The Intelligence Control and Analysis Program

Chapter 8

"There's so many."

Emily glanced over her shoulder to make sure she wasn't needed elsewhere, and then she lowered herself to the cement floor next to Genius. She crossed her legs and stared at the collection of shoes with him, a heavy weight settling in her stomach.

"Yeah..." she started. "There's got to be at least a hundred."

"Ninety-two." Genius wrapped his arms a little tighter around himself and drew his knees toward his chest. "Ninety-two pairs of shoes."

Emily nodded her head slowly and put her hands in her lap, not entirely sure what to do next. She interacted with Genius the least of everyone on the team, and despite their shared understanding of the benefit to that, the result was her not knowing what kind of comfort he needed.

"I read the numbers all the time." Genius continued to stare dead ahead, eyes vacant. "If I compiled all the victims from all the cases I solved while in ICAP, it would come to 2,274. This is nothing compared to that, but... but it's different." His voice dropped to a whisper. "These aren't numbers, Agent Prentiss."

Emily pressed her lips into a thin line and looked around the room. No, they're not. She looked back at him. He has an eidetic memory. I can't make him forget this, and it won't go away on its own. So... I have to rewrite what the image means to him. She looked around the room again, spying the almost-victim's sneakers, and she quickly got to her feet.

"Agent Prentiss?"

Emily didn't respond. She pulled a glove from her pocket and slipped it on, grabbing the shoes from the floor. She returned to Genius, sat back down, and put the sneakers on the floor in front of him.

"These belong to Maggie. She could have been another victim, but she wasn't." Emily nodded to the rest of the shoes. "Those are a memorial. But these?" She tapped the ones in front of them. "These are a trophy. Memorials are good, and they have their place, but trophies are the things you want to remember."

Genius tilted his head to the side slightly, leaning forward to get a closer look. "Why doesn't it feel the same?"

Emily gave him a questioning look, uncertain as to whether he meant numbers versus shoes or memorials versus trophies.

"Why... does it hurt so much to fail people but only feel half as good to save them?"

Emily heaved a sigh and shook her head, eyes lingering on the matted laces. "I don't know, Genius. It's something you have to train yourself to feel, I guess."

Genius nodded a few times, slowly, his mind far afield.

"Come on," she coaxed, getting to her feet. "Let's get back to the station and pack up."

Genius nodded again, but he didn't move, still sitting and staring at the shoes like he was waiting for them to do something; like he thought they could somehow fix the sick feeling he got from looking at the footwear of nearly one hundred people who had been dismembered alive and washed down a drain.

Emily crouched back down and grabbed one of the shoes, pulling the shoelace free one hole at a time. She occasionally glanced up to see if Genius had snapped out of his trance, but when she saw he hadn't, she continued her work, pulling until the string was completely free.

"Here." She spoke before she touched his arm, not wanting to startle him, and then she started to wrap the lace around his wrist. "I'll buy Maggie a new pair. I want you to have this."

Genius frowned slightly and stared at his wrist in bewilderment. "Isn't this evidence?"

"Nah." Well, it was, but they didn't really need it. No one to arrest, no one to convict, plenty of untainted shoes to collect and examine... and Genius needed that shoelace.