1:30pm

I’ve spent an inordinate amount of time in the last nine months searching every database imaginable and talking to every conceivable contact, hoping to track down some definitive information on Max’s siblings. Early on, I asked Beverly Shankar to search the medical examiner’s archives for any bodies with barcode tattoos that may have been found in the last ten years. Beverly explained that although the national database was fragmented and incomplete, it was still a relatively good source of information on John Does. I was relieved, though, when despite her efforts, she came up empty handed. At least there was hope that all of Max’s siblings were still alive. Max’s contact with them is already so limited, so precarious. I never wanted to tell her that one of them had died before they even had a chance to reunite. But now it appears that is exactly what I must do.

Beverly did not forget my request, so when a body with a barcode tattoo turned up yesterday, she thought of me. She fired off some morgue shots a few minutes ago. The tattoo on the body looks exactly like Max’s, same location, twelve digits, unmistakably Manticore. This is one call I don’t want to make. I wish I could protect Max from this news, but I suppose it was too much to expect that all of her siblings had survived.

3:00 pm

Max came by and confirmed what I dreaded to tell her. That is her brother Ben’s tattoo on my monitor.

"It’s Ben," Max whispered, instantly withdrawing into her grief.

"When a soldier dies, you pay your respects," she said more to herself than to me. Her tone indicated she was right back at Manticore. I’m sure she didn’t hear a word I said when I set up her appointment to view the body. She barely acknowledged me through her tears. Given what it takes to bring down an X5, I couldn’t help repeating my worry mantra one more time.

"Be careful," I pleaded, meaning it more than ever. She nodded her head absentmindedly, but her thoughts were already elsewhere. I hope to God that she is careful and that she will be okay.

5:00 pm

I paged Max a few minutes ago to see how she was doing. She told me that Lydecker arrived at the morgue shortly after her and confiscated Ben’s body. That man never wastes any time. It took a few quick moves on her part, but she was able to avoid him. At least she had a few minutes to say goodbye to Ben.

I offered her my condolences, which she seemed to accept. I even offered to cook for her, hoping that I could be of some comfort. I was sure that she would have wanted to come over, if not for the food, then at least for some conversation, but she said she had something to do. She seems to be handling Ben’s death better than I expected. Still, something doesn’t feel right. Considering how open she has been with me lately, I’m surprised she didn’t just tell me where she was heading. And there was something in her voice, a distracted quality. I almost missed it hiding behind that breezy tone she uses when she doesn’t want to reveal anything. I haven’t heard that tone in a long time. Why would she want to hide something from me now? Maybe she is not as okay as she is trying to appear.