Married. That was a Savage concept, a relic of the Before times. It was also the only familiar notion Molly had presented to him so far. Clinging to it felt comforting, which was why Henry shook his head and patted his pockets, movements still shaky, until he felt the reassuring weight of his soma dispenser.
The device was sleek chrome, similar in shape and length to a pen. Henry clicked the button at one end and a tiny ball of soma slipped out the other. This, Henry slipped onto his tongue, his pulse humming with need. It didn't take long. A few seconds later, the calming effects of the drug took hold, allowing Henry to consider his situation without the interfering rush of agitated feeling.
The blood drying on his skin and his clothes was a disruption in his visual field, nothing more. He was, somehow, impossibly, no longer expiring. The woman sitting beside him in her voluminous dress did not appear to be a threat. "Thank you," Henry thanked her, just to reduce that likelihood.
The receiver was still dangling against the side of the reception desk. It was this detail Henry finally latched onto: "The voice on the phone said this is a hotel. Why am I here?"