And now this. Incredible. A ruthless species fifty-eight thousand light years distant. A species capable of seizing control of a Wrap emissary sent to Earth. As if the existence of Wraps on Earth, and the description of the Seventeen, weren’t mind-blowing enough.

And Hansen believed every word. There was no other way Erin could know about Fermi, or that one of the other Wraps was named Roddenberry. This was the only way to explain her shifting of allegiances, and the electronic devices Drake had found on her.

And it all made perfect sense. Drake’s actions in the garage were the most telling sign of all. Not only did he not behave as an avowed pacifist, but he seemed to take relish in their discomfort. Over the years, Hansen had caught Drake behaving in ways that clearly conflicted with what Hansen had originally been told about Wraps. But he had made excuses for Drake every time.

Hansen stared at Erin in wonder. “So they sent you back in as a mole,” he said. “So you could locate this, ah … H-Drake, and help Fuller stop him.”

Erin nodded.

“Is that why you wouldn’t sleep with me last night?” he asked suddenly. “Because you thought I might be, you know, H-Kyle?”

Erin laughed. “No. I’m convinced you’re human and they were being too paranoid. But I had a bug partially implanted in my skull. I knew Fuller and his people were listening in. I found the thought of a group of men around a speaker listening to our … noises … while we were having sex a little … inhibiting.”

Hansen made a face. “No kidding,” he agreed. “That could make anyone self-conscious. But what made you so convinced I wasn’t being controlled?”

“It has to be difficult to control a mind from fifty thousand light years away—even if you can send your thoughts out instantaneously. And, apparently, controlling a human is no easy task. The Hive would have had to start years ago. And what would be the point? It was already controlling Drake. Why expend the resources to control two people working side by side?”

“Well, let me reassure you. No one is controlling me.”

“Which is exactly what you would say if the Hive were controlling you.”

Hansen frowned. “Good point.”

“Don’t worry, Kyle,” said Erin with a smile. “As I’ve said, I have zero doubt. But I promised Fuller I wouldn’t risk telling you until after Drake was killed and your actions made it absolutely clear you hadn’t been infiltrated.”

“So the plan was to kill Drake?” said Hansen. “Killing him wouldn’t hurt the Hive. It would just abandon his mind at the time of death. Is there any way to just push out the hive-mind and save him?”

“I’m afraid not. Not according to Fermi. At this point, the Hive’s control is too strong. And if the Hive did leave Drake, it would be sure to kill him itself no matter what. Killing him is our only choice.”

Hansen pondered this. “Any chance Fuller didn’t buy Drake’s head fake with the homing devices?”

“I don’t think so,” replied Erin with a frown. “I think we’re totally on our own. Which Fuller promised me he wouldn’t let happen. In his defense, he had no idea Drake would discover his electronics and come up with such a brilliant misdirection strategy.”

“The Hive shows an impressive knack for deception.”

“True. But I’ll bet we’re still the champions in that category. I think the Hive is just a talented amateur. Our species are the true professionals.”

“Could be,” said Hansen. “But maybe not for too much longer. We’ve lost. You know why Drake left. To release the virus. And with Fuller tracking a decoy van, there’s nothing to stop him. The funny thing is that this cure will be a blessing to mankind in the short run. Even if it ultimately saps our drive and retards our scientific advancement. Even if it eventually causes us to lose a war we’ll never live to see.”

“Don’t be so sure we’ve lost,” said Erin. “Drake won the last round, true. And taking Fuller out of the picture hurts. But things may not be entirely what they seem.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t tell you,” she said. “Because Drake almost certainly has this garage bugged.”

Hansen’s eyes widened. This had never occurred to him. But she was right. It was obvious. Why else would they be left alone together, without any guards posted within earshot?

Drake had wanted them to chat freely. He hoped they would provide critical information before he even began an interrogation.

“Anyway,” continued Erin. “That’s the story. I may have left a few things out,” she added, nodding slowly and giving Hansen a wink at the same time. “But I think I covered most of it.”

Hansen stared at her intensely as though trying to read her mind. She had already disclosed there was a deeper picture, which she probably shouldn’t have. But for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what it might be. They were restrained, weaponless, with no hope of backup. And Drake had doubtlessly finished releasing the virus.

Erin put a finger to her lips. Then she rolled her hand tight, the one that was lashed to the home gym. It was remarkable how small she could make it, and she had tilted her wrist slightly when the cuff was placed around it to gain extra room. Even so, even using her free hand to help pull her bound hand through the plastic bracelet, she could not remove it from her wrist.

Undeterred, her face a mask of pure concentration, she began to saw the skin of her wrist into the plastic. Blood began to seep out where she had cut herself, and she twisted her wrist in such a way as to coat all of it with a fine layer, using it as a lubricant. Hansen was amazed at her stoicism. She didn’t cry out in pain and her face continued to show nothing but determination.

Erin was about to try to slide her wrist free once again when the door from the house opened, and Drake, Burghardt, Gibb, and Zalinsky entered the garage.

Zalinsky took one look at Erin and raised his gun. “Having trouble with your cuff?”

Erin shook her head. “No trouble. Why do you ask?”

Drake glared at the muscular mercenary. “Just keep the gun on her and assume she can slip her cuff whenever she wants,” he said.

“Roger that,” said Zalinsky.

“So,” said Drake, facing the two prisoners. “Have you been having fun?”

“Don’t pretend you weren’t listening in,” said Erin.

“I was. But I didn’t catch all of it. I was busy releasing the virus, I’m afraid. And now it can’t be stopped.”

“How was it released?” asked Hansen with genuine curiosity.

Drake gestured to the short genetic engineer. “I had Max here separate it into thirty half-full perfume bottles,” he replied. “We wanted to make sure that it was properly scented, for good measure. I had previously hired thirty women to go to all the terminals at Denver International Airport and spray the perfume around. Pretending to apply it to themselves. I explained I was doing market research for a perfume company, and would later ask questions of passengers to determine if they had smelled anything pleasant at the airport or not.”

“Impressive,” conceded Erin. “What better place to begin a global infection than at an international airport?”

“Exactly,” said Drake. “Denver International is one of the top fifteen busiest airports on your planet. Even as we speak, infected passengers are jetting to every city in America, and most countries of the world. Within a few days, there will be infectious centers in thousands and thousands of locations worldwide. A virus this infectious doesn’t really need such a big head start, but why not?”

Hansen turned his head toward the genetic engineer and two mercenaries. “Did any of you hear our conversation in here?”

The three men all indicated they had not.

Figures, thought Hansen. Drake would be sure that the bug in the garage transmitted only to him. But the human members of Drake’s team were here now. So maybe he could plant a seed of doubt. It would take considerable doing, but it might be possible. A malevolent hive-mind fifty-eight thousand light years away controlling Drake? The cure for psychopathy part of a grand plan to defang the human race? To get these men to believe this would be exceedingly challenging. But Hansen was determined to give it everything he had.