This device was much different from its predecessor. Given the excellence of Dr. Turner’s brain, it would be controlled with exquisite precision. It was also liberally provided with internal defense mechanisms. No more was the “wall” theory in use. Its surface defense was unchanged, but anybody who got into the structure would instantly be killed by a fearsome electric charge, the mechanism of which was taken from the electric eel, amplified a thousand times.

Despite their enormous variety, all of the biomachines displayed a similar elegance of design. The hybrids shared Dr. Turner’s appreciation for graceful form. But they were also practical, with the result that some of their forms, while beautiful, were also horrible, in particular the biomachines with arrays of eyes, some with as many as six at different points on their bodies. Even so, a brilliance was in them, all of them.

To do complex work, even lesser entities needed intelligence and autonomy. So they understood what they were. They moved with the precision of machines and the determination of insects, but looked out at their surroundings through the brown eyes and blue eyes and green eyes of men. They were the disappeared of the world, people who had wandered into the byways of the great human cities and never come out again, or disappeared on hikes or treks or while traveling some lonely road, and joined one of the largest, most ignored, and most mysterious of all statistics, that of the missing.

This ability to design and produce new forms at will made the hybrids a formidable evolutionary advance over the human species. But just as the hybrids were powerful beyond the human, they were also afraid beyond the human. So the creatures down here worked with mad fury, brooding about their destiny and vulnerability, and the threat posed by the independence of mankind and, above all, that of the two hybrids who would not join their brothers and sisters in friendship.

*   *   *

One slow minute after another had passed as Mark and Gina had waited for the coordinates, but the satphone had remained silent, with only the green LED confirming that the line was still open.

That LED, though, was beginning to flicker, and as it did, bursts of static emerged from the handset, briefly replacing the dead silence.

More of the mechanical snakes had come buzzing and slithering into the room. They weren’t attacking piecemeal anymore, though. Strategy was now in use, and fighting them off had been exhausting. All around the building, drumming had steadily risen.

Finally, the director came back, but there was an immediate problem—the static became great waves of sound. The signal was being jammed.

The director spoke, but all Mark heard was one word: “beacon.”

“Have you located a beacon? Please repeat, there is interference.”