He could take Orville's identity and employment record, and continue his career as a research engineer somewhere else in the country. He did. He worked several places, finally coming to work for Rexlo Research. Almost at once he met and fell in love with an attractive girl. They were quickly married. It was a year before he knew her real character.
He could divorce her. He put it off. Shortly after that he rented this apartment under his real name, feeling sure that after five years it would be safe to do so.
He didn't know what he would do now. He had planned on simply dropping out of sight in the near future. That's what he said.
But I could see in his eyes that he had another, more sinister plan. Murder. Only, he had been putting it off as he had always put everything off.
"What are you going to do?" he asked as I stood up and went to the door.
I looked at him, then around at my apartment, but mine no longer. The supreme conviction that I was Fred Martin had left me.
"I don't know," I said. "Probably nothing. Come to work tomorrow and say nothing. If I ever want to talk about it I'll tell you. Until then, forget that I know."
I opened the door and went out into the hall, and closed it behind me. I looked at the familiar walls of the hallway, at the somewhat worn carpeting. And in some intangible way it was no longer familiar.
I was bewildered. I had nothing more to cling to. I was neither Fred Martin nor Orville Snyder—nor Dave Thordsen. I wasn't anyone, and yet I had to be someone. It was impossible to be, and not be someone!