The Devil Colony (35 page)

Seichan understood his caution. The president must have feared his unknown enemy and didn’t realize how badly his government had already been infiltrated.
Mistrust and paranoia
. Yes, she could easily put herself in Jefferson’s shoes.

“What became of the map?” Gray asked.

Heisman only had to turn to his assistant.

Sharyn read,
“ ‘Ever crafty, Jefferson devised a way to preserve the Indian map, to protect it, yet keep it forever out of the hands of the faceless enemy. He would use the very gold to hide it in plain view of all. None would suspect the treasure hidden at the heart of the Seal.’ ”

Gray frowned. “What does that mean?”

Heisman shrugged. “He never elaborates. That’s pretty much the first half of the journal. We’re still working on translating the second half, starting with Archard’s secret mission by sea to Iceland.”

Gray’s phone rang. “Sorry,” he said, and checked who was calling.

Seichan again noted the flicker of worry shine brighter, always hidden just under the surface. He let out a small sigh of relief, though he was probably not even aware of it.

“It’s Monk,” he said quietly to her. “I’d better take this outside.”

Gray excused himself, ducking out into the hall. Heisman used the break to consult with Sharyn as she finished working through the translation of the last half of the journal. The two bent and whispered over the photocopies.

“They should see this . . .” Heisman said, but the rest was lost in whispers.

Gray popped his head back into the room and motioned for Seichan to join him.

“More trouble?” she asked as she stepped out.

He pulled her over to a quiet, out-of-the-way corner. “Monk just heard from the Japanese physicists. During the Iceland explosion, another massive spike in neutrinos was generated from the island, ten times larger than the Utah spike. It’s already subsiding, as is the volcanic activity throughout the archipelago. So we may be lucky in that regard. The consensus is that the extreme
heat
of Iceland’s volcanic eruption killed the nano-nest out there, stopping any further spread.”

Seichan heard no relief in his words. Something more was coming.

“But the latest news from Japan came in about five minutes ago. The physicists have picked up yet another site that’s going hot. They think the Iceland explosion has destabilized a
third
cache of nano-material.”

Seichan pictured a chain of explosions linked together.

First Utah . . . then Iceland . . . and now this third one.

Gray continued: “And according to the physicists’ recordings, this new deposit must be massive. The wave of neutrinos being generated is so large and widespread that they’re having difficulty pinning down its source. All they can tell us right now is that it’s here in the States, somewhere out west.”

“That’s a lot of territory to cover.”

Gray nodded. “The scientists are coordinating with other labs around the world, trying to get us more information.”

“That’s a problem,” Seichan mumbled.

“Why?”

“We were ambushed in Iceland by Guild operatives. That means they’re keyed into the same information stream as we are. Since we thwarted their efforts on that island, they’re not going to sit idly by and let the same thing happen again. I know how these guys think, how they’ll react. I worked long enough in that organization that I share their DNA.”

“Then what’s their next move?”

“They’re going to shut down our access to any new information, dry it up so that only they have the critical intelligence from here on out.” Seichan stared up at Gray, ensuring that he understood the gravity of her next words. “They’ll go after our assets in Japan. To silence them.”

June 1, 6:14
A.M.
Gifu Prefecture, Japan

Riku Tanaka hated to be touched, especially when he was agitated. Like now. He had donned a pair of cotton gloves and had inserted earplugs in order to tone down the commotion around him. He tapped a pencil on his desk as he stared at the real-time data flowing across his screen. Every fifth tap, he would flick the pencil and expertly flip it in his grip. It helped calm him.

Though it was early in the morning, his lab—normally so quiet, buried at the heart of Mount Ikeno—was bustling with activity. Jun Yoshida-
sama
had summoned additional support staff after the huge neutrino surge was picked up: four more physicists and two computer technicians. They were all gathered around Yoshida at a neighboring station, attempting to coordinate data from six different labs around the world. It was too much to take, so Riku had retreated to the lone console, away from the others, at the back of the lab, as far from them as possible.

While they worked on the larger puzzle, he concentrated on the smaller one. With his head cocked to the side (it helped him think better), he studied a global chart that was glowing on his screen. Various small icons dotted the map. Each represented a smaller neutrino spike.

“Not worth our time,” Yoshida had declared when Riku had first presented the findings to him.

Riku thought otherwise. He knew Yoshida was wasting his energy, stirring and making so much noise. He would fail. The new surge detected out along the western half of the United States was beyond pinpointing. While it bore the same heartbeatlike pattern seen from Iceland, this surge was 123.4 times larger.

He enjoyed the sequential numbering of that magnitude.

1, 2, 3, 4.

The sequence was pure coincidence, but the beauty of it made him smile inside. There was a purity and exquisiteness in numbers that no one seemed to understand, except him.

He continued to stare at the map. He’d detected these anomalous readings after the first neutrino blast in Utah. While that blast had ignited something unstable in Iceland, it had also triggered these smaller surges, little flickers from spots around the globe. He’d recorded them again after Iceland went critical.

Not worth our time . . .

He pushed aside that nagging voice, staring at the small dots, looking for a pattern. One or two were out west, but the exact locations were obscured by the tsunami-like wave of neutrinos from out there, a flood that washed away all details. That was why Yoshida would fail.

“Riku?”

Someone touched his shoulder. He flinched away and turned to find Dr. Janice Cooper standing behind him.

“Sorry,” Janice said—she preferred to be called Janice, though he still found such informality uncomfortable. She removed her arm from his shoulder.

He pinched his brow, trying to interpret the small muscle movements in her face, trying to connect an emotional content to them. The best he could come up with was that she was hungry, but that probably wasn’t right. Due to his Asperger’s syndrome, he was wrong too often in his assessments to trust them.

She slid a chair over, sat down, and placed a cup of green tea near his elbow. “I thought you might like this.”

He nodded, but he didn’t understand why she had to sit so close.

“Riku, we’ve been trying to figure out why this surge out west happened.”

“The Iceland bombardment of neutrinos coursed through the planet and destabilized a third source.”

“Yes, but why now? Why didn’t this deposit destabilize earlier, following the Utah spike? Iceland went critical, but not this new deposit out west. The anomaly is troubling the other physicists.”

Riku continued studying his screen. “Activation energy,” he said, and glanced to her as if this should be obvious. And it
was
obvious.

She shook her head. Was she disagreeing or not understanding?

He sighed. “Some chemical reactions, like nuclear reactions, require a set amount of energy to get them started.”

“Activation energy.”

He frowned. Hadn’t he just said that? But he continued: “Often the amount of energy is dependent on the volume or mass of the substrate. The deposit in Iceland must have been smaller. So the quantities of neutrinos from the Utah spike were sufficient to cause it to destabilize.”

She nodded. “But the neutrino burst from Iceland was much
larger
. Enough to destabilize the deposit out west. To light that fatter fuse out there. If you’re right, this would mean that the western deposit must be much
bigger
.”

Again, hadn’t he just made that clear?

“It should be 123.4 times larger.” Just speaking the numbers helped calm him. “That is, of course, if there is an exact one-to-one correlation between neutrino generation and mass.”

Her face went a bit paler as he gave this assessment.

Uncomfortable, he turned back to his screen, to his own puzzle, to the tiny flickers of neutrinos.

“What do you think those smaller emissions are?” Janice asked after a long moment of welcome silence.

Riku closed his eyes to think, enjoying the puzzle. He pictured the neutrinos flying out, igniting the fuses of the unstable deposits, but when they hit the smaller targets, all they did was
excite
them, triggering minibursts.

“They can’t be the
same
as the unstable substance. The pattern is not consistent. I don’t see any parallelism. Instead, I think these blip marks are a substance
related
to those deposits but not identical to them.”

He leaned closer and reached to the screen but dared not touch it. “Here’s one in Belgium. One or two again out in the Western United States—but they’re obscured by the new burst. And an especially strong response from a location in the Eastern United States.”

Janice shifted forward. “Kentucky . . .”

Before he could fathom why she had to lean so close, his world shattered. Sirens blared, red lamps flashed along the walls. The noise cut through his earplugs like knives. He slammed his palms over his ears. To the side, the others began to yell and gesture. Again he could divine no meaning from their faces.

What is happening?

On the far side of the room, the elevator doors opened. Figures in black gear burst forth, spreading wide. They had rifles in their grips. The head-splitting
rat-a-tat
of their weapons drove him to the floor—not to dodge the barrage of bullets, but to flee the noise.

Screams only made it worse.

From beneath his desk, he saw Yoshida fall and roll. A large chunk of his skull was missing. Blood was pouring from his head. Riku could not take his eyes off the spreading pool.

Then someone grabbed him. He fought, but it was Janice. She snatched a handful of his lab jacket and dragged him around his desk. She pointed her arm toward a side exit. It led to an open cavernous space, a former mine, but now home to the Super-Kamiokande detector.

He understood. They had to flee the lab. It was death to remain hiding here. As if to underscore this thought, he heard the
pop-pop
of rifle fire. The invaders were killing everyone.

Staying low, hidden by the row of desks, he followed Janice as she headed to the side exit. She burst through, and he dove out at her heels. She slammed the door behind him and searched around.

Gunfire echoed from the tunnel ahead. It was the old mine shaft that led to the surface. Besides the new elevator, it was the only way into or out of the facility. The assassins had both exits covered and were converging here.

“This way!” Janice reached back and tugged his arm.

Together, they fled in the only direction they could, running down another tunnel. But Riku knew it led to a dead end. The gunmen would be on top of them in a matter of moments. Thirty meters farther along, the tunnel emptied into a cavern.

He could see the domed roof stretching far above him. It was draped in polyethylene Mineguard, to block radon seeping from the rock. Beneath his feet was the Super-Kamiokande detector itself, a massive stainless-steel tank filled with fifty thousand tons of ultrapure water and lined by thirteen thousand photomultiplier tubes.

“C’mon,” Janice said.

They dashed together around the electronics hut. The cavernous space was littered with equipment and gear, with forklifts and hand trucks. Overhead, bright yellow scaffolding held up cranes, all to service the Super-Kamiokande detector.

A harsh shout in Arabic rebounded behind them, echoing off the walls. The assassins were sweeping toward them.

Riku searched around. There was nowhere to hide that wouldn’t be discovered in seconds.

Janice continued to draw him along with her. She stopped at a rack of diving gear—then he understood.

And balked.

“It’s the only way,” she urged in a hard whisper.

She pushed a heavy air tank, already equipped with a regulator, into his arms. He had no choice but to hug it. She turned the valve on top, and air hissed from the mouthpiece. She grabbed another tank and rushed to a hatch in the floor. It opened into the top of the giant water-filled vault below. Divers used the hatch to service the Super-Kamiokande detector’s main tank, mostly to repair broken photomultiplier tubes.

Janice fumbled the regulator’s mouthpiece between his lips. He wanted to spit it out—it tasted bad—but he bit down on the silicon. She pointed to the dark hole.

“Go!”

With a great tremble of fear, he stepped over the opening and jumped feetfirst into the cold water. The weight of the tank pulled him quickly toward the distant bottom. He craned up and saw Janice splash overhead, pulling the hatch closed behind her.

Complete and utter darkness swamped him.

Riku continued his blind plunge, screaming out air bubbles as his feet crashed into the bottom. He crouched on the floor, hugging his air tank, shivering—for now in fear, but the cold would soon make it worse.

Then arms found him and encircled him. He felt a cheek press against his, so very warm. Janice was holding him in the dark.

For the first time in his life, a touch felt good.

May 31, 5:32
P.M.
Washington, D.C.

“It took Archard a full month to sail to Iceland,” Dr. Heisman was saying. “The seas were especially rough.”