Like Arthur’s, the strangely textured surface seemed to suck the warmth and moisture from his skin.

“Where’s Peta?” Frik asked, looking around.

“On her way.” Ray jerked the thumb of his free hand over his shoulder. “Should be landing on the helipad any minute.”And won’t you be surprised to see who’s with her.

“Good. Because we can’t do anything without Arthur’s piece. In the meantime…”

He set his briefcase on the coffee table. Ray noticed for the first time that it was cuffed to his wrist.

Frik unlocked the cuff and the catches. He lifted the lid to reveal a gray, foam-lined interior. Nestled among the egg-crate contours were three oddly shaped objects, similar to the piece in Ray’s hand, yet distinct—distant relatives, but unquestionably members of the same family. A wire-frame stand lay in a rectangular cutout.

“Voilà!” Frik looked around. “Now, where’s this lab you told me you set up to assemble our treasures?”

“Right through that door back there,” Ray said without thinking. He’d been toying with Arthur’s piece on the workbench when the call announcing Keene and McKendry’s arrival had come from downstairs. He’d been trying to run a current through it, but not only was it nonconductive, it absorbed whatever he shot into it without altering its own temperature even a fraction of a degree.

Had he put it away?

“We should wait for Peta,” he said quickly.

“We will,” Frik said. He rose and carried the briefcase like a tray toward the rear of the penthouse’s great room. “We have no choice. But why waste time once she arrives? We can assemble what we have now and be all set to go. When Peta gets here we’ll simply have to plug in the final piece.”

“I don’t know, Frik,” Ray said, trailing after him.

“I do. I’ve waited all year for this moment, and I’m not going to put it off a nanosecond longer than absolutely necessary.”

Ray glanced over his shoulder. McKendry was close behind, but Keene remained slouched in his seat by the window. How was he going to steer this little procession away from the lab—at least until he’d checked it out to make sure that Arthur’s piece wasn’t visible?

He tried to scoot around Frik. “At least wait until I straighten up a little.”

“Nonsense,” Frik said, not even slowing. “We’ve known each other too long to worry about messy desks and overflowing wastebaskets.”

He pulled the door open and stepped through, leaving just enough space for Ray to slip past him.

Ray made it to the workbench first and suppressed a groan—You idiot!—when he spotted Arthur’s piece lying out there dead center for all the world to see. Wouldn’t be the end of the world if Frik spotted it, but he’d promised Arthur and Peta not to assemble the device until they arrived, and he wanted to keep his word.

Pretending to clear a space for the briefcase, he swept a forearm across the scarred surface, effectively moving the piece to the side. Picking it up might be too obvious, so he brushed a sheaf of notes over it.

He turned to see if Frik had spotted it and barely suppressed a sigh of relief. The Afrikaner had stopped inside the door and was gazing at the equipment racked on the walls.

“What do you with all of this stuff?” he said. “Looks like an electronics store.”

McKendry sniffed the air. “A temperature-controlled, electrostaticfiltered electronics store.” He glanced at Ray. “Laminar flow?”

Ray nodded. “Just a hobby. Trying to build a better mousetrap.”

“Forget mousetraps. Before the night is out you’llreally have something to tinker with,” Frik said.

He removed the wire-frame stand from the briefcase, followed by the three pieces, one by one. He handled them gently, as if they were fragile.

Ray knew that if these were related to the piece Arthur had given him, they were anything but fragile. He didn’t know why, but his mouth began to dry as he watched Frik settle the largest of the three pieces into the base of the platform. After he’d snapped another, slightly smaller piece into the first, he held out his hand for Keene and McKendry’s.

“Yours comes next.”

Ray handed it over, reluctantly, but he had to marvel at how perfectly it fit into the other two.

“Which one is Simon’s?” McKendry said. He stood behind Frik, watching over his shoulder. His voice was soft, almost hoarse. “The one he died diving for?”

“This one.” Frik lifted the final, unassembled piece. He rolled it between his thumb and fingers. “Poor Simon. I miss him. He gave his life for this. I propose we name the device after him. The Brousseau Device, so that we never forget him.”

“As if we need that to remember him,” Keene said from the other room.

A grand gesture, Ray thought, but ultimately meaningless. What did Frik care who it was named after, as long as he controlled it?

“What about Paul Trujold? And Arthur?” Ray asked.

Frik glanced up, a sardonic smile twisting his lips. “Paul was my employee. I assume Arthur acquiredhis piece through the mail or via your friend Manny, and he died in a men’s room. I think the device deserves a better pedigree than that.”

He fit Simon’s piece into the assembly, then jerked back his hand.

“What happened?” Ray asked.

“It…” Frik rubbed his fingers. “It felt like a shock, like a—”

“Holy shit!” McKendry rasped.

Ray didn’t have to ask—he knew what the big man was talking about: the incomplete assembly was moving. It spun around so the gap where the last piece would fit faced the pile of papers Ray had just moved. Platform and all, it began sliding, inching its way across the workbench.

“What do we do?” Ray said. He felt his gut coiling into a knot. Objects didn’t move on their own, a force pushed or pulled them, energy was expended…unless it was magnetic and being drawn toward a metallic—

Oh, hell! It was butting up against the papers covering Arthur’s piece. Ray reached out to grab it, but Frik stopped him.

“Wait!” He gripped Ray’s wrist with his good hand. “Let’s see where it’s going.”

Ray had a pretty good idea: it was moving toward the rest of itself.

Sure enough, it kept moving, bulldozing the papers aside, until it straddled Arthur’s piece.

“Where didthat come from?” Frik frowned as he pointed. “That’s…that’s…”

“Arthur’s,” Ray said. No use trying to deny it. By process of elimination, Frik certainly knew what it looked like.

“It was supposed to be in New York!”

“Supposedto be. But it’s been here all along.”

“So Peta lied about—”

“No, she really thought it was there. By now she knows otherwise.”

“I don’t understand,” McKendry said.

“It’s a long story,” Ray muttered, thinking that it was one he didn’t want to tell. Not yet. Not until Peta and Arthur arrived.

He didn’t have to worry about stalling. Frik was off and running. He picked up Arthur’s piece and dragged the assembly and its frame back to the center of the workbench. “Right now it’s show time.”

“We should wait for Peta.”

“What for? Peta is coming in empty-handed. As I said before, I’ve waited too long already.”

He grabbed the pair of insulated gloves lying to his right and slipped a glove over his good hand. Before Ray could stop him, he had snapped the fifth and final piece into place.

A flash of brilliant blue-white light lit the room, knocking Frik backward. He would have fallen if McKendry hadn’t been standing there. Ray too was staggered by the brilliance. He blinked furiously, trying to focus through the floating afterimages, but he could make out only shadows. He heard footsteps pounding in from the great room.

“What the hell was that?” Keene’s voice.

“Look who decided to join the party,” McKendry quipped.

“What are you jerks trying to do?” Keene said. “Wreck the thing?”

Finally Ray could see again. He focused on the workbench and saw the device jittering around as if in an earthquake, only the floor was still. And one of the pieces—Simon’s, no Peta’s, he thought—was smoking. The fumes stung Ray’s nostrils.