"Obviously," Evans said, "to control the television, the satellite, the DVD, the VHS, all that."

"Which one does which?" Kenner said.

Evans stared at the table. And suddenly he got it. "Oh my God," he said. "You're absolutely right."

He was flipping them over, one after another.

"This one's the flat panel...DVD...satellite...high def..." He stopped. There was one more. "Looks like there are two DVD controllers." The second one was stubby and black and had all the usual buttons, but it was slightly lighter than the other.

Evans pulled open the battery compartment. Only one battery was there. In place of the other was a tightly rolled piece of paper.

"Bingo," he said.

He took the paper out.

All that matters is not remote from where the Buddha sits. That's what George had said. Which meant that this paper was all that matters. That's what George had said. Which meant that this paper was all that matters.

Carefully, Evans unrolled the tiny sheet and pressed it flat on the coffee table with the heel of his hand, smoothing out the wrinkles.

And then he stared.

The paper contained nothing but columns of numbers and words:

662262.

3982293.

24FXE 62262 82293.

TERROR.

882320.

4898432.

12FXE 82232 54393.

SNAKE.

774548.

9080799.

02FXE 67533 43433.

LAUGHER.

482320.

5898432.

22FXE 72232 04393.

SCORPION.

ALT.

662262.

3982293.

24FXE 62262 82293.

TERROR.

382320.

4898432.

12FXE 82232 54393.

SEVER.

244548.

9080799.

02FXE 67533 43433.

CONCH.

482320.

5898432.

22FXE 72232 04393.

SCORPION.

ALT.

662262.

3982293.

24FXE 62262 82293.

TERROR.

382320.

4898432.

12FXE 82232 54393.

BUZZARD.

444548.

7080799.

02FXE 67533 43433.

OLD MAN.

482320.

5898432.

22FXE 72232 04393.

SCORPION.

ALT.

662262.

3982293.

24FXE 62262 82293.

TERROR.

382320.

4898432.

12FXE 82232 54393.

BLACK MESA.

344548.

9080799.

02FXE 67533 43433.

SNARL.

482320.

5898432.

22FXE 72232 04393.

SCORPION.

Evans said, "Is this this what everybody's after?" what everybody's after?"

Sarah was looking at the paper over his shoulder. "I don't get it. What does it mean?"

Evans passed the paper to Kenner. He hardly glanced at it before he said, "No wonder they were so desperate to get this back."

"You know what it is?"

"There's no doubt about what it is," Kenner said, handing the paper to Sanjong. "It's a list of geographic locations."

"Locations? Where?"

"We'll have to calculate that," Sanjong said. "They're recorded in UTM, which may mean the listing was intended for pilots." Kenner saw the blank looks on the others' faces. "The world is a globe," he said, "and maps are flat. Therefore all maps are projections of a sphere onto a flat surface. One projection is the Universal Transverse Mercator grid, which divides the globe into six-degree grids. It was originally a military projection, but some pilot charts use it."

Evans said, "So these numbers are latitude and longitude in a different form?"

"Correct. A military form." Kenner ran his finger down the page. "It appears to be several alternate sets of four locations. But in every instance the first and last locations are the same. For whatever reason..." He frowned, and stared off into space.

"Is that bad?" Sarah said.

"I'm not sure," Kenner said. "But it might be, yes." He looked at Sanjong.

Sanjong nodded gravely. "What is today?" he said.

"Tuesday."

"Then...time is very short."

Kenner said, "Sarah, we're going to need George's plane. How many pilots does he have?"