“When I remember to go to church.”

“Then you might want to pretend this is Sunday,” she said, “and say a little prayer. The good guys could use a little help tonight.”

He nodded and held out his bottle. They clinked and he went back to his chair and pretended he didn’t see all the weapons and equipment that were off-loaded from his boat to the waiting sea monster that floated in the darkening waters. Ten minutes later, he was alone aboard his boat and the sun was falling toward the horizon with such a spectacular display of colors that it looked like the whole world was ablaze. For the first time since he’d taken this job out here, he didn’t like the look of that sunset. The reds looked like blood, the purples like bruises, and the blacks like death.

He keyed the ignition, fired up the engines, and turned in a wide circle to the northwest, back to Grand Bahama.

Chapter One Hundred Four

The Dragon Factory

Tuesday, August 31, 2:18 A.M.

Time Remaining on the Extinction Clock: 33 hours, 42 minutes E.S.T.

Even though it was the middle of the night, Hecate walked arm-in-arm with her father as she gave him a tour of the facility she and Paris had built. Her brother walked on Cyrus’s other side but did not touch his father. Otto drifted behind them. Behind him were two unusual men: the cold and silent Conrad Veder-who had been introduced as a close advisor to Cyrus-and the hulking Berserker, Tonton. Though Veder was a tall man, Tonton towered over him, and reeked of sweat and testosterone.

“Daddy,” purred Hecate, “we want to show you what we’ve done here. I think you’ll be so proud of us.” Since her emotional outburst at the Deck, Hecate had taken to calling Cyrus Daddy. Where this would normally earn a sharp rebuke, Cyrus seemed entranced by it. Or so Otto thought. All through the flight he had searched Cyrus’s face for some sign that he wasn’t at all taken in by the fiction of the Twins’ newfound and childlike devotion, but Cyrus avoided making eye contact with Otto.

“Certainly, my pet,” said Cyrus in a soothing and-most shocking of all to Otto-a fatherly tone. “Let’s see what you rascals have cooked up.”

Their first stop was the warehouse.

“It’s empty,” said Otto.

“Yes, it is,” said Paris with a proud smile. “The last shipments went out and everything is in place for your advertising campaign. It tickles me that your work is going to be largely funded by the sale of a legitimate product.”

Cyrus smiled and nodded. Otto said nothing, but he wondered if the Twins had somehow discovered what was in that water. There had been plenty of time for them to have run DNA and biological tests on the water, but would they have thought to do so? He ran a thin finger along the scar on his face, making sure that Veder could see it. It was a prearranged signal to be extra vigilant. Veder scratched his ear. Message received and understood.

The night was soft and vast, and billions of stars sparkled down on them as they strolled from the dockside warehouse up the flower-lined path to the main facility. The moon had not yet risen, but the compound lights had not been turned on. Instead the path was lighted by flaming tiki torches on poles.

The main entrance of the Dragon Factory had a short flight of stone steps up to a glass front with ten-foot-high double doors. Berserkers in lightweight black BDUs stood at attention at the open doors. Cyrus gave them each a smile but made no comment as he passed inside, but Otto touched Paris’s arm.

“These are the GMOs? Your ‘Berserkers’?”

Paris nodded. “As is Tonton. These guards are from the second team.”

“So, they’ve been field-tested?”

“Several times.”

“And the matter you came to the Deck to discuss?”

“Oh,” said Paris, “that’s only a factor of fieldwork. During downtime they’re quite affable.” He gestured for Otto to enter the building. Veder, lingering behind Otto, caught the momentary flicker of a smile on Tonton’s brutish face.

INSIDE THE FACILITY, Hecate led them through a series of labs, most of which held nothing new or of much interest to Cyrus, though he continued to smile and nod, as if this was all new and as exciting as a toy store. Several times he pointed to pieces of equipment and asked if he could have one for the Deck.

Hecate promised him everything. Cyrus was extremely pleased.

They passed through the main lab complex and Cyrus suddenly stopped, mouth open in awe at the statue that dominated the center of the room. A caduceus made from an alabaster pillar, hammered gold and jewels. Twin albino dragons coiled around the staff.

“Beautiful…,” he murmured.

Hecate and Paris exchanged covert smiles.

“Quite impressive,” said Otto with a total absence of reverence. He could have been appraising a broken clamshell on the beach. His eyes were locked on Cyrus and doubt ate at him. Cyrus was unstable at the best of times, and now he seemed entranced by the wonders of the Dragon Factory. Did the betrayal of the Twins knock something loose in Cyrus’s mind? Otto wondered. It was always a real possibility. Otto carried a pocketful of pills to handle different emotional extremes, but quite frankly, he didn’t know which one would be needed here-or if a pill was needed at all.

“And now, Daddy,” said Hecate as they stopped before a massive security door guarded by two more Berserkers, “we come to the real heart of the Dragon Factory. The Chamber of Myth. This is where we work our real magic!”

Cyrus clapped his hands.

Hecate placed her hand on a geometry scanner and waited as the laser light read every line, curve, and plane of her palm and fingers. A green light came on and a small card reader slid out of the wall. Hecate reached into the vee of her pale peach blouse and pulled out a swipe card on a lanyard. She swiped the card and heavy locks disengaged with a hydraulic hiss. One of the Berserkers gripped the handle and swung the door open. It was as thick as a bank vault door, but it opened without a sound.

Hecate stepped through and beckoned her father to follow. The whole party moved inside and there they stopped. Even Otto’s cynical disdain was momentarily forgotten as they stared around them at the things the Twins had made. At the impossible brought to life.

The room was designed to look like a forest from a fantasy story. The walls were painted with photo-real mountain ranges. Holographic projections of clouds drifted across a sky that could have been painted by Maxfield Parrish. Thousands of exotic plants and trees were arranged on hills sculpted from real rock and soil. On the branch of a nearby tree a winged and feathered serpent crouched, watching them with amber eyes. It was a perfect interpretation of the Quetzalcoatl of Aztec myth. In the distance a pair of snow-white unicorns nibbled at sweetgrass.

Several tiny people walked by, none of them taller than two feet. They wore green clothing and had pointed ears. As they passed they tipped their hats to Hecate, who curtsied. There was a gruff sound and the party turned to see a horse trot by, tossing its head haughtily. A pair of golden wings were folded against the horse’s muscular flanks.

“Can… can that thing fly?”

“Not yet,” admitted Paris, “but it’s the first specimen in which the wings are fully formed. We have to significantly reduce the muscle density of the horses so we can give them hollow bones. Otherwise it’s purely decorative.”

Conrad Veder’s insect coldness had fled and he stood smiling as a fat European dragon waddled by. It looked like a brontosaur with bat wings and was the size of a dachshund.

Paris smiled at him. “That’s a prototype. Arthurian dragon. So far we’ve been able to make them in miniature. George here is the oldest of six that we have. He’s four.”