Gregg Denney: Some bitch gets herself knocked up and says she wants to have my rabid baby. She wants to see, can she go all the way to a baby without curing her infection. I don't know what you're talking about.

Hudson Baker: Amber was always telling me, "Rant Casey is the father of my rabies…" Like Amber met him and knew him and everything. Their love was, like, sealed with a kiss.

Gregg Denney: Maybe I put babies inside some daytime bitch, but, no, I never had the rabies for real. I only let on I was infected, to keep me in clean tail.

Hudson Baker: Amber was living with Gregg Denney by then. She expected her baby to be, like, part man, part animal. Like, one time she told me, "I'm taking human evolution one giant step backward…"

Phoebe Truffeau, Ph.D.: As with the Rant serotype of the Lyssavirus, most modern epidemics have «jumped» from animals to human beings: SARS being a form of bovine Coronavirus, or cattle "shipping fever"; Creutzfeld-Jakob disease being the human form of bovine spongiform encephalopathy, or "mad cow disease"; and acquired immunodeficiency syndrome most likely being derived from the simian immunodeficiency virus.

From the Field Notes of Green Taylor Simms: Once he'd died, or at least disappeared, Rant Casey became a very effective bogeyman for our government. Anytime the federal government needed to distract public attention from its own incompetence, the surgeon general simply announced a new development in the rabies epidemic, or the hunt for Rant, or both.

Neddy Nelson: Don't you see how there is no actual rabies epidemic? Can't you see how Rant Casey is just a political scapegoat? Do you really accept that Lee Harvey Oswald acted alone? Or that James Earl Ray really was a "lone gunman" when he assassinated Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.? How about Sirhan Sirhan? Or John Wilkes Booth?

Do you really believe one man caused an entire nationwide rabies outbreak?

Gregg Denney: A bitch with her hormones exploding and some serious brain damage happening from the rabies, that sounds like nothing I'd want to hang around. Forget it. People I heard of can carry the spit around for years; could be she was one of those.

Phoebe Truffeau, Ph.D.: Other terms for superspreaders include «superinfectors» or "supershedders." Due to the deadly, invisible fog of saliva and mucous droplets that surround these infectious individuals, epidemiologists sometimes refer to them as "cloud cases."

Neddy Nelson: Doesn't it scare you that the Emergency Health Powers Act now preempts all legal rights of the individual?

Shot Dunyun: The way you lock up all your enemies without charging them with any crime, or providing lawyers, it's called a quarantine. Doctors are the new judge and jury. Disease is the new weapon of mass destruction.

Neddy Nelson: Why do you think every political radical gets «diagnosed» as rabid, then locked up until his inevitable death is announced? Don't you see how this is legalized assassination?

Hudson Baker: When I couldn't help it any longer, I called Mr. and Mrs. Nye and told them everything about Amber and the chewing-gum notes and Party Crashing, and they went and hired a detective.

Only, when they went to where Gregg Denney lived, Amber was gone.

Neddy Nelson: How can you say Rant Casey overreacted? How's an intelligent person supposed to react when he discovers that he's merely the product of a corrupt and evil system? How do you continue to live after you learn that your every breath, every dollar you pay in taxes, every baby you conceive and love will only perpetuate some evil system?

How do you live knowing your every cell and drop of blood are part of the big evil?

40–Final Connections

Wallace Boyer (Car Salesman): Right now, if you scratched your ear, I'd scratch my ear. If you cocked your head to one side, I'd cock my head—pacing you—selling you with eye contact and proof that I care.

I'd say, "Look here" — another embedded command.

If you said, "Time travel is impossible," I'd bridge your objection, saying, "Yes, many people claim it's impossible, but didn't people use to say the Wright brothers would never get off the ground?"

Echo Lawrence (Party Crasher): The last time I saw Green Taylor Simms, we were driving a Mattress Night. Green was roping a mattress to the roof of his red Daimler. We were pit-stopping before the window opened, to fill the tank, standing, leaning against the side of the car, parked next to the gas pumps. Green stood in his pinstriped suit, poking the nozzle and holding the trigger. You could smell gasoline and deep-fried chicken.

I hadn't called Shot about tonight, just so I could ride alone with Green. And, standing there, I told Green Taylor Simms that Rant's dad, Chester, had come to town.

Watching the numbers spin on the gas pump, money and gallons piling up, Green said, "Tell me, how delusional is the elder Mr. Casey?"

Driving by are Torinos and Vegas and Toronados, all with mattresses roped to their roofs. Faces in those cars all turned to look at us with our mattress. People stand on every street corner you can see, a thumb out for a ride. Some people wave a few bills for gas money.

And I told Green Taylor Simms what Chester Casey had told me.

Green said nothing. Just listened. Watching the other teams watch us.

From DRVR Radio Graphic Traffic: This bulletin just in, and it looks like another repeat redundant case of déjà-vu. Three police vehicles are in high-speed pursuit of a burning car, westbound on the Madison Beltway.

This is Tina Something with your Rubberneck Report…

Wallace Boyer: It helps, Chet Casey told me, to start simple. Picture time less like a river than a book. Or a record. Something finished. Like a movie, with a beginning, middle, and end, but already done and complete.

Then picture time travel as nothing more than knocking your half-read book to the floor and losing your place. You pick up the book and open the pages to a scene too early or late, but never exactly where you'd been reading.

Echo Lawrence: And, still listening, Green Taylor Simms left the gas nozzle pumping, walked around the car, and leaned inside the driver's window. He said, "I'm listening," and he pushed in the dashboard cigarette lighter.

That's how old his car was. None of us smoked.

Shot Dunyun (Party Crasher): Rant said once that you perceive time the way the people in power want you to. Like it's a speed limit on some freeway. Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny. Like time is the Tooth Fairy we're brought up to believe. As a path or a river that only moves in one direction.

But speed limits change. Santa Claus is fake.

Rant told me that time's not the way we think. Time wraps. It loops. It stops and starts. And that's just the little bit he's found out. Most folks, Rant says, move through time like a flightless bird on land. Rant says that view of time was set up so folks won't live forever. It's the planned obsolescence we've all agreed to.