Row, Row, Row Your Boat
Gently Down The Stream
Merrily, Merrily, Merrily, Merrily
Life Is But A Dream

I thought about it, and he had a point. But if Synchro knew something about what had happened to her, and had information about her medical history on file, it might implicate them in having caused her amnesia and, more recently, her disappearance. They wouldn't claim to know anything, I was sure of it, and would stick to denials of everything. That's how companies like that work, anyway, isn't it? Deny everything? Send all inquiries to the lawyers? It was happening already in everything I'd seen from the press and federal investigations of the company. I had no weight at all compared to the kind of leverage the bigger entities could muster, and I knew that they were under absolutely no obligation to assist a stranger and two of his friends who walked up to the front desk requesting probably classified and sensitive information. I looked at Hunter and at Janine. We all needed a shower, already. Tomorrow we'd look even more disheveled, after sleeping for a few hours on the ground in the middle of the woods.

I shook my head.

"It won't work. They won't talk, I'm sure of it," I stated, adding that "We have to find a way to get someone on the inside to talk to us, once we get there. Someone who is willing to give us the info that we need and who knows where to look to find it. I'm open to your ideas if you can come up with something more effective."