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Korea, probably. They were desperate for money and would sell to anyone.

Assuming there was a weapon. He cradled the phone as he spoke, quickly booting his personal computer into the restricted access intelligence network known as SpyNet and searching the Asian pages for anything new. The update was dominated by the arrival of the vice president in Beijing ahead of the summit.

“There hasn’t been a threat,” said Jed. “There’d be blackmail of some sort. If someone had a weapon and didn’t want rapprochement, say, they’d threaten to use it.”

“I think you’re way too optimistic, Jed. I think these people might just go and blow people up. Forget about blackmail. They’d worry about the weapon being taken.”

“Good point. I’m going to have to go to the boss right away on this. The whole NSC,” said Jed. “I need everything you have.”

“They’re expecting your call at Dreamland. Major Catsman has a team assembled to brief you. Jed—I think if they do have a weapon, the summit will be an inviting target.”

“I was just thinking that. It starts tomorrow.”

“Exactly my point.”

Dreamland, Computer Lab One

0900

RUBEO SLAMMED HIShand down on the counter area, barely missing the computer keyboard but upsetting the nearby cup, which shattered on the floor, sending a spray of hot coffee onto his pants.

“Figures,” muttered the scientist.

“Problems, Ray?”

Rubeo turned and found Major Catsman with her arms folded in the doorway.

“Major.”

“You all right, Ray?”

“Peachy.”

Catsman smirked, then walked over to the pot of coffee on the nearby counter and helped herself. She made a face with her first sip.

“Wow,” she said.

“Yes,” muttered Rubeo, who had made the coffee himself. He might have the equivalent of several Ph.D.’s, but none was in home economics.

“Your people just finished briefing Mr. Barclay. Dylan was very good. Thank you.”

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“Yes,” muttered Rubeo.

“They may want you to talk to the President himself.”

“Fine.”

“Problems?”

Rubeo liked Catsman; she was intelligent, quick on her feet, and unlike some of the career military people, pretty easygoing about working with civilian scientists. He had worked with her several years before on the Megafortresses prior to Major Cheshire’s arrival. Still, Rubeo wasn’t in the habit of sharing personnel concerns with bluesuits, with the exception of Colonel Bastian.

“There are always problems,” he muttered.

“New theories on the ghost clone? Or the weapon?”

“I have plenty of theories,” he said. “Putting them into action is the problem. I could use about twenty more people.”

“Maybe Jennifer Gleason could help.”

“Hmph,” he said.

“Hmph?” said Catsman.

“Ms. Gleason is thinking about leaving us,” said Rubeo, almost in spite of himself.

“But she was cleared by Danny, and Colonel Cortend.”

“Yes, well, she’s rethinking her future.”

“Don’t we need her here?”

Catsman might be a good officer to work for and with, but there was still a block there; she couldn’t quite understand that dealing with geniuses wasn’t like flipping on a computer. And Jennifer Gleason was a real genius.

Ironically, until this security blowup, she’d been among the least temperamental geniuses he knew.

Excluding himself, of course.

“Of course we need her,” said Rubeo.

“Have you asked her to come back to duty?”

Rubeo realized that he hadn’t asked her to come back. He’d just assumed that she would when she was ready.

“Want me to talk to her?” asked Catsman.

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“No thank you, Major,” snapped Rubeo, jumping up from the console.

He was actually surprised when Jennifer answered his loud rap on the door.

“It’s me, Jennifer. I’d like to talk to you.”

“Door isn’t locked.”

Rubeo put his hand to the knob hesitantly and turned it. Jennifer, dressed in a gray T-shirt and jeans, sat on the couch across from the entrance to her small apartment.

She looked different.

“What have you done to your hair?” asked Rubeo.

She touched the ragged edge above her right ear, smiling faintly. The jagged edges made it clear she had cut it herself.

“Latest look,” she said.

“You look like Joan of Arc,” he said.

“Maybe I’ll have visions soon.”

“Hmph.” Rubeo felt his arms hanging awkwardly by his sides. He shoved them into his pockets. “I’ve been working on an idea for tracking the clone and possibly taking it over. But there’s so many systems involved, I’m having trouble pulling it together.”

“Good,” she said, making no move to get off the couch.

“I was wondering about your help.”

A quizzical look crossed her face, as if she didn’t understand the words.

“I’ll help,” she said, still making no move to get off the couch.

“Are you still going to leave?”

“I haven’t made up my mind,” she said.

Coming from anyone else, Rubeo would have interpreted the statement as hinting at blackmail. But Jennifer wasn’t like that.

“Teaching—I don’t think you should waste your time,” he said.

Jennifer smiled. “Someone taught me.”

“Well, yes. But in your case … ”

“Let’s go get some breakfast. Blue room?” she said, referring to one of the all-ranks messes.

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“Fine,” said Rubeo, following her out.

JENNIFER PICKED UPthe long strip of bacon and eased it into her mouth, savoring the salty tang.

She hadn’t eaten for days. She hadn’t eaten bacon in months if not years; her breakfast ordinarily consisted of yogurt and an occasional oatmeal.

“Good?” said Rubeo, sitting across from her at the table.

“Delicious. Go on.”

Rubeo wanted to use the electronic signal gathering capabilities of Raven to intercept the control frequencies used by the unmanned plane and take it over. Raven carried gear ordinarily used to jam radars, and they could link the Flighthawk control units into it to supply the proper code.

Couldn’t they?

“Probably. Of course, if we interfere and don’t get the encryption right, the UAV will probably go into native mode,” observed Jennifer. The Flighthawks were programmed to act that way if interfered with.

“The first thing you have to do is straighten out the hooks between C3and the Raven systems—that’s a real tangle. I mean, you may not even be able to do it physically.”

“I have Morris working on it.”

“Morris?”

“Well, you weren’t available,” said Rubeo. “The team from the Signal Group is helping him.”

Jennifer picked up another piece of bacon and stabbed it into one of her eggs. She scooped up the yolk with the bacon like a spoon and pushed it into her mouth.

“Have you tried checking the data against the NOSS system?” Jennifer asked. She was referring to a network of quasi-stationary Sigint satellites used to gather radio signals around the globe. The abbreviation stood for Naval Ocean Surveillance System.

“Why?”

“You could use that to track down whatever they’re using as a base station. Then you’d know where they were operating from and you could physically take them out of the picture. All that data has to be available. You can backtrack from that. You really haven’t done that yet?”

Rubeo frowned. He hadn’t thought of it, but being Ray, he wasn’t going to admit it.

Jennifer stood, then reached down and grabbed the bacon off her plate. “Let’s get to work, Ray. What have you been doing for the past few days anyway?”

Taiwan

14 September 1997

0300

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STONER DECIDED TOgo back to Taipei; he wanted to talk to his people back at Langley as well as see what else the local agents had dug up on Chen Lee and his companies. Though dead tired, Danny insisted on going along, and so he was awake when Dylan Lyon called him from Dreamland to tell him what his survey with the IR viewer had found. The physicist began grilling him about the site. Danny really couldn’t supply much more information than what the sensors had already transmitted, but he answered their questions patiently, describing the exterior of the site and everything he’d seen.