Chapter 13

When the door to the vault swung open, Henry Gale met Sayid's eyes without flinching. But when he observed that the doctor was standing behind the interrogator, Gale seemed suddenly afraid of the Iraqi, and he backed himself against the wall, sliding down its length to sit on the floor. He drew his knees up protectively against his chest and stuttered, "What….what do you want with me now?"

Jack raised a hand in a conciliatory gesture. "Don't worry," he said. "Don't worry. I'm not going to let him hurt you. I'll be here the entire time."

Sayid suppressed his annoyance and stepped into the vault. Jack followed him, and then Locke, too, tried to enter, but the doctor spread both hands out to prevent him. "Too many cooks, John," he said.

Locke looked at Sayid with eyes that seemed to expect the Iraqi to admit him, but Sayid only nodded. It was bad enough that Jack insisted on accompanying him; he certainly did not want a third man hindering his interrogation. He saw how Locke's mouth tightened as he turned away and closed the door behind him.

Sayid stood in a corner, leveled his gaze at Gale, and tried to ignore Jack's presence. "When were you born?"

"Why should that matter?" asked Jack from beside him.

Sayid shot a withering glance at him, and the doctor rolled his eyes and nodded his head as though to say he would humor Sayid and remain silent. Jack walked to another corner and rested against the wall, but he continued to watch the exchange like a high school coach who was waiting for his star player to slip up.

The litany of questions continued: "When were you married?"; "How long did you know your wife?"; "When did you begin flying hot air balloons?"; "What was the last book you read?"; "What was the last movie you saw?" Sayid was attempting to establish a base line and trying to learn Gale's expressions. That way, the interrogator would be able to evaluate the truth of Gale's responses to more serious questions.

Yet Henry Gale never seemed to be recalling information. He did not look up before answering; he did not look to the side; he did not look down. He simply stared straight ahead at Sayid as he answered, as if everything he said were rehearsed. And that, Sayid thought, would make sense if he were borrowing his entire life story from fiction. Every word the man spoke was a lie.

"What is my name?" Sayid asked at last.

Here Gale's eyes did shift upward, so briefly and so slightly that, had Sayid been blinking, he would have missed the movement. Gale answered, "Sayid Jarrah. I remember because it was such an…interesting introduction." And then he glanced at Jack and back at Sayid. In a tremulous voice—Sayid thought a falsely tremulous voice—he continued, "Why are you asking me these things? You have never told me just who you think I am."

Sayid took four steps closer. "Stand up," he commanded in a suddenly harsh voice. He felt Jack draw up behind him. Even without seeing the doctor he could envision the warning look on his face. Sayid stiffened. He did not turn, but Jack must have interpreted his tension as an order, because Sayid felt the doctor step back.

Gale drew himself up slowly from the floor. Sayid thought the man was pretending to experience more pain than he actually felt.

"You are lying," Sayid said. His voice was calm though cold. There was no rage in it this time, no quivering. He did not repeat the statement.

"I…I don't know why you think—"

"You say you came here in a hot air balloon," stated Sayid. "The balloon had a yellow envelope and a happy face at the top of the envelope."

"Yes," answered Gale cautiously.

"Balloons built for long trips such as the one you were undertaking are usually coated with a silver material made from Mylar. It is necessary to repel the sun and heat."

"Yes," said Gale, not dropping Sayid's gaze. "It's unusual, I admit. Everyone thought I was eccentric for going on the journey, but the material is still protective."

"You said your balloon was equipped with a transponder. Why was it not equipped with more? Radio? Video? Tracking equipment? A weather station?"

"I…we were feeling adventurous. My wife and I…my wife…we were trying…" Gale stuttered as though he was too sad to speak the words, but Sayid did not believe there was any true grief in the man's heart. "We were trying to recapture the romantic adventures of the past, you know, the kind you read about. We didn't want too much modern technology."

Sayid stepped away from Gale and back into the corner. "I do not believe there is a balloon," he said. "I believe you have manufactured your entire story. Have you read the Wizard of Oz?"

Gale laughed nervously. "Yeah. Yeah. I know. I've got the same name as Dorothy's uncle. Believe me, I've been ribbed plenty for that."

"And the balloon, and the Midwest…just a coincidence?"

"I'm from Minnesota, not Omaha. The wizard was from Omaha."

"If there is truly a balloon," Sayid said casually, looking down at the floor and leaning back against the wall, "then tell me where it is. Relate to me all of the landmarks that surround it. Draw me a map." Now he looked up abruptly at Gale. "Draw me a map to your wife's grave."

He expected Gale to be intimidated by this request. He was certain the man was lying and that the fear of discovery must now make him flinch at least a little. But Gale only nodded. "Okay," he said quietly. "Okay. I'll draw you a map with landmarks, but I don't know where I am now. I can't draw you a map from here."

"You do not need to," said Sayid. "We will find it based on your landmarks. We have explored some of this island. We will find the balloon and the grave, if they are there. If you are telling the truth."

"I'll need pencil and paper," replied Gale.

Sayid nodded coolly. "Jack."

"Uh-uh, Sayid. You go get it. I'll stay here."

Sayid's eyes were weary as he rolled them in Jack's direction, and he fought down a sigh. But he left the vault.

When Sayid exited the vault and reached for a notepad and pen, he heard Ana's voice rising from near the computer: "Does Jack know you're coming to me with this?"

And then he heard the last part of Locke's low response: "…man in my hatch, and I want him out."

"Your hatch, John?" Sayid asked, walking over to the pair.

Locke appeared startled by his presence, but then his usual calm demeanor returned. He opened his mouth to speak, but Ana interrupted him. "You been talkin' to Gale?"

"Yes," Sayid answered, his eyes still trained on Locke. But Locke only looked to the side and walked away somewhere deeper into the hatch, leaving Sayid alone with Ana.

"Did he say anything?" Ana asked.

"Enough for me to ascertain that he is lying."

Ana nodded to the notepad and pen he was holding. "Didn't know you Iraqi-style interrogators took notes."

"He is going to draw me a map to the balloon, and I will follow it to prove, once and for all, that he is lying."

Ana kept looking at the paper and pen in Sayid's hands. Finally she grabbed it and strutted towards the vault. He pursued her quickly.

While Sayid was gone, Henry Gale had looked gratefully at the doctor and had said, "Thank you. Thank you for ensuring that he didn't start beating me again. I have no idea who you people think I am…but that man…that man made no sense; nothing he said made any sense, and he just kept beating me and beating me and saying the same thing over and over…"

Jack sniffed and nodded as he stepped closer. "I know. I'm sorry about that. It was out of my control. But nobody—nobody is going to do that to you again as long as I'm here, you understand? Nobody."

Gale shrugged weakly. "As long as you're here," he said quietly. "But those other two—that fellow Locke and that Arab—they could ignore your desires. They don't seem to like you much. They could come in when you're not around—"

"That's not going to happen, okay?" insisted Jack. "I'm not going to let it happen."

"You let it happen once," said Gale. "I don't know why you let them make the decisions like that. You're the one who has the skill to heal people. I don't understand why you let them order you around."

Jack's breath was heavy as he replied, "No one orders me around. We had a disagreement, and they…they circumvented me, but I don't take orders from—"

The door swung open and Jack abruptly stopped talking. He pursed his lips together and was surprised to see Ana at the door. He looked behind her to Sayid. The Iraqi followed Jack's eyes to Gale's, and suspicion twined itself like a serpent about his thoughts. Something had transpired, he was certain, but what?

Ana handed the notepad and pen to Gale. "Draw me a map," she insisted, "and I'll find your balloon."

When she had obtained her map, Ana left the room, and Sayid again followed her. He had to grab her wrist to turn her to face him. "Give me the map," he commanded when she was face to face with him.

"Uh-uh," she replied. "I'm finding this balloon."

"You believe there is a balloon?" he said, the anger rising in his voice. "You believe he is telling the truth? You believe him instead of me?"

"Look, Sayid," she said, wrenching free from his grip. "I don't doubt your abilities, but I didn't doubt mine either when I threw Nathan in that pit. And I turned out to be wrong. I was planning to torture him. I was planning to do whatever I needed to do to get him to talk. And he wasn't even with them."

"Perhaps he was," suggested Sayid.

Ana was stunned by his response. She couldn't break her gaze from the Iraqi's eyes. "What do you mean?" she asked.

Sayid shrugged slightly. "Why do you think Goodwin killed him?"

"Goodwin told me he killed him because if I started torturing him, I'd find out he wasn't the spy, and then I'd start looking for someone else."

Sayid raised his eyes in a gesture of doubt. "Well that in itself is an unlikely explanation. Why would Goodwin kill Nathan to avoid discovery? The very fact that Nathan had been killed would send you looking for another spy. If Goodwin was truly trying to avoid discovery, then killing Nathan was a poor means to do so."

"Then why would he kill him?" Ana asked. It was the first time she had considered that her actions had not been a failure.

"To prevent him from revealing something to you."

Ana looked down at the map she held in her hands. "Do you really think so?"

"I only think it is possible," he replied. He reached out cautiously and placed his hand around the notebook, and then he pulled.

She held it firmly. "And it's possible," she said, "that Gale isn't lying. It's possible he's just another innocent victim of this island. It's possible we've kept him locked up for days for nothing." She looked down at Sayid's hand on the notebook. She yanked the map out of his grasp. She held it up, shook it in his face, and said, "This…this is my chance to know for sure about this guy. I'm not letting you make the same mistake I was about to make. I have to do this. Can't you understand that?"

"Then I am coming with you."

Her expression was insolent but she consented. "Fine."

"Where are you going now?" he called after her as she began to make her way out of the hatch.

"To see a man about a gun. I'm not going far into that jungle unarmed."