“So you know enough quantum physics to guide me, from your equivalent of high school?”

“Right. But I need you to put it all together and truly understand it. I have the big-picture knowledge. You have the working knowledge. And you’ve now spent years headed in the right direction. But even if I had an exact blueprint, I would still need you. Materials and components readily available on Suran are not available here. You know what Earth materials might serve the same purposes, and how to get them. And we’ll need to work extensively with other humans; contractors, suppliers, collaborators. I can’t do that. You can.”

Hansen shook his head. “I appreciate what you’re saying. But recreating your computer can’t be done.”

“You are right. You and me working for a thousand years couldn’t do it. But that computer was overkill. Even a fraction of its capabilities will still exceed Earth’s computers. Without such a computer, I won’t be able to do my job. But with my guidance and your genius, I’m confident we can build a makeshift version powerful enough to do what needs to be done.”

Hansen considered. He could spend the next fifty years stumbling blindly through the dark, but Drake could accelerate this dramatically. Yes, it would mean working off the grid. Falling out of existence. Changing the course of his life forever. Still, it was a no-brainer. How could he say no?

They would need money and eventually a headquarters. But as they discussed this, the plan became clear. A quantum computer, once perfected, would allow them access to unlimited funds. They could build a fortress after that. It would take years and enormous effort, but they could do it.

So Hansen agreed.

Drake vanished into the woodwork and Hansen went back to his life at CMU. If he had fallen off the grid immediately it would look too suspicious. And this gave him a chance to stockpile supplies he would need in a secret warehouse. Six months later, with Drake’s help, he faked his own death.

Now there was no turning back.

He and Drake worked around the clock. Within a year they had developed a crude quantum computer that, primitive though it was, could easily break through the security encryption of any native computer, allowing them to siphon off all the money they needed from huge government slush funds that might not be fully deployed for a decade. From there they added contractors and collaborators on different pieces of the puzzle, and built a fortress in Yuma, Arizona.

Four months after that, while they continued to work toward a more refined, second-level computer, Drake reached a decision.

His experiences with Steve Fuller had caused him to study everything he could on the human condition, focusing solely on humanity’s seedy underbelly. He was horrified. He did a lot of the Suran equivalent of vomiting along the way, but he kept at it. And it took an obvious toll. He began to harden. To become less squeamish. And his resolve grew.

“We need to accelerate our work on the next-generation computer,” he announced one evening. “It’s more urgent than ever.”

“What’s changed?” said Hansen.

“I’ve become convinced that humanity will fall no matter what I do. Our computer can’t look everywhere at all times. And even the one we brought with us missed Fuller completely. Playing defense is doomed to failure. So it’s time to play offense.”

“Offense?” said Hansen.

“Yes. In the end, we’re battling human violence, human aggression, human brutality. But the worst of this, the most dangerous, has a name.” Drake paused. “It’s called psychopathy. And it’s impossible to defend against.” He stared at Hansen with a fierce resolve burning in his eyes. “That’s why I intend to cure it,” he said.

32

HANSEN DROVE BY the Saguaro Inn a few times from a distance, trying not to draw attention to himself while he scanned the parking lot and area leading up to the entrance to room one forty-eight. While there were other cars on the roads in the vicinity of the motel, the Blue Medusa was so memorable Hansen thought it would be foolish to risk driving around another time. Besides, he hadn’t seen any evidence of anyone waiting there.

But even so, he knew that watchers could be slumped down in one of the many cars parked in the lot. The coast was probably clear, but there was no way to be sure. The good news was that even if someone was there, they’d be watching the room Erin had checked into and not the one they were in now. On the other hand, there were a number of cars that could probably see both rooms from the same vantage point.

Hansen decided there had to be some brilliant strategy he could use to find out for sure. He may have been a boring physicist and not Jason Bourne, but he was nothing if not creative. Binoculars would have been a good idea, he realized. If only he had thought of this while he was at Walmart.

An idea began to coalesce in his head. He thought it through from several angles and decided it was worth a shot. If this worked he was prepared to be very impressed with himself. He parked out of sight of the motel and dialed information. A few seconds later he had the number he needed.

“Saguaro Inn, Whitney speaking,” said the woman who had checked him in.

Hansen deepened his voice. “Whitney, hi. This is Detective Ericson of the Tucson Police Department. I think you may have called our hotline, but I’m not sure. The return number was smudged and I had to guess at some of the digits. We get a lot of false reports and I’m afraid the switchboard is getting sloppy.”

“No, you got it right. I did call.”

Hansen frowned. He had hoped to learn she hadn’t seen the bulletin on Erin, or hadn’t made the connection if she had. But Erin’s face was memorable, and he wasn’t surprised. “Okay. Good. What can I do for you?” he said.

“Some guy called me back already. I told him I had checked the girl everyone was looking for into the motel. He asked me some questions, and then ten minutes later two guys showed up.”

Hansen took a deep breath and tried to remain calm. After all, this wasn’t a surprise either. The whole point was for the people after them to come to the motel, find nothing, and then leave. And this was his chance to learn more about what they were up against. “Uniformed officers?”

“No. Looked like Secret Service agents if you ask me.”

“Did they show you ID? I only ask because there are a number of agencies on this, and I can’t be sure who was sent.”

“They didn’t show me ID and I never thought to ask. I called and they came. That was good enough for me.” She paused. “But I’m pretty sure they’re still here. You can ask them yourself.”

Hansen fought off panic. He reminded himself this was still a good thing. When he saw them leave, the coast would be clear. “No need to bother them,” said Hansen. “Did they find the girl they were looking for?”

“No. She left without checking out. But one of them showed me the picture of another guy. When I told him this guy had checked in a little while ago, he was pretty excited.”

A chill went up Hansen’s spine. “Okay, thanks,” he croaked, suddenly having trouble taking in air. “Sounds like they have everything under control. Sorry to trouble you,” he added, ending the connection.

Hansen felt dizzy. The people who were after them were there. Now.

And they knew Erin was in room one forty-eight.

Hansen called her immediately. “Bad news,” he said when she answered. “Two men are on the premises and they know what room you’re in.” He quickly explained how he had found out. “Any ideas?”

She paused for a long moment. “No. I’m betting they’re sitting in a car, watching the room right now. Unless you can whip up an invisibility cloak, there’s no way out.”

“So why are they waiting? Why not charge the room?”

“I can think of two reasons. One, they know you’re gone and they’re waiting for you to return before springing a trap. Or two, they’re waiting for reinforcements. Either way, it’s bad for us.”