"I trust your taste," she said softly. "You order for me."

Pitt did not attempt to p.r.o.nounce the menu courses in French. He held to straight English. "For the hors d'oeuvres, we'll have your house pate with truffles, followed by vichyssoise. For the main course, the lady will have the rabbit stewed in white wine sauce, while I'll try the sweetbreads in brown b.u.t.ter sauce."

"How can you eat sweetbreads?" Loren asked, with an expression of distaste.

"I've always had a craving for good sweetbreads," Pitt replied simply. "Where were we? Oh yes, nanotechnology. From what little I know on the subject, nanotechnology is a new science that attempts to control the arrangement of atoms, enabling the construction of virtually anything possible under natural law. Molecular repairs inside human bodies will be possible and manufacturing will be revolutionized. Nothing will be impossible to produce cheaply and with quality. Incredibly tiny machines that can reproduce themselves will be programmed to create new fuels, drugs, metals, and building products that would not be possible with normal techniques. I've heard that mainframe computers can be built with a volume as small as a cubic micron. Nanotechnology has to be the wave of the future."

"I can't begin to imagine how it works."

"It's my understanding the goal is to create what nanotechnology experts call an a.s.sembler, a submicroscopic robot with articulated arms that are operated by computers. Supposedly they could construct large, atomically precise objects by controlled chemical reactions, molecule by molecule. The a.s.semblers can even be designed to replicate themselves. Theoretically, you could program your a.s.semblers to build you a new custom set of golf clubs out of metals yet to be developed, a television set of a particular shape to fit a cabinet, even an automobile or an airplane, including special fuel to run them."

"Sounds fantastic."

"The advances over the next thirty years should prove mind-boggling."

"That explains the file on Destiny's project in Antarctica," said Loren, pausing to sip her wine. "You'll find it in file 5-A."

"Yes, I see it," acknowledged Pitt. "An extensive facility for mining minerals from the sea. They have to be the first to have ever profitably exploited seawater for valuable minerals."

"It seems Destiny's engineers and scientists have developed a molecular device capable of separating minerals such as gold from seawater."

"I a.s.sume the program is successful?"

"Very," said Loren. "According to Swiss depository records obtained covertly by the CIA-I swore to them on a thousand Bibles that this information would remain strictly confidential-Destiny's deposits of gold into Swiss vaults come close to matching the h.o.a.rd at Fort Knox."

"Their retrieval of gold would have to be held on a select level, or world gold prices would plummet."

"According to my sources, Destiny's management has yet to sell so much as an ounce."

"For what purpose would they squirrel such an enormous h.o.a.rd away?"

Loren shrugged. "I have no idea."

"Maybe they've slowly and discreetly sold to keep market prices up. If they suddenly flooded the market with tons of gold, their profits would go down the toilet."

The waiter arrived with their pate with truffles. Loren took a dainty forkful into her mouth and made a gratified expression. "This is wonderful."

"Yes, it is good," Pitt agreed.

They relished the pate in silence, finishing the last morsel before Loren resumed the conversation. "Although the CIA has acc.u.mulated a ma.s.s of data on a neo-n.a.z.i movement after the war, they did not find evidence of an underground conspiracy involving Destiny Enterprises or the Wolf family."

"Yet according to this," said Pitt, holding up a stapled file of papers, "it was no secret that the loot stolen by the n.a.z.is from the treasures of Austria, Belgium, Norway, France, and the Netherlands, plus much of the gold and financial a.s.sets of the Jews, were slipped into Argentina by U-boats after the war."

Loren nodded. "Most of the gold and other hard a.s.sets were converted to currency and then diverted through central banks."

"And the holder of the funds?"

"Who else? Destiny Enterprises, soon after it was organized in 1947. What's strange is that there is no record of a Wolf on their board of directors in the early years."

"They must have taken control later," said Pitt. "I wonder how the family shoved aside the old n.a.z.i who fled Germany in 1945?"

"Good question," Loren agreed. "Over the past fifty-four years, the Destiny empire has grown to where their power influences world banks and governments to an unimaginable degree. They literally own Argentina. One of my aides has an informant who claims a significant amount of money goes into campaign funds for members of our own Congress. That's probably the reason why no government investigation of Destiny Enterprises ever got off the ground."

"Their tentacles also reach into the pockets of our honored senators and House representatives, and many of the people who have served in the White House."

Loren held up both hands. "Don't look at me. I never knowingly got a dime under the table from Destiny for my campaign funds."

Pitt threw her a foxlike look. "Really?"

She kicked him under the table. "Stop that. You know perfectly well I've never been on the take. I happen to be one of the most respected members of Congress."

"Maybe the prettiest, but your esteemed colleagues don't know you like I do."

"You're not funny."

The bowls of vichyssoise were set before them and they savored the taste, enhanced by an occasional sip of the Martin Ray Cabernet. The wine didn't take long to course through their veins and mellow their minds, and the attentive waiter was always nearby to refill their gla.s.ses.

"It's beginning to look like what the n.a.z.is couldn't achieve by ma.s.s slaughter, destruction, and warfare, they're accomplishing through economic power," said Loren.

"World domination is pa.s.se," Pitt disagreed. "The Chinese leaders might have it in the back of their heads, but as their economy builds the country into a superpower, they'll come to realize that a war will only bring it crashing down. Since Communist Russia fell, the major wars of the future will be economic. The Wolfs understand that economic power ultimately leads to political power. They have the resources to buy whatever and whoever they want. The only question is what direction are they headed in."

"Did you get anything out of the woman you apprehended last night?"

"Only that doomsday is just around the corner, and the entire human race, with the exception of the Wolf family, of course, will be wiped out when a comet strikes the earth."

"You don't buy that?" asked Loren.

"Do you?" Pitt said cynically. "A thousand doomsdays have come and gone with little more upheaval than a pa.s.sing rain shower. Why the Wolfs are disseminating such a myth is a mystery to me."

"What do they base their reasoning on?"

"The predictions of the ancient race of people known as the Amenes."

"You can't be serious," she said, bewildered. "A family as affluent and shrewd as the Wolfs buying a myth from a race that died out thousands of years ago?"

"That's what the inscriptions said in the chambers we found in the Indian Ocean and Colorado."

"Admiral Sandecker briefly mentioned your discoveries in our phone conversation before I picked you up at the airport, but you've yet to tell me about your discoveries."

Pitt made a helpless gesture with his hands. "I haven't had a chance."

"Maybe I should begin putting my affairs in order."

"Before you prepare to meet your maker, wait until we run it by astronomers who track asteroids and comets."

The soup dishes were removed and their entrees were placed on the table. The chef's presentations of both the stewed rabbit and the sweetbreads were works of art. Pitt and Loren admired the sight in antic.i.p.ation of the taste. They were not disappointed.

"The rabbit was an excellent choice," she said between mouthfuls. "It's delicious."