96 Souls Page #7

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I like something more intense.

These groups don't play

at the clubs near campus.

Not here.

At hung Lo's, on the Westside.

Never heard of it.

You should check

it out some time.

If you're into guys.

What?

What would make you say

something like that to me?

Hung Lo's, it's

a gay club I like.

Oh.

I'm so happy.

I thought you were talking

about that Chinese restaurant,

hung Lao's.

No.

No, hung lo.

It's a place to get

down and let loose.

Get loose.

Would you like to hear a

song I'm thinking in my head?

She's not your girlfriend.

She's not your girlfriend.

It's ok, man.

Relax.

Gentlemen, please come this way.

That's mine.

That's mine.

It's mine.

Thank you.

No problem.

Thank you.

Gentlemen.

You see that row

of records here?

Our people went through them in

preparation for digitization.

We did not find any records of

what happened to Nina Orleans.

Nothing.

What was most

likely her outcome?

Most likely, she

wasn't discharged.

That rarely has happened.

She probably passed on.

She was pretty bad off.

Someone in her condition

doesn't have a long life.

I'm sorry I couldn't have more

definitive news or happier news

for that matter.

It's ok.

Thank you for your

generous time.

Anything to help Brenda's group.

Her modernization of the

state's health services system

is most appreciated.

Some people were here for

years, and no one even

knew who they were.

You lose your mind.

They lose your identity.

This suck... oh, sorry, dude.

It's ok.

It's ok.

She might be with

the lost souls.

What's that, my friend?

She might be with

the lost souls.

Well put.

Downstairs, in

the library of ash.

It used to be, when someone

died here at Teargarden,

sometimes there was

no one to claim them.

They were cremated.

And their remains

were stored here.

Those are the lost souls.

In the cans.

They call it the library of ash.

This is extraordinarily

generous, Clayton.

I don't understand.

How is this possible?

There's a sword

of Damocles hanging

over the entire

pharmaceutical industry.

It's being kept quiet.

But the therapeutic

power of drugs

has been steadily waning

for several years now.

We're losing the battle

to help the mind, William.

There's a worldwide scramble

for the next psychoactive.

Yes, but how does this

tie into Jack's research.

He may have stumbled onto a

gateway to a major advancement.

Please, sit, Dr. sutree.

You and I are

alike in some ways.

We both started with a childhood

fascination with the sciences.

It came from observing

the things in life

that are full of whimsy.

It's very seductive,

especially to a young mind.

And you and I, unlike

the average Joe,

we took things a step further.

We observed the whimsical, but

we backed it up with facts.

That's what science is.

So here's where we are.

I've secured all the

funding you'll ever

need to continue your research.

You'll have the time and

the supplies required.

What's he mean, Billy?

It's right here, Jack.

It's the largest

amount ever granted

in the history of

this department.

But because of the,

let's say, mercurial

behavior that's been reported,

there are conditions.

Ah.

Conditions.

Does it matter?

You practically have carte

Blanche to finally understand

what you discovered.

But where does this lead?

What's the end result, Redfield?

Everything will be

under your direction.

You will receive full credit.

Who owns the polio vaccine?

What?

The polio vaccine...

Who owns the patent?

No one.

It wasn't for filling

the coffers of some giant

multinational.

It was given to the world.

And it made the

world a better place.

You know, for such a brilliant

man, you can be very naive.

That's occurred because

it was determined

that the national foundation

for infantile paralysis

could not obtain a patent.

The real irony is that

Jonas Salk's discovery

would have benefited man even

more if it had been patented.

Why does every discovery have

to be motivated by a cash grab?

Jonathan swift said it best.

Money is useful.

Love of it, hazardous.

There's nothing new here, Jack.

You know this is

the way it works.

Your hero, swift... you know

he had Meniere's disease.

Untreatable in his day.

Now we have meclizine

and Diazepam

to help people cope with it.

There's no denying drugs

have benefited mankind.

But I've been in the trenches

of your broad marketplace,

the nursing homes where your

miracle drugs are administered.

You know what?

It's not working out too well.

We have zombies lying

in hospital beds.

Basic cable their caregiver.

Those poor people.

Desires that have been neutered.

The system has become a

legitimized Pablo Escobar,

and you unflinchingly supply

them, because it's big money.

You've replaced cups of

hot tea and warm kisses

with millions of plastic

pill organizers demanding

to be filled.

What really caused

the great social shift

that we have witnessed?

It's time the windfalls were

more human and less financial.

Don't avoid the question.

Who put all the

people in the homes?

The families.

Brothers, sisters, aunts,

uncles, and the children.

They are the reason

for the avalanche

that has uncontrollably spilled

into countless rest homes.

But you will never

in a million years

find an individual

snowflake ever

taking responsibility for

their part in that avalanche.

You have a mother in a

nursing home, don't you?

Can't go crying to your

mommy about this letdown.

You, Dr. sutree, are one

sorry, sanctimonious snowflake.

Jack, don't!

Don't, Jack!

You, sir, have just assaulted

a university board member.

Your boy.

Hi, Mel.

My car just stranded me about

a half mile from our place.

I know we agreed to

our separate spaces,

but I got to stop by and get

something out of the garage.

I promise I'll leave

as soon as I'm done.

[Music - Marie Baraton

and Pierre Andre Athane,

["a Paris les Jours sans"]

I'm done, Mel.

I've lost everything.

What?

Maybe the job.

The discovery.

My colleagues.

I remember when I

visited Notre dame.

We had the sight of the

cathedral on our right.

And on the left, we

crossed a bridge.

And we ended up on

the ILE Saint-Louis.

And further down

on the left, you

took me to the best

crepe shop I have ever

been to, filled with locals.

Neither one of us knew anything

about where to eat in Paris.

But you had a sense, Jack.

You had a natural

instinct about things.

I don't know, you followed

the sense in the air

and tracked the

movements of the locals.

You observed the looks on

the faces of the people

exiting the bistros.

And you processed all

of that to discover

exactly the right

places for us to go to.

Who wouldn't fall in

love with a scientist who

could muster his

abilities to provide

his woman with a decent meal?

Who wouldn't fall in love?

Thanks.

Still there.

My other charger's in the Alfa.

Your Alfa Naufrago.

You finally ready to get

rid of that hunk of metal?

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