"I bet if we come back in another hour, this white stuff will be gone, and we'll see black forming all over the body. New black nanoparticles. And eventually there'll be enough for a new swarm."

She nodded. "Yes. I think so, too."

"And that's why the wildlife around here has disappeared?" David Brooks said.

"Yes." She brushed a strand of hair back with her hand. "This has been going on for a while." There was a moment of silence. We all stood around the rabbit carcass, our backs to the blowing wind. The carcass was being consumed so quickly, I imagined I could almost see it happening right before my eyes, in real time.

"We better get rid of those fucking swarms," Charley said.

We all turned, and set off for the shed.

Nobody spoke.

There was nothing to say.

As we walked ahead, some of those small birds that hopped around the desert floor under the cholla cactus suddenly took to the air, chittering and wheeling before us. I said to Mae, "So there's no wildlife, but the birds are here?"

"Seems to be that way."

The flock wheeled and came back, then settled to the ground a hundred yards away. "Maybe they're too small for the swarms to bother with," Mae said. "Not enough flesh on their bodies."

"Maybe." I was thinking there might be another answer. But to be sure, I would have to check the code.

I stepped from the sun into the shade of the corrugated shed, and moved along the line of cars toward the door of the storage unit. The door was plastered with warning symbols-for nuclear radiation, biohazard, microwaves, high explosives, laser radiation. Charley said, "You can see why we keep this shit outside."

As I came to the door, Vince said, "Jack, you have a call. I'll patch it." My cell phone rang. It was probably Julia. I flipped it open. "Hello?"

"Dad." It was Eric. With that emphatic tone that he got when he was upset.

I sighed. "Yes, Eric."

"When are you coming back?"

"I'm not sure, son."

"Will you be here for dinner?"

"I'm afraid not. Why? What's the problem?"

"She is such an asshole."

"Eric, just tell me what the problem-"

"Aunt Ellen sticks up for her all the time. It's not fair."

"I'm kind of busy now, Eric, so just tell me-"

"Why? What are you doing?"

"Just tell me what's wrong, son."

"Never mind," he said, turning sulky, "if you're not coming home, it doesn't matter. Where are you, anyway? Are you in the desert?"

"Yes. How did you know that?"

"I talked to Mom. Aunt Ellen made us go to the hospital to see her. It's not fair. I didn't want to go. She made me anyway."

"Uh-huh. How is Mom?"

"She's checking out of the hospital."

"She's finished all her tests?"

"The doctors wanted her to stay," Eric said. "But she wants to get out. She has a cast on her arm, that's all. She says everything else is fine. Dad? Why do I always have to do what Aunt Ellen says? It's not fair."

"Let me talk to Ellen."

"She isn't here. She took Nicole to buy a new dress for her play."

"Who's with you at the house?"

"Maria."

"Okay," I said. "Have you done your homework?"

"Not yet."

"Well, get busy, son. I want your homework done before dinner." It was amazing how these lines just popped out of a parent's mouth.

By now I had reached the storage room door. I stared at all the warning signs. There were several I didn't know, like a diamond made up of four different colored squares inside, each with a number. Mae unlocked the door and went in.

"Dad?" Eric started to cry. "When are you coming home?"

"I don't know," I said. "I hope by tomorrow."

"Okay. Promise?"

"I promise."

I could hear him sniffling, and then through the phone a long snarff sound as he wiped his nose on his shirt. I told him he could call me later if he wanted to. He seemed better, and said okay, and then said good-bye.

I hung up, and entered the storage building.

The interior was divided into two large storage rooms, with shelves on all four walls, and freestanding shelves in the middle of the rooms. Concrete walls, concrete floor. There was another door in the second room, and a corrugated rollup door for truck deliveries. Hot sunlight came in through wood-frame windows. The air-conditioning rumbled noisily but, as Mae had said, the rooms were still hot. I closed the door behind me, and looked at the seal. It was just ordinary weather stripping. The shed was definitely not airtight. I walked along the shelves, stacked with bins of spare parts for the fabrication machinery, and the labs. The second room had more mundane items: cleaning supplies, toilet paper, bars of soap, boxes of cereal, and a couple of refrigerators filled with food. I turned to Mae. "Where are the isotopes?"

"Over here." She led me around a set of shelves, to a steel lid set in the concrete floor. The lid was about three feet in diameter. It looked like a buried garbage can, except for the glowing LED and keypad in the center. Mae dropped to one knee, and punched in a code quickly. The lid lifted with a hiss.

I saw a ladder that led down into a circular steel chamber. The isotopes were stored in metal containers of different sizes. Apparently Mae could tell which they were just by looking, because she said, "We have Selenium-172. Shall we use that?"

"Sure."

Mae started to climb down into the chamber.

"Will you fucking cut it out?" In a corner of the room, David Brooks jumped back from Charley Davenport. Charley was holding a big spray bottle of Windex cleaner. He was testing the squeeze trigger mechanism, and in the process spraying streaks of water on David. It didn't look accidental. "Give me that damn thing," David said, snatching the bottle away. "I think it might work," Charley said blandly. "But we'd need a remote mechanism." From the first room, Rosie said, "Would this work?" She held up a shiny cylinder, with wires dangling from it. "Isn't this a solenoid relay?"

"Yes," David said. "But I doubt it can exert enough force to squeeze this bottle. Has it got a rating? We need something bigger."

"And don't forget, you also need a remote controller," Charley said. "Unless you want to stand there and spray the fucker yourself."

Mae came up from below, carrying a heavy metal tube. She walked to the sink, and reached for a bottle of straw-colored liquid. She pulled on heavy rubber-coated gloves, and started to mix the isotope into the liquid. A radiation counter over the sink was chattering. Over the headset, Ricky said, "Aren't you guys forgetting something? Even if you have a remote, how are you going to get the cloud to come to it? Because I don't think the swarm will just come over and stand there while you hose it down."

"We'll find something to attract them," I said.

"Like what?"

"They were attracted to the rabbit."

"We don't have any rabbits."

Charley said, "You know, Ricky, you are a very negative person."

"I'm just telling you the facts."

"Thank you for sharing," Charley said.

Like Mae, Charley was seeing it, too: Ricky had dragged his feet every step of the way. It was as if Ricky wanted to keep the swarms alive. Which made no sense at all. But that's how he was behaving.

I would have said something to Charley about Ricky, but over our headsets everybody heard everything. The downside of modern communications: everybody can listen in. "Hey guys?" It was Bobby Lembeck. "How's it coming?"

"We're getting there. Why?"

"The wind's dropping."

"What is it now?" I said.

"Fifteen knots. Down from eighteen."

"That's still strong," I said. "We're okay."

"I know. I'm just telling you."

From the next room, Rosie said, "What's thermite?" In her hand she held a plastic tray filled with thumb-sized metal tubes.

"Careful with that," David said. "It must be left over from construction. I guess they did thermite welding."