Mike smiled.

"Let me call in some favors," said Reggie. "I think I can have some boots on the ground there inside of ninety minutes. I'll ask them to defer to you on everything, no questions asked."

"That would be fantastic."

"I can't make any promises."

"Believe me, anything will help. Make sure they know they're blowing up something very solid. a.s.sume it's a tank, just to be safe. And they'll probably need some kind of timers or remote-control detonator."

Reggie nodded. "Are you going to be okay?"

"Honestly?" The ants carried out images of the bugman and pa.s.sages from the Koturovic book and the view he'd glimpsed through the Albuquerque Door. "I don't know. This could go really bad. For all of us."

"And here I am worried about if I'll have a job in a few days."

"Yeah, well...if they fire you, dinner's on me next time."

"If I get thrown under the bus for this, I'm taking you with me. And beating you senseless next time."

"Well," Mike said, "I really hope I'm around to be beaten senseless."

Reggie bit off a response. "Take care of yourself, jerk."

Mike shrugged. "We're trying to save the world. It comes with some risk."

FORTY-EIGHT.

Jamie leaned against the guard hut. "Are you okay?"

Mike looked back at her. "How so?"

"Arthur says you had to tell Reggie he was from another universe."

"He'd figured it out on his own. He handled it well."

She nodded. "All the cool people do."

He turned to the road again.

Jamie nodded and flipped her quarter. "Think he's going to blame all of this on you?"

"Pretty sure, yeah. He needs to pin it on someone. Arthur's too famous, and they need him. He can target me but then protect me from the worst of it."

"Will he?"

"Yeah. I think he's used to doing it. Protecting me."

She raised an eyebrow.

Mike shrugged. "Some things he said. He kept asking how I was doing, if I could handle this. I think his Mike's a bit more fragile."

"Maybe he won't need to pin it on anyone."

He glanced at her. "Did you meet the board?"

"Yeah. Bob had the flu, remember. Other-dimensional flu."

"Just checking. How do you think they're going to respond when Reggie tells them we're shut down and they can't salvage anything because we blew up the Door to stop an invasion of locust-men from another dimension?"

She managed a weak smile. "So you're really unemployed now. No high school, no DARPA."

He chuckled. "Yeah I guess so."

"Arthur would probably hire you."

"That'd be great, if we weren't about to blow up his life's work."

She smiled and flipped her coin again.

"And look at that," said Mike. "Eighty-eight minutes exactly."

A quartet of Humvees roared down the street. Each one was painted in desert camo patterns. Mike had never understood camouflage as a kid. Even then, his pattern recognition skills were too strong for it to confuse him in the slightest.

The heavy vehicles turned into the entrance and screeched to a stop. Two of them flanked Mike and Jamie on either side. The other two stopped in front of them blocked the northbound lane of the road.

It struck Mike that it could be an offensive or defensive formation, depending on which side of it someone ended up on.

Four Marines piled out of each Humvee. Each one was dressed in full combat gear, with body armor, helmet, and a weapon that was held ready, if not up. Patches on the center of their chests gave their name and rank. Mike felt an odd twist in his gut at how many of them looked only slightly older than his students. Their faces were a mix of determination and confusion as they looked at him and Jamie and the bland building behind them.

"I thought there'd be more," she said under her breath.

"So did I."

Pattern recognition kicked in as one of the Marines stepped forward. A man closer to Mike's age with captain's markings and the name Black on his patch. He glanced at Jamie and then Mike. "Are you Mr. Erikson?"

"That's me."

One of the younger men closer to the Humvees twitched. "Mr. Erikson?"

The ants carried out names, dates, and images. A grade of C+ on an Emily d.i.c.kinson quiz. Two overheard conversations in the halls and another one at graduation. He managed a small smile. "h.e.l.lo, Jim. Or do I need to say Sergeant Duncan?"

The captain glanced back. "You know this man, staff sergeant?"

"Sir," said the Marine, "this is my old high school teacher, sir. I mean, one of them. One of the smartest guys I've ever known."

Jamie smiled.

The captain frowned. "A schoolteacher?"

"Not anymore," Mike told him.

"And what are you now?"

"Kind of in a hurry."

"Understood," Captain Black said with a curt nod. He gestured behind him, where two Marines stood with olive-green bags slung over their shoulders. One of them was a woman. Her patch said she was a lance corporal named Weaver. "We have your package," said Black. "Do you have ID?"

"Sorry, what?"

"ID, sir. My orders said to contact you and only you."

Mike pulled his battered wallet from his pocket, flipped it open, and tugged out his Maine driver's license. He spun the card in his hand and handed it to the captain.

The captain held it up and compared it to Mike's face. His eyes flitted back and forth. "Your hair looks different."

"It's a driver's license photo. It's six years old."

"Sorry, sir," he said. Another gesture summoned the Marines with the bags closer. "Your boss wasn't clear on what you were trying to do, so we've got five C4 charges. Should make a good-sized crater in just about anything for you. Just show us where to put 'em."

Mike gestured at the building. "Inside. Hopefully this can be quick."

Black glanced at the concrete structure and then at his men. "Is the building compromised, sir?"

"Not exactly."

"We were told there may be hostiles."

"That's correct."

The Marines looked around. "Are they somewhere on the grounds?"

"It's complicated."

Black took a slow breath through his nose and pressed his lips together. "Perhaps you can un-complicate it, sir."

Mike counted to three. "There's a machine inside. A highly cla.s.sified, very dangerous machine. It's developed a fault and needs to be destroyed. There may be insurgents working against us."

"We'll set up a perimeter and-"

"No," said Mike. "We just need to guard the machine while your people set the explosives."

Black's lips became a thin line across his jaw. "Sir," he said, "I've been told to heed your advice, but tactically it's much better if we have an established perimeter to give us advance warning of any potential attacks."

"I understand that, captain. That's why you need to set up inside and guard the machine."

"It'll make more sense when we get inside," Jamie added.

Black gave a stiff nod and turned to the Marines. He gave three quick hand signals, and the group split into two teams. One hung back while the other moved toward the building. "Lead the way, sir, ma'am," he said.

They started toward the building, and the second group of Marines fell in behind them. "Insurgents?" she whispered to Mike.

"What was I supposed to say?"

- ARTHUR WAS WAITING in the lobby with Olaf and Sasha. Arthur carried his briefcase. A canvas grocery bag packed with at least a dozen old books sat on the front desk. "I thought it might be good to pack up some of the rarer volumes," said Arthur.

The Marines spread out to each door and hallway, calling back "Clear," again and again.

"We shouldn't have any problem until we're in the lab itself," Mike said to Black.

The captain glanced at him, but made no move to call back the Marines.

"Where's Tramp?" asked Jamie.

"I took him down to your trailer," said Olaf. "I figured better he was out of the way, in case things went wrong."

"Don't worry, sir," said Black, "we'll take care of things."

Olaf shot a quick, worried look at Mike. "Do they know?"

"Not yet."

Black's lips got thin again. "Know what?"

"The equipment you're here to destroy," said Mike, "is a little unusual. Some of your people might find it a bit disturbing."

"It takes a lot to disturb us, sir," said Black. "We're Marines."

Olaf rolled his eyes. He made no attempt to hide it.

Black ignored him. "I'd like any unnecessary personnel to wait either here in the lobby or out in the parking lot," he said. "We're dealing with explosives, and there is a degree of danger."

"I think that would be me," said Arthur. He tapped his cane against the side of his foot. "I'd only slow you down."

"The rest of us all have technical knowledge about the equipment," said Mike.

"The equipment we're blowing up," said Black.

"Yes."

"And we would need your technical knowledge because...?"