“Cheeeeeeeeeeeeeep!”

  “Doooooo-dooooooo-dooooooo!”

  “Cheeeeep! Cheeep!”

  Then they began to hop around each other.

  “That’s certainly odd.” Ziggy stepped away from the birds, his face a picture of disapproval.

  “It’s a mating dance.” Bert’s eyes widened. “I’ve seen it with ostriches.”

  The two birds circled each other, occasionally meeting in the center to nuzzle. It was oddly endearing, and all eyes were transfixed on the courtship.

  Then Nick took Tom’s hand. “Thomas Jefferson! Didn’t know that Ziggy located you. Welcome to the project.”

  Tom remained expressionless as Nick pressed something into his palm.

  Feels like a folded piece of paper.

  Tom subtly shoved it into his pocket. Nick shook hands with Presley, exchanged pleasantries, and then joined everyone else with the bird-watching.

  “The turkey hen is Abagail. Is that a dodo?”

  “Yeah.” Bert beamed. “Stosh.”

  “I think they like each other.”

  Stosh stroked Abagail’s tiny head with his giant beak. She chirped and rubbed against him.

  “While this is all undoubtedly amusing,” Ziggy extolled, “we have work we need to—oh my he’s mounting her.”

  “The birds are fucking.”

  “Yes, Tork. They’re procreating. But please control your foul language.” Ziggy tittered. “Even though they are fowl. Spelled with a W. My subconscious made a funny.”

  The sex was jackhammer fast, and both birds made a lot of enthusiastic noise. While the group focused on the nature porn, Tom stepped back from the spectacle and took a peek at the note Nick had passed him.

  Albert-

  You're in DANGER. Your friends are being held against their will.

  ZIGGY IS PSYCHOTIC.

  He's THREATENING MY DAUGHTER and forcing me to build a death ray and wants you to help design it. He wants to test it on a town, and KILL ALL 700 RESIDENTS. And that's just for starters. If finished, it can kill MILLIONS.

  Plus there's something even worse here. Something PURE EVIL.

  SAVE ME. And DESTROY THIS NOTE as soon as you read it.

  Well, shit. That raises the stakes.

  While death ray and kill millions and pure evil seem like exaggerated claims, the look in Nick’s eyes is showing real fear.

  Now there is more at stake than just saving Weejy and SoJo. A lot more.

  “CHEEEP CHEEEEP CHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!” cheeped Abagail, her head thrown back in apparent turkey ecstasy.

  Presley gave Bert a friendly jab on his shoulder. “Dude. Your bird is a stud.”

  “He’s trying to make up for over three hundred years of extinction. Tough to bear the burden of restoring the population of your species.”

  “DOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

  “Doesn’t seem like he’s burdened,” Presley commented.

  “Your pet needs to stop behaving this way.” Ziggy took a step toward Stosh, and Stosh glared at him and screeched, his little wings flapping double-time.

  Ziggy backed off. “He’s quite ill-mannered.”

  “Would you want to be interrupted during sex?” Bert asked.

  Tom brushed past Presley, shoving the note into her vest pocket.

  “I certainly don’t want to take anything away from the majestic display of propagation going on before us,” Tom orated, getting everyone’s attention, “but we were told there’s something worth millions of dollars at this facility. I don’t think it had anything to do with dodo/turkey hybrids.”

  “Thank you for so eloquently reminding us of our business, Thomas.” Ziggy pointed at Nick. “Nicky, please give us a demonstration of what we’ve been working on. The less intense version.”

  Nicky went into a wire cage and behind a control panel that resembled the dashboard of some sort of construction machine, with levers and switches and blinking lights. With attention divided between his actions, and the bird pornography, Tom watched as Presley read the note.

  “Comms?” she silently mouthed.

  Tom nodded, and Presley slipped out of the room, unnoticed.

  Now I need to make Bert aware of the situation.

  Which will be difficult, because I just let Presley leave with the note.

  Tom felt like kicking himself for the misstep, but instead of dwelling on it he sidled up behind Bert.

  Nick’s machine began humming, and the smell of ozone filled the room. The hair on Tom’s arms stood up and vibrated. The overhead lights flickered.

  “Doooooooo-dooooooo?” Stosh was apparently disturbed enough by the proceedings that he’d abandoned mating, and had begun gently nudging Abagail away from the control panel, to the other end of the room.

  Then the overhead lights flickered.

  “Do we need to get into the Faraday cage?” Bert took a step toward Nick, away from Tom.

  “It’s okay. You’re safe.”

  The humming kicked up, as did Tom’s palpable apprehension.

  Is this the death ray? A non-lethal prototype?

  Maybe we should get in that cage with Nick.

  Then the surrounding lamps began to turn on. A few at first, blinking, and then all of them, glowing at full wattage.

  “Whoa.” Bert bent down and picked up a 100 watt bulb, unattached to anything, but glowing steadily. “Wireless power.”

  “Quite impressive, isn’t it?” Ziggy clasped his hands behind his back and rocked on his heels, obviously pleased.

  “It’s… incredible.”

  Tom cautiously reached for a desk lamp near his feet. He lifted it, then ran his hand down the electrical cord, which wasn’t plugged into anything.

  But the bulb burned bright.

  Tom examined the lamp, checking for battery compartments, finding none.

  “How is the electricity being generated and transmitted?” Bert continued to stare at the bulb in his hand.

  “Short answer; the air.” Nick gestured like a symphony conductor. “And if your next question is about the first law of thermodynamics—”

  “You’re saying the energy is being conserved?” Bert interrupted. “If it’s transferring power from the air… is there heat loss?”

  “No.”

  “It’s adiabatic? That’s amazing.”

  I have no clue what adiabatic means, but this is completely amazing. Which makes the cartoonish idea of a death ray completely realistic.

  We need to tell the others.

  We need to warn the world.

  Nick powered down the light display. Bert appeared enraptured. Stosh still appeared agitated, and stood in front of Abagail, seemingly guarding her.

  “Why don’t we let the scientists do their science thing,” Ziggy turned to address the group, “while the rest of us can—what happened to Mary?”

  Uh-oh.

  Tom played it off like it wasn’t a big deal. “She went to find a washroom.”

  “Tork, find her and make sure she doesn’t get lost.” Ziggy smiled without mirth. “This facility can be quite the hellacious maze.”

  Tork left, taking one of the guards. Two armed guards remained.

  Bert went to Stosh, stroking the bird’s head. “This was quite the presentation, Ziggy. But I’d like to see my friends now.”

  “I thought we agreed that you would have your reunion at dinner.”

  “You mentioned that. But we didn’t agree to it.”

  Ziggy’s eyes narrowed. “I also mentioned there are millions of dollars at stake. After seeing what we’re doing here, you can appreciate what a gross underestimation that is. Wireless energy, Albert. For the world. Unfortunately, as brilliant as Nicky’s donor was, Nicky has still been unable to work out some of the kinks. I want you to assist him. The two of you, together, should be able to overcome any hurdles.”

  “I’m happy to help. But I won’t be able to focus on that work while I’m worried about Weejy and SoJo.”

  Ziggy pursed his lips, then nodded. “I spent some time analyzing this situation, and considered various scenarios. The most efficient use of time is for you to assist Nicky, and you can see the women later. I must insist, as your host and benefactor, it’s the best route to success.”

  Tom considered his response.

  Telling Bert to help out might ease the tension for a little while, buy us some time.

  But if Bert inadvertently assists in the creation of a death ray, that’s not good for anyone.

  So I need to play diplomat.

  I can do that. I am a clone of Jefferson, after all.

  “Ziggy, we want to help you out here. This technology is obviously worth a fortune, and Bert should definitely consult with Nick. It’s important for there to be trust, on both sides, for this to work. If you need Bert to get started immediately, how about we let the science guys do their thing, like you said, and I meet with the ladies, so I can assure Bert they’re okay? Minimal time wasted, and he can work with a clear head.”

  That will also give Nick a chance to tell Bert everything.

  Bert nodded. “I’m good with that.”

  He must have read my expression. Hopefully Ziggy can’t do the same.

  “Your negotiation skills aren’t bad, Thomas. But you aren’t bargaining to buy Louisiana from France. The French never owned all of that territory. It was taken from the indigenous people through a government-approved act of deceit and genocide. You share the same DNA with the man who claimed that all have the right to liberty, yet enslaved over six hundred people. I don’t trust your words or your intent. And I don’t require you to broker any sort of deal between me and Albert. I’ve already laid out my terms.”

  So much for diplomacy.

  Tom considered the two guards. Both wore body armor. Even if he could wrangle a gun away from one, too much could go wrong.

  So I either allow Ziggy to do whatever he wants with us and hope for a chance to get the upper hand, or wait for Presley to get comms up, or hope for the others to attempt a rescue mission.

  Or I can make a run for it.

  “Fine. You guys sort this out,” Tom turned on his heels. “I’m going to check on Mary.”

  He beelined for the exit, and Ziggy called after him, “You need to stay here, Thomas Mankowski.”

  Tom almost hesitated.

  He knows my name. He used it intentionally. To surprise me. To show me he knows more than he let on.

  But that didn’t stop Tom. It lit a bigger fire under his ass.

  Because if he knows me, he might know everyone. And where they are.

  Including Joan.

  I have to warn her. I have to warn all of them.

  Tom tugged open the door as Ziggy ordered, “Don’t let him leave!” Then he zipped into the hallway, heading back the way he came, tearing through the doors and corridors as quickly as his long legs could carry him.

  Tom quickly lost his bearings.

  This place is like a maze. Ziggy hadn’t been lying about that.

  After rushing through random doors and making several turns, Tom had no clue where he was.

  A door to his right opened, and Tom began to run in the opposite direction when he heard his name being called.

  “Tom!”

  Presley.

  He turned.

  She appeared to be freaked out.

  “Did you find a way into the network?”

  “No… not yet. We… we need to get our plants.”

  “I know. There are guards everywhere, and they’re after us.”

  “Not just for the guards. I found a locked door and picked it and I… I saw something. In one of the rooms. Some sort of animal. In Room 33. Big. Really big. Black and red.”

  “A bear?”

  “It wasn’t a bear. It had a really bad stench. Reminded me of a bad day on my tour. A bombed out town in Afghanistan. Lots of bodies. My unit got there weeks after the attack, opened up a shack the vultures couldn’t get into.” Presley made a yuck face. “Ever smell adipocere?”

  “Yeah.”

  Tom knew it well. A product of decomposition. Sometimes, when a corpse rotted, the fatty tissue turned into a waxy, soapy substance that smelled ungodly.

  Wait… adipocere?

  What was it I heard Van say? Hippo seer?

  Tom recalled the foul odor in Van’s house, and all the books in the bathroom.

  Anatomy and mummification. Composting. Soapmaking.

  Books about rot and decay. Even that beer making book must have explained autolysis, which gave brews funky flavors because of cell death.

  I really had smelled something decomposing in Van’s house.

  Tom rubbed his eyes. The first time he’d tried to track down his fellow clones, some of the alleged good ones turned out to be bad ones.

  If Van is one of the bad ones…

  “Tom, we have to move fast. Whatever that thing is, it scares the shit out of me. We need to grab everyone, including Nick, and get the hell away from here. Is Bert with Weejy and SoJo?”

  “Ziggy won’t let us see them. I have no idea where they are. Shit, I have no idea where we are. Also… I think there’s something wrong with Van.”

  “Something wrong? What do you mean?”

  “I’ve run into more than my share of serial killers. He might be one.”

  “Perfect.”

  Tom frowned even deeper. “And Ziggy knows my last name. Which means he might know our entire plan. We gotta get out, warn the others.”

  “We can warn them when I get comms up.”

  “So what’s the play? We both go for guns, then I hit the surface and you look for a terminal?”

  “I’d say yes, if I had any idea where to find guns.”

  “You don’t remember where we came in?”

  “I got all mixed up. Do you remember?”

  “No.” Tom frowned. “It all looks the same.”

  Presley’s frown matched Tom’s. “I think we have a better chance for at least one of us to succeed if we split up.”

  Tom knew she was right.

  He also knew that splitting up often led to things getting even worse.

  Plus, honestly, I don’t want to be running around down here alone.

  “You’re hesitating.” Presley squinted at him. “Have you lost your nerve?”

  “What? No.”

  “We saw what Erinyes did to you. We were there.”

  “I know. I remember.”

  “I’m shook up, too. That thing… I think it was the demon everyone was talking about. That’s the pure evil Nick mentioned in his note.”

  “Bub? Seriously?”

  This keeps getting worse and worse.

  “We need to fight the fear and do our jobs, Tom. People are counting on us.”

  “You missed Nick’s demonstration. The technology is incredible. We may have the whole world counting on us.”

  “So let’s each grow a pair and get this done.”

  “Okay. Splitting up makes sense. I’ll go this way.”

  Presley nodded and jogged off, disappearing through a door.

  I have to move. By now Ziggy has alerted his security staff.

  Tom didn’t move.

  C’mon. I can’t freeze up. Not now.

  Tom thought about Joan.

  He thought about the baby she carried.

  My baby.

  I can’t let her down.

  I can’t let them down.

  Pushing against the fear, Tom opened the nearest door—

  —and came face-to-face with a nightmare.

  Wild, white hair. Sunken cheeks. Aged and scarred, but Tom could never forget that face.

  This man held a red hot branding iron to my chest.

  This man haunts my dreams.

  And now here he is, haunting my reality.

  I thought I killed him.

  I thought wrong.

  “Augustus Torble.” Tom words caught in his throat like a chicken bone.

  “Hello, Tom. I’m so glad to see you again after all this time.” Gus smiled and raised his arm, pointing a handgun at Tom’s chest. “Let’s go someplace private and catch up.”

  VAN

  Twenty-Two Hundred Meters Southeast of Area 57 – New Mexico

  Van quickly unzipped his pack, took out the pill-infused bottle of booze and some plastic cups, poured everyone a generous amount, and then lifted his up to the sky.

  “A toast. Let’s not have any problems for the next few hours.”

  Everyone lifted their cups.

  Everyone drank.

  Everyone except Van. He threw his shot over his shoulder, into the desert sand.

  Then he waited.

  Tick-tock tick-tock you all die by eight o’clock.

  Sara was the first to yawn, after almost twenty minutes of unbearable, agonizing suspense.

  “Anyone else need an energy drink?” she asked.

  “I I I do.”

  Roy stood and stretched. “Did we bring coffee?”

  “I think one of McGlade’s energy drinks is coffee flavored.”

  Roy scrunched his nose up. “Why would someone make a coffee-flavored energy drink? Coffee is already a coffee-flavored energy drink.”

  Grim shrugged. “They make e-cigs that taste like cigarettes. Veggie burgers that taste like beef. I once ate a cockroach the size of a football.”

  “How’d we go from energy drinks to you eating giant bugs?”

  “I was stuck in the wrong time.”

  “No shit. What did it taste like? Chicken?”

  Grim began to sway back and forth. “Tasted like cockroach. But that wasn’t the weirdest. I also ate a talking banana.”

  Roy closed his eyes, his words slurring. “You gotta take me to this restaurant.”

  “Made me hallucinate. I could see individual atoms. They don’t look like small solar systems, with electrons circling the protons like planets and stars. The look like tiny fireworks, popping in and out of existence, everywhere at once. And they make a sound. Like babies being born. Sounds like the universe is screaming with a zillion zillion zillion microscopic mouths.”

  “That’s some bad fruit.”

  “Probably woulda been better in a pie.”

  “I don’t feel well.” Sara stood up and took three steps toward the backpack, then ate sand.

  One down, three to go.

  “Sara!” Frank stumbled as he went to her, falling to a knee. “I I I can’t… walk.”