They entered the conference room, nodding absently at the pair of armed guards who flanked the entrance. An opto eye noted their presence as they passed through the doorway.

Tea, coffee, and other beverages were available from individual dispensers located beneath each section of the oval table. A holo of the Alps in spring covered the far wall and gave the room some feeling of size. Opto screens filled two opposing walls. Each desk insert in the main table had its own communications equipment as well as access to computer terminals and small pop-up screens.

As soon as everyone had taken a seat and quieted, a familiar voice filled the room.

“I’m glad to see you were all able to attend.”

“It damn well better be important,” snapped Dr. Siakwan from his seat. Siakwan had never been famed for his sunny mood; only for his brilliance. He was fond of uttering outrageous obscenities in Mayan, confident that only four or five other people on the planet could understand him. It permitted him to insult friends and enemies alike with equal enjoyment.

“I’ve got half a dozen reports to sign out within the next—” he checked his watch with an Aristophanean flourish, “hour and a half. This isn’t helping any.”

“I assure you, Dr. Siakwan,” the Colligatarch declared placatingly, “we will be out of here very soon.

“I’ve called you all together because I have an important announcement to make that I did not wish to deliver via the usual channels. You are all aware that a serious danger threatens me, and that this has occupied me for some time now.”

No one said anything. There were a few impolitic, barely muffled groans. Isabel Jordan had activated her private console and was playing a complex mathematical game, listening with only half a mind.

“I can tell you that I now understand the nature of the threat and that I may have identified its source as well.” That made everyone take notice. Even Dr. Siakwan looked interested instead of combative, and Isabel Jordan wiped her game.

“Then tell us,” said Oristano.

“There are still many things I am not sure of, specifics that I lack, missing pieces of the puzzle. But I have a grasp of the general outline now. There is no need to trouble you until that outline has been solidified.”

“If there’s no need to trouble us,” said Jordan, “was it absolutely necessary to drag us all in here to inform us of that fact?”

“I thought it would raise your spirits. I am aware that this particular problem has placed something of a strain on all of you lately. The threat still exists, but I am in a position to begin to deal with it now.”

The earlier groans were matched now by tired sighs.

“I am continuing to monitor all relevant developments and will keep all of you posted as additional facts are learned. Meanwhile, you may return to your regular assignments, secure in the knowledge that events are at last coming under control.”

“This wouldn’t have anything to do,” said one of the other staff members, “with our recent external probe of your logic circuitry, would it?”

“Not at all,” said the Colligatarch. “You must, of course, proceed with that probe, Dr. Novotski, until you have obtained the results you require. I shall endeavor to assist you and your team in any way I can.”

“That’s good, because I still have a number of things I want to do.”

“I’m sure you do. Thank you all for your attention and consideration.” The voice went quiet as the single doorway slid aside.

There was no rush to the exit.

“Any questions?” Oristano asked as he stood.

“Not hardly, doh shieh,” grumbled Siakwan as he moved toward the door. “Damn waste of time.”

Dhurapati moved to stand next to Oristano. “You don’t think it’s been playing with us all along, Martin?

He shook his head. “The Colligatarch doesn’t play. It's too conscious of the value of its own time.”

Novotski joined them “Izvanit'yeh … excuse me, comrades, but it occurs to me this business may have been a test of our mental stability, not the machine’s.”

“I am discounting nothing,” Oristano responded flatly, “but I disagree with that assessment, Alex. I believe in the machine; therefore I must also believe in this threat. I also believe it when it says it is getting everything under control. I don’t know about the rest of you, but today’s news makes me feel a lot better.”

“I wish I could say the same.” Novotski turned to depart, deep in conversation with Dhurapati Ponnani. Oristano chatted with each member in turn as he or she left, like a pastor after Sunday morning services, before departing himself.

The door was locked and the lights turned off. The conference room was now empty … except for the lingering presence of the machine. It considered what it had seen and heard, appraising stares, expressions, commentary, even the posture of its human colleagues.

Despite their grumbling, all had departed more relaxed and reassured. And why shouldn’t they? There was no reason for the most skeptical of them, not even the extraordinarily perceptive Martin Oristano, to suspect that the Authority staff had been lied to for the first time in two hundred years.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please fasten your seat belts. We are beginning our descent into the London area.”

Eric complied. He was anxious to resume his search for Lisa. The flight had provided him with time to reflect, and he’d decided that the best way to try to pick up her trail here was by repeating his visit to the local Colligatarch Terminal and asking the same questions he had in Nueva York.

He leaned against the cool window glass. There wasn’t much to see. Rain covered the British Isles this time of year.

Don’t worry, Lisa, he thought confidently. They can’t hide you from me forever. I won’t let them keep us apart. If necessary I’ll follow you around the world. Or off it.

Touchdown was a gentle bump, the shriek of the jets as the pilot backthrusted only slightly deafening. The steward moved through the cabin asking everyone to please keep their seat belts fastened until the plane came to a complete stop. As usual, he was ignored. The plane taxied toward the terminal and slowed. Frowning, Eric joined his fellow passengers in staring out at the rain-slicked tarmac.

“There’ll be a brief delay, ladies and gentlemen.” The pilot didn’t try to hide the irritation in his voice. “Some trouble with the ramp. I’m told they’ll have it fixed in a minute. If you’ll all relax, we’ll be deplaning shortly.”

Eric leaned back against his seat and read through the last of the in-flight magazine. When it began to repeat itself he turned it off by pushing the tiny teletext screen back into the armrest of his seat.

He was almost looking forward to confronting Lisa’s captors. The giddy feeling of invulnerability, though dangerous, was exhilarating. He let it flow through him, because it was better than feeling the fear.

Up the aisle on his side of the cabin a woman was leading her young daughter back from the forward restroom. The most peculiar expression suddenly transformed the woman’s face. It hung there like a bad taste until she unexpectedly dropped to her knees. When she fell over on her side, the passengers nearest her moved to help.

The little girl was able to cry, “Mommy, mommy!” and bend over the unconscious woman for a second before her own eyes rolled up and she fell on top of her mother. She was joined by the men and women who’d left their seats to try to help.

The progressive collapse of everyone seated forward led to an inescapable and frightening conclusion, and Eric was up out of his seat racing for the rear of the plane even as the realization struck home. Around him, the rest of the passengers were slumping in their places. He held his breath and his face reddened. All he knew was that he had to get off the plane fast.

He’d reached the stern exit and was grabbing at the emergency door release handle when whatever it was that had laid low his fellow travelers finally caught up with him. He stood swaying for a moment, trying to focus on the suddenly elusive handle. It danced maddeningly in front of him and refused to stay in one place. His eyes began to water. He made a convulsive stab for the handle and missed, his fingers puncturing the inner wall of the door but only bending the titanium alloy beyond.

Then it was quiet as death.

Five minutes passed before the forward door popped open. Figures entered, moving slowly while inspecting every quiescent body. Occasionally a passenger who’d fallen into the aisle had to be gently lifted and returned to an empty seat.

The intruders were completely encased in suits of flexible silvery material that was transparent from the neck up. These suits were designed to protect their wearers not only from the intentionally fouled atmosphere inside the plane but from more motile dangers.

In addition to protecting the wearer from most beam weapons and many solid projectile guns, the charged field suits could also, at the touch of a switch, fill themselves with several thousand volts. The charge could be regulated, to stun or to kill on contact. They were not activated now, but nervous fingers hovered close to controls.

“I don’t see him,” said the leader of the squad. Not satisfied to rely for protection on his suit, he also carried a stun pistol. Like the suit, it was linked to the battery pack on the man’s back.

He stepped over an unconscious girl of eleven. “Charlene, you and Habib check the first-class compartment.”

“He wasn’t traveling first class,” the woman behind him objected.

“I know, but he might have switched over in-flight. We can’t take chances. Watch yourselves.”