"No," says Szilard. He looks thoughtful. "And yet I think that man died inside many years back."

"Because of Indigo Velasquez?"

"Indeed."

"She's still alive."

"You a.s.sert that with such confidence."

"Because I saw her."

"Along with who else?"

"She's part of Sinclair's team up at L5."

"And what about Sinclair's team down here?"

Pause. "I've seen nothing."

"You hesitate."

"I was thinking it over," she says.

"I think you're only seeing what he wants you to see."

"Possibly."

"That's his M.O., isn't it? All the way from the start, right? He put you and Marlowe alongside each other to keep you preoccupied, keep you distracted while-"

"He's not invincible. Look at how Morat played him-"

"And now Morat's dead."

"Maybe."

Szilard c.o.c.ks his head. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Morat appeared to me when Montrose was interrogating me."

Pause. "Montrose was using his image."

"I'm not so sure," she says. "His presence felt ... real."

"Well, of course it would-"

"And Sinclair appeared soon after, and he was was real. That tank Montrose was holding me in had leaks. Maybe more than one. For all I know, Morat's out there playing his own game. Or is back in the saddle with Sinclair-" real. That tank Montrose was holding me in had leaks. Maybe more than one. For all I know, Morat's out there playing his own game. Or is back in the saddle with Sinclair-"

"But I thought you you were the one to kill Morat." were the one to kill Morat."

"I killed a robot. The original might have been elsewhere. Or somebody might have created more."

"Well," says Szilard, "one more reason for me to take my precautions."

"It won't save you."

Szilard grins ruefully. "I doubt anyone thought I'd be the one to harness you either. Sinclair and Harrison cut me out of the loop from the start. They thought I was just one more nonent.i.ty. Harrison tried to take me out, and I took him instead. The Rain tried to play me, and I s.p.a.ced their hit squad. Montrose tried to make me second fiddle, and now she's a frozen husk. Because I do my homework, just like I've done with you. Everyone else just rushed in and got what they deserved. You're something you don't f.u.c.k with. You mind envelops anything that tries to control it. Your brain uses whatever tries to use you-you escalate automatically beyond the ability of any interrogator to reach. Montrose thought she'd cracked you, and all she'd done was undermine her own defenses."

"What about Carson?"

"What about him?"

"Back on Harrison's ship. He knew what he was doing-"

"Thought he did, sure. He had Sinclair's backing, but Sinclair gave him only part of the data. The old man wasn't stupid enough to allow your full powers into the hands of any of his minions. 'Cause suddenly the minion starts thinking they can be the master, right?" he did, sure. He had Sinclair's backing, but Sinclair gave him only part of the data. The old man wasn't stupid enough to allow your full powers into the hands of any of his minions. 'Cause suddenly the minion starts thinking they can be the master, right?"

"Just like you're doing now."

"And I'm not going into the lion's den without some serious hardware. These last two days have been quite the journey, Claire. Quite the haul. The sequencing on your incubation. The diagrams of your mind's metaprocesses, the way you run zone-I've got them now. I'll be able to get past the hurdles that tripped up Montrose. All that's left is one more step."

"a.s.suming Sarmax comes through for you."

"Let's find out, shall we?"

Two marines step into the gazebo with them. The floor begins to descend.

A shudder pa.s.ses through the shuttle as it docks with the dreadnaught shudder pa.s.ses through the shuttle as it docks with the dreadnaught Lexington Lexington. Exterior hatches swing open. Everybody gets up and starts heading for the exit-or nearly everybody, anyway. Five people stay behind. Maschler and Riley look befuddled. Everyone else looks amused. The pilot appears in the c.o.c.kpit doorway.

"End of the line," he says.

"Not for us," says the Operative.

"What's your problem?"

"Check your schedule," says Lynx.

"I already did," says the pilot.

"So check it again," says the Operative. There's something in his tone that makes the pilot do just that-accessing screens within his head-looking bemused- "I don't understand," he says.

"Last-minute update," says Lynx.

"You guys intel or something?"

"Something," says the Operative.

"And we haven't got all day," says Linehan, getting out of his seat. He's twice the size of the pilot. The pilot re-enters the c.o.c.kpit, the door to that chamber starts to slide shut- "You can leave that open," says Lynx.

The door slides back open. The pilot works the controls. Exterior hatches shut; engines rumble into life as the shuttle pushes back once more. The Operative hears the one-on-one start up within his head.

"You'd better be right about this," says Lynx.

"Shut the h.e.l.l up," says the Operative.

We're between floors," says Sarmax, echoing Jarvin.

"Let's go," says Spencer.

They move through a series of pa.s.sages that aren't on any of the ship's blueprints they'd had access to previously. They see no other sign of life, no sign that anything's been here since it got built. There's that much dust. It reminds Spencer of all that nanotech back on the Europa Platform. He hopes he hasn't signed on for a repeat performance. They reach a door that looks to be quite strong.

"You got the key?" asks Jarvin.

"I'd better," says Spencer.

Turns out he does. They go through more, each one thicker than the last. Each time he finds he's got the right access codes. Turns out the c.o.c.kpit wasn't the most secure area on the ship, because everyone knew where it was. But this- "Everyone stand back," says Spencer.

The last door slides open.

The gazebo floor-turned-elevator trundles downward. Shaft walls slide by. Szilard's two bodyguards eye Haskell. Haskell eyes Szilard.

"Where are we going?" she asks.

"Don't you know?"

"Pretend I don't."

"Can't you see the future?"

"It's a very clouded view."

"That's about to change."

They descend through the ceiling of a room unlike any Haskell's ever seen.

Way out near the edge of the L2 fleet is a medium-grade war-sat that was obsolete as of ten years ago. It's nothing special. It sees very little traffic.

That's the point.

"We don't even have clearance," says the pilot.

"You will in a second," says the Operative. He and Lynx are doing their d.a.m.ndest to make sure of that. None of this was easy to find. Sometimes the best place to hide secrets is right out in the open. Sometimes all you need to do is knock ...

"Got it," says the pilot.

"Told you," says the Operative.

A battered hangar opens to receive them.

Three men pile into a room. The door slides shut behind them. There are no other doors visible.

"Jesus Christ," says Sarmax.

Dust is everywhere. The place looks like it's never been used. The walls are made of a strange kind of metal. Each wall has a suit-sized alcove cut in its center. Each such alcove looks as if it's meant to be stood in.

"Well," says Spencer, "here we are."

"And no one else on this ship knows about this?" Sarmax looks skeptical.

"If they do," says Spencer, "they're not talking."

"They don't," says Jarvin. "This was the trump card of the Eurasian leadership. In case their ships slipped the leash."

"They didn't count on us, though."

"Maybe they did," says Sarmax.

"Let's find out," says Spencer.

Picture a square turned forty-five degrees. That's what this room's like-it's set at angles. There's no floor, just vast walls slanting down along diagonals to meet in a V-shape: a metal-lined groove that runs along the bottom of the room. There's another such groove at the highest point of the room too-and a hole in the wall that rises up to meet that groove. The elevator-gazebo has just dropped through that hole, trundling along vertical rails down to the catwalks that crisscross here and there. A pillar is at the very center of the room, running from floor to ceiling.

"Quite a place," says Haskell.

"Wait till we turn it on," says Szilard.

They don't waste time. Lynx switches the shuttle's zone cla.s.sification to undergoing maintenance; undergoing maintenance; the Operative switches the war-sat's maintenance schedule to ensure that they won't be getting to the shuttle anytime soon. the Operative switches the war-sat's maintenance schedule to ensure that they won't be getting to the shuttle anytime soon.

"And what about me?" asks the pilot.

Linehan shoots him through the head. "Are we ready?" he asks.

"I think we are," says the Operative.

The shuttle door opens.

Spencer's sending out wireless signals at point-blank range. A panel unfolds from the wall, revealing a console.

"Aha," says Sarmax "What order are we going to try this in?" says Jarvin.

"All at once," says Spencer.

This is the place Sarmax hid from Carson," says Haskell.

"He hoped to use it again someday."

"How'd you find out about it?"

"Would you believe he told me?"

The elevator stops. They've gone as far down as they can go. One of the marines leads the way onto the catwalk; the other follows Szilard and Haskell as they move toward the intersection of catwalks at the center.