“Do you see the droplight on the other side of the tractor?”

“Roger. It’s turned off.”

“The security camera is mounted on the ceiling in the left-hand corner. It has a motion sensor, but if you crawl under the tractor and come up on the other side it won’t trip.”

“I feel like I’m in a video game.”

“Yeah, but there’s no reset button,” said SAM. A sober warning that I took to heart as I slithered under the tractor and crawled out on the far side.

“Reach for the droplight. Press the off button twice. It opens a wall panel with a second keycard. The same key code will open this and the next two doors. Don’t try it on the door marked with a white circle.”

I did as he instructed and a wall calendar from a tractor company slid up to reveal a recessed space with another keycard. Cute. My master keycard tripped it and a door-sized section of wall slid noiselessly aside to reveal a sophisticated steel security door. I key-coded it and stepped into a large metal cubicle with another security door. There was a line of pegs on the left side on which hung lab coats in various colors.

“The picture’s fuzzy, I can’t see you,” SAM said. “Where are you?”

“Between two security doors.”

“Are there jackets on the wall?”

“Lab coats, yes.”

“Put on an orange one. That’s for the computer maintenance staff. There’s like a million of them, and they can go almost anywhere as long as they have the right keycards. No one will look twice at you.”

“Works for me.”

I slipped into an orange lab coat, but there was nothing I could do about my camo fatigue pants. I clipped the minicamera to the jacket and hoped no one would notice it. If you didn’t peer too close at it, the thing looked like a slightly oversized button.

I passed through the next security door and walked a long hallway that fed off into rooms marked: KITCHEN, LAUNDRY, DRY GOODS, and a few others. None of these doors had keycard locks, but there were security cameras mounted at both ends of the hallway. No way to bypass them, but SAM said that it was all about what color lab coat you wore. As I walked, I peeled the adhesive off of another of the code-reader doohickeys, and when I reached the door I surreptitiously pressed it in place.

I faked a sneezing fit and made a show of patting my pockets for a tissue. I pretended to wipe my nose on my sleeve and Bug said, “You’re good to go.”

I removed the newly recoded master keycard and opened the door.

No problems.

I was inside the Deck now.

“The image feed is back,” said SAM. “You’re right near a big hallway that runs the length of the upper level. The staff calls it Main Street.”

The doorway led to a wide central corridor that was packed with people wearing a rainbow assortment of lab coats and coveralls. Most people ignored me. No one cared about my pants or boots: I saw everything from sandals, to sneakers, to high heels. Several people in orange lab coats passed by and they were the only ones who appeared to notice me, but they gave me nods and went about their business.

Then SAM walked right past me.

I was so surprised I began to say something to him, but I immediately clamped my mouth shut. This boy was at least a year older than SAM. He looked just like him, though. Same gap in his front teeth, same soft chin and dark eyes. I tried to turn the camera his way, but there were too many people.

When the boy was gone I discreetly tapped my earbud. “Hey, SAM… I think I just saw your brother.”

“I don’t have a-,” SAM began to say when suddenly there were three long, harsh bleats from an alarm system. Everyone froze in place.

I began to slip under my lab coat for my gun, but then a hugely amplified voice blared from speakers mounted in the ceiling, “The Deck is going into Visitor Mode. Please prepare to receive visitors.”

It repeated several times and suddenly everyone was in motion. Wall panels shifted to close off whole wings of the building; scores of staff members filed through hidden doorways that closed behind them so seamlessly it was as if the people had vanished from this reality. The blaring message repeated and repeated.

Then Church’s voice was in my ear: “Cowboy… there is a small commercial jet inbound to your location.”

“I know,” I said. “We’re about to have visitors.”

Chapter Ninety-Nine

The Deck

Monday, August 30, 6:13 P.M.

Time Remaining on the Extinction Clock: 41 hours, 47minutes E.S.T.

Hecate and Paris were all smiles as they stepped down from their jet. Cyrus and Otto were dressed in suits that were ten years out of style, and a stack of suitcases was piled on an electric cart. A tall, austere man in a modern suit stood next to them.

“Alpha!” cried Hecate, and ran to her father. Instead of bowing, she hugged him and buried her face in the side of his neck. Cyrus was momentarily nonplussed, but after a hesitation he hugged his daughter. “Alpha… Daddy…,” she murmured.

Cyrus looked wide-eyed at Paris, who adjusted his own expression from a glad smile to one of concern. “Alpha… ever since we were attacked Hecate’s been very upset. So have I, as a matter of fact. If the government is sending black ops teams against us then we’re out of our depth. We-”

Hecate cut him off. She had tears in her blue eyes. “We need you. Daddy… we need you.”

“I-” Cyrus looked truly at a loss.

“She’s right, Alpha,” said Paris, stepping close so he could pat Hecate’s back. “We’re afraid of losing everything. We’re… well… we just don’t know what to do. I can’t tell you how grateful we are that you’re willing to come to the Dragon Factory. We need to know how to make it more secure, and if we have to abandon it… then we need your advice on how to preserve our research.”

Hecate leaned back from the embrace, staring deep into her father’s eyes. “If we have to… if you don’t think we’re safe there… can we transfer our data to your computers here? We have to keep it safe.”

“We have to keep it in the family,” said Paris.

Cyrus looked at Otto, who raised a single eyebrow. The tall man with him wore no expression at all.

“Why… certainly,” said Cyrus, though his voice was anything but certain.

Hecate threw herself back into Cyrus’s arms and wept with obvious relief. Paris closed his eyes as if the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders.

“Thank you,” he murmured. “Alpha… Father… thank you.”

Eventually they climbed aboard the jet.

Otto Wirths and the other man lingered for a moment before following them.

“Those are his children?” the man asked, a note of skepticism in his voice. “Those are the Twins?”

“Yes,” said Otto.

“They’re more effusive than I expected.”

“Aren’t they.”

“Mr. Jakoby brought me all the way out here because of them?”

Otto wore a smile that did not reach as far as his eyes. “We are being played, Mr. Veder.”

Conrad Veder smiled thinly. “No kidding.”

They climbed aboard. Once the jet was refueled, it taxied in a circle and took off for the Dragon Factory.