Facehugger successful. Operating now.

Send 39/126/400/Soft. Check own Alien?

"Whoa Nellie," Viens muttered.

"Que pasa, Quickdraw?" asked Calvin. The night and day Deputy Supervisors also came over.

"Facehugger?" said day Deputy Supervisor Fred Landwehr. "What's that?"

"From the movie Alien. The thing that put baby aliens into people to incubate. Matt Stoll says they've got a virus, which means we could have it too. He also wants to see Pyongyang." Viens snapped up the phone. "Monica, take a look at longitude 39, latitude 126, magnification 400 and send it over to Matt Stoll at Op-Center. No hard copy." He hung up. "Fred, run a diagnostics on our software. Make sure everything's okay."

"Am I looking for anything in particular?"

"Don't know. Just scan everything and see what beeps."

Viens turned back to the computer and typed:

Looking for Chestburster. Kick butt Ripley.

39/126/400 Soft copy.

Sending it, he looked out across the rows of monitors, still not quite believing what he'd read. Stoll had come up with what they'd both agreed was as virus-proof a system as someone could design. If it had been compromised, that would be something. He hurt for his pal but he also knew that, like him, Stoll had to be fascinated by the prospect that it had been done at all and determined to get to the bottom of it.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Tuesday, 9:55 P.M., Seoul

Major Lee saluted as he walked into the General's office, and Norbom returned the salute.

"Greg Donald," he said, "I believe you know Major Kim Lee."

"Yes, we've met," Donald said, touching a napkin to his lips. He stood and offered the Major his hand. "Several years ago, at the parade in Taegu as I recall."

"I'm impressed and flattered that you remember," said Lee. "You are here on official business?"

"No. Private. My wife-- was killed this afternoon in the explosion."

"My condolences, sir."

"What are your thoughts on that, Major?" Norbom asked.

"It was ordered in Pyongyang, perhaps by the President himself."

"You seem pretty certain," Donald said.

"You are not?"

"Not entirely, no. Neither is Kim Hwan of the KCIA. The evidence is very thin."

"But not the motive," said Lee. "You are in mourning, Mr. Ambassador, and I mean no disrespect. Yet the enemy is like a snake: it has changed its skin, but not its heart. Whether through war or by sinking its fangs into our economic well-being, they will try to sap us. To destroy us."

There was sadness in Donald's eyes and he looked away. Now as in the 1950s, the biggest impediment to lasting peace was not greed or territorial disagreements or indecision over how to unify two separate governments. They were formidable problems, but not insurmountable. The biggest impediment was the suspicion and deep-seated hatred that so many of the people of one nation had for the other. It distressed him to think that real unification could not occur until the generation touched directly by the war had died out.