount of demolition and rebuilding in recent years.
The Camelot Hotel was located downtown on Fourth Avenue a redevelopment of a site where an
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