There wasn't a monitor in the room intact. Bits and pieces of gla.s.s were scattered over the entire main room from where the tubes had exploded after they had been obviously thrown to the floor.

Circuit boards had been pulled from the small mainframe computer. The integrated circuits had been yanked from the boards when possible. Then the multip.r.o.nged black and silver circuits had been smashed with something very heavy. Now the ICs lay like so many dead spiders after an exterminator's visit. The remaining boards from the small mainframe computer had been tossed carelessly on the floor then beaten into small pieces.

The removable disk packs used by the mainframe computer had been pulled from the disk drives. The magnetic platters lay in bent and broken pieces, an angry modern sculpture.

The coaxial cabling from the mainframe to the system console and the local area network cabling from each of the smaller computers had been disconnected. The male and female connectors had been snipped from the cables, then smashed.

My commercial laser printer lay in pieces, obviously a victim of whatever heavy instrument had destroyed the other equipment.

Plastic lined cardboard cases of what had been new floppy disks lay open. The dissolving disks were swimming in some liquid that smelled suspiciously like acetone.

Six keyboards had been disconnected from their respective computers or terminals. Several keys had been removed from the various keyboards. I made a mental note to ask if the keyboards had been left in the same order as they had been found. I stared at the keyboards for a minute before I understood. The message conveyed by the keyboards was simple. Each keyboard's missing characters formed a word. Together the message from the six keyboards read: Death comes slow to the wicked.

The remains of a Logitech and two MS mice, a scanner, and a trackball lay where they had been hurled against the walls.

A long florist's box containing more dead roses lay inside the now crippled system unit of the mainframe. A note was also scrawled on the inside of that door. Rather terse, it read simply, "Die, b.i.t.c.h."

"This is not the act of a sane person," I said, breaking the relative silence that had filled the room since I had begun my inspection.

Geoff sighed as he wrapped his arm around my shoulder. "Hold on, 'Licia."

"Can you give me a damage estimate?" Phil demanded.

I sighed. "Not yet. Let me look at the other rooms."

Geoff lightly kissed the top of my head before he released me.

I went through the clean room changing area. Several of the overalls had been torn to pieces. One was missing. Obsenities were painted onto the walls. The large thick armored window in the door was totally blacked out with paint. I looked at the locks on the heavy steel door.

"I wonder how good of a lock picker he is," I asked rhetorically, not meaning to voice the thought. Then I got out my keys. Slowly, I unlocked all three locks on the door. Hesitantly, not wanting to see the damage, I went inside.

"Thank G.o.d for small miracles. There are advantages to strong doors and excellent locks. He didn't get in here."

"You sure, 'Licia?" Geoff asked.

"Absolutely. Nothing's been moved. I always set little traps in secure areas. None of them have been tripped," I said as I left the room and locked the doors behind me. "But, I'll find someplace more secure to store the machines."

"What's so important there?" Phil demanded.

"Those machines, and the technology there, may be worth billions of dollars by the time that all of the applications of the pieces are done," I replied. "Or it may be worth nothing more than the licensing fees and sales which I've already derived from the patents and copyrights. It's still in development. Probably always will be. But it has potential to be very big."

"Big enough so that someone would be tempted to manufacture this whole threat to cover their theft of the system?" Phil asked.

"This level of security would have been pointless otherwise. Although a fat lot of good my security measures have done." I couldn't keep the anger out of my voice.

"Just thinking out loud," Phil stated.

"To answer your question: possibly. The suba.s.semblies are all patented. It's within the scope of possibility that someone could have looked at the pattern of the patents and figured out what I am up to. But, it would take a truly sick mind to come up with that tactic for industrial espionage."

"You've said yourself that this is not the act of a sane person," Phil countered.

"Thank you, Chief Mallory. Your grasp of the obvious is outstanding," I replied, trying not to focus my growing anger on him.

I looked at Geoff. "I want one of the guards here and armed for the rest of the night, and until I can get the devices moved to more secure quarters. I'm going to call Rusty and see if she will house them, if I can get them to her."

"All right, 'Licia," Geoff answered. "That sounds like a good idea."

"I have to look at the rest of the building. I don't want to, but I have to," I stated.

In the kitchenette, there was a general mess as canisters of coffee and tea were spilled all over the floor. Obsenities, again, were painted on the walls. But, I had seen worse words scrawled on the walls in LA.

I backed away from the room and went to the bathroom. The contents of the medicine cabinet had been emptied without ceremony onto the floor. There were a collection of pills which I didn't recognize. I did a quick inventory. "My hairbrush is missing. Along with a small bottle of Chanel No. 5, and a lipstick. Added are those capsules on the floor. They aren't mine."

"You're sure?" Phil asked.

"I like Chanel and always keep a bottle. I just bought a new bottle last week. Same reason for remembering the lipstick. I bought it at the same time that I got the Chanel," I explained. "And I always keep a brush here. But, I don't do drugs. You've already had the bloodwork done to prove that."

Then I went to my office. The door was unlocked, but closed. "Has anyone looked in here?"

Phil nodded affirmatively. He pushed open the door and went in first. I quickly followed.

I looked around. Then I went to a cabinet and threw open the door. Spray painted on the face of the safe were more obscenities. Quickly, I worked the seven tumbler combination and opened door to the large fire resistant safe. I looked through the contents of the safe. Then I closed the door to the safe and relocked it. "Everything's there. Nothing has been moved."

"Where do you write down the combination?" Sam asked.

"Nowhere. The only record of the combination is in my memory."

"Suppose that you forget it?" Sam asked.

I looked at him.

He shrugged. "Forget I said that," he replied with a smile.

Again, I looked around the room. I flinched when I saw the obscenities on the wall. I walked over to a now empty frame that had held a painting. I began to laugh and continued to laugh until the laughter became nearly hysterical.

Geoff came to me. "'Licia, calm down!"

"But, it's so funny, Geoff. He stole the paintings," I said as tears began to roll from my eyes. "He actually stole the paintings."

"They were valuable," Geoff said.

"Those were copies, made by the prototype of the machine in the cleanroom," I replied when I got my laughter more under control. "Absolutely worthless. And for all the mess that he made in the other room, the damage is much less than he would have thought. I have backup copies of all the files in the safe. And I keep a set of backups off site for added security. It's a set back, but not a crippling one. More of a nuisance, really. This time, this time, he miscalculated."

I walked over to my desk. Then I began to methodically search the drawers, looking for anything the least bit odd. And I found plenty odd: papers misfiled and missing, my lethally sharp surgical steel letter opener missing, and things in the wrong drawers.

I sat at the desk and made up a damage estimate. "This is rough. Will it suffice for your purposes?"

Phil looked at it. "Fine. Thank you, Al."

"Let me make a copy of it for my files?"

"You mean, he left the copier unharmed?" Phil asked. "I wonder why."

"Good question," I replied after a moment. "There's only one way to find out."

Then I pushed my chair back and walked over to the copier.

"'Licia," Geoff said as I hit the b.u.t.ton releasing the top portion of the copier.

Lying there face down on the paper feeds was a photograph. The first time that I would have used the copier, there would have been a jam. Cute. Very cute.

Phil tapped me on the shoulder. He had a removed a plastic evidence bag from the inside pocket of his coat. It covered his hand. I stepped back.

He blocked my view.

"Well?"

"You don't want to see this, Al," Phil told me. "You really don't want to see this."

"Maybe not. But, I have the right."

He had inserted the photo into another evidence bag and sealed it shut. Holding the bag by the edges, he turned around and showed me the photo.

Phil had been right. I didn't want to see it. I barely made it to the powder room before my stomach gave out.

*Chapter 36*

'Geoff'

"'Licia, sweetheart, are you doing better?" I asked from outside the closed door of the bathroom after I had heard the sound of her retching cease.

The toliet flushed. And there was the sound of running water as she obviously tried to clean up.

"Stupid question," she answered as she opened the door. She buried her face in my shoulder for a moment. "Did you see the picture?"

"I saw it."

"It's one of the images from my dreams, Geoff. I saw that in my dreams. How could he have known?"

Phil asked, "Who did you tell about the dreams?"

"Only Colleen," 'Licia said as she turned to face him.

"Colleen Kelly?" Phil asked.

"Yes," 'Licia answered. "I've been seeing her."

Phil nodded. "Professionally?"

"Professionally. This situation is rather tough, you know," she said.

"Easy, Al. No one is judging you," Phil said.

"Let's go home, 'Licia."

"Sounds great to me. The sooner I get out of here, the better. But, we ought to make a run over to the duplication facility, just to make sure that there is no damage over there," she said.

After we had walked through the duplication/shipping facility and she was certain that there was nothing wrong there, we were driven back to the house.

"I won't say that it has been pleasant, guys," she told all of us. "But, thank you for being here for me."

Sam turned around from the front seat and looked at her. "Are you okay, Doc?"

"Not really, Sam," 'Licia said as she laid her head on my shoulder. "Not really."

I heard the shower shut off as I sat reading, early that morning. The clock on the fireplace mantle in my bedroom had just chimed three. I listened for her door to open.

But, instead, a few minutes later, 'Licia came into my room. She was wrapped in her long quilted robe.

I put down my book and stood. "I'm sorry, 'Licia."

She nodded tightly. "Me, too," she said.

I crossed over to her. "Would you like for me to hold you for a while?"

She nodded again. "If you don't mind. I'm feeling fragile."

"You need to rest," I said as I wrapped my arm around her waist. "Come to bed."

She finally slept. I looked at her for the longest time, before I fell asleep. I would have given anything for her not to be going through this. Yet I was powerless to stop any of it. The situation felt as though we were on a giant roller coaster, up, down, thrown sideways, by sudden turns, twists, and plunges.

I've never liked roller coasters.

*Chapter 37*

'Diary, May 21'