The Black Box Page #4

not your responsibility.

Another word you need to learn:

Ethics. E-thics.

You bend over so much, you need

a cervical collar to straighten up.

You don't respect the workers,

you humiliate them.

Taking advantage of your small power.

Terrorizing people who

don't have a choice.

So to summarize:

You're a big jerk, f*** you,

your contracts, and your company.

So? How did it go?

He was very understanding.

If basements get you hot,

we'll have to rent a cellar.

Take care.

You're allowed to phone, you know?

- I love you.

- I love you.

Good.

How are you feeling, Mr. Seligman?

Very well.

Going home went smoothly?

No problems?

No problems.

Why should I have problems?

Why do you want to see me?

A simple check-up.

A precoma always destructures identity.

It can rebuild, but there can be issues.

Meaning what?

Meaning, you might have had

an uncommunicative phase...

Hallucinations, feelings of

persecution, it happens.

I'm talking, not paranoid,

not acting strangely...

I have all my reason.

Reason makes us believe what's

most convenient, Mr. Seligman.

But the subconscious

is brutal with reality.

I wanted to make sure you didn't

have problems in your surroundings.

I'm very well in my surroundings,

very well indeed.

Well good then.

I was worried about you, your

recovery was very agitated, painful.

You spoke a great deal.

I recorded you.

It's all here.

Take it. It's yours.

Everything you said in those hours,

direct access to your subconscious.

A kind of black box.

Take it.

It's very interesting, you'll see.

- Faster! Faster!

- You don't have to pedal!

Faster, we're late!

Faster, we're late!

Mom!

Mom!

Yvan didn't die because of me.

- Nobody ever said that!

- I did, for the last 30 years!

I was wrong, that's

not what happened!

There was a car! A car

caused the accident.

There were no reports of a car...

- You never mentioned a car.

- I was in shock!

- You weren't injured, you we're lucky.

- Stop with the luck!

Luck would have been

not having an accident.

But you were unharmed.

Unharmed...

I thought it was all forgotten,

but it's still in there.

I swallowed all the guilt

and it festered inside me.

Arthur!

It wasn't me, there was a car!

the papers must have printed

something about the accident..

Nothing at all.

There was an investigation,

what were the findings?

I don't know, your mother called me.

I got to the hospital 2 hours later.

How 2 hours later?

You were in the U.S.

and returned in 2 hours?

From Texas?

- You were in Texas, no?

- Well yes.

We got a postcard from Dad.

You weren't in Texas.

- But I was.

- You just don't remember the details...

You father spent a month there,

they were looking for oil.

We never found any.

- Texas doen't exist.

- Why do you say that?

- Dad, what's the capital of Texas?

- Arthur!

Wichita?

No, it's Austin.

Why all these questions?

Are you paranoid my boy?

Texas doesn't exist.

You never went to Texas.

Not for a month, not 3 days.

You left, sure, but not as far.

And not alone.

You got there 2 hours later.

You lied to me,

and you're still lying.

You left with another woman.

That was your Texas.

Lost your head over a woman.

This is Soraya. She works with me.

That's none of your business,

you were too young to understand.

Am I old enough now?

I lost my head.

She was 20.

Then...when Yvan died,

I came back.

And I forgave. So stop torturing us.

- Hello ma'am.

- What a little sweetheart!

Can I have a kiss?

Texas doesn't exist.

He wants me to fall. To die.

RP-50 RP-50

Mr. Seligman.

If I give you a partial plate,

can you find the driver's name?

Well, it's 2 A.M.

- You are a policeman?

- Yes, but it's 2 A.M.

You have this in your computers.

Sure, I suppose.

- What's going on?

- Go back to bed.

- What's your name again?

- Koskas. Marc. Yes.

Mr. Koskas, no guesswork,

I need certainties.

You have this kind of info?

Yes or no?

- Yes.

- Very good.

It gets complicated, since the car

in question is no longer on the road.

- For many years now.

- How many? - 30 years.

Well that's...I don't want to lose hope,

but partial number, no car model...

and it's also 2 A.M.

It was high off the ground like a 4X4.

- 30 years ago? A Jeep perhaps?

- Yes. possibly.

To investigate this, I'll need

a warrant signed by a judge.

Or you can file a complaint, but...

Don't try and confuse me with

judicial jargon, I'm asking a favor.

Just a name. Period.

- O.K.?

- No, not O.K.

Such a search can be traced and

I risk administrative sanctions.

Fine.

He wants me to fall...

Fynoil buys out ACGroup by March 24th...

Fynoil buying ACGroup? Nonsense.

A fly can bite an elephant, not eat it.

- Impossible, my friend.

- Why impossible?

- Do you know what ACGroup is?

- No.

- And Fynoil?

- Neither, never of them.

I'll explain:
ACGroup is a

powerful oil company,

tentacles in all sectors: agribusiness,

computers, subsidiaries like TRC, Comeco...

- Comeco?

- Yes, you know them?

- Yes.

- And so?

So nothing.

Yes Jeanne...See you buddy.

Come in.

Yes...I'll call you back.

It was tough what you asked me,

this was before our computers.

I had to use older archives,

they asked a bunch of questions...

Alright...we're screwed?

Range Rover licence 445 RP-50 enough?

That's the owner's name.

Brigitte Marchand?

- It wasn't a woman.

- Anyway, she's been dead 10 years.

But more importantly: The car was

reported stolen the night before.

- No, you can't come through here.

- I have to see the psychologist.

Move it, sir.

What's going on? She's isn't here?

The one treating me, forgot her name...

- Dr. Brenner?

- Brenner, yes.

- There are cops in her office.

- She was assaulted.

- By whom?

- Don't know, they're investigating.

Is she hurt?

I heard she'll pull through,

but I don't have details.

- What's wrong?

- I don't know.

I feel...can't really explain...

- Relax, calm down.

- Someone broke into my home.

Everything I said disappeared,

but it's all right here.

- What's there?

- Everything is! Me!

You know about the accident

with my brother when I was a child?

You parents told me...

For 30 years I was told I was lucky,

but that's not true!

That it was nobody's fault,

not true either!

I feel guilty. Guilty to be alive!

The lucky one!

Not a great place to be in,

rather uncomfortable.

I see his feet and his legs,

but can't picture the face. Nothing.

- Whose face?

- The guy! RP-50, who knocked us over...

I can't see his face.

What would that change?

Everything! I'd be freed!

I need to see his face and I will!

Sorry.

There might be a solution:

Did you return where it happened?

- No.

- I'm no shrink, no guarantees, but...

It could trigger a memory.

Lights might go off, recreating

the scene, standing in the same place...

Memory feeds from the 5 senses,

maybe a scent, textures of objects.

One shouldn't press

too close to the truth.

Our wings get burned.

Forgetting is a vital need.

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