“Which was very convenient for you, wasn’t it?” Harlan said. He turned away from the window and wandered across the room to study another oracle picture. The restless energy that had been driving him for days was pushing him, urging action. His intuition warned him time was running out. “Somehow the money just kept flowing. I assume that was your work, Pine?”

“Don’t look at me,” Lucas said. “It’s not my fault the agency’s budget keeps getting approved year after year. You know how it is with government spending. Once it starts, it’s hard to shut off.”

“Especially when the budget of said agency is top secret and off-the-books,” Harlan said.

“Why are you here, Rancourt?” Victor asked.

“I just got this cool job as director of the Agency for the Investigation of Atypical Phenomena a few days ago,” Harlan said. “Like any ambitious new manager, I wanted to get out into the field immediately to see how the agency’s primary contractor was performing.”

“The Foundation isn’t the agency’s primary contractor—it’s the agency’s only contractor,” Lucas said. “And for the record, this is a private corporation. It doesn’t take orders from the government. It has a contract with the Feds, which can be canceled at any time.”

Harlan studied another painting. “The Foundation may not take orders from the agency, but it is happy to take money from it. I am now the person in charge of approving your budget.”

“Are you threatening to cut off our funding?” Victor said. “If so, you’re wasting your time. I’ll admit the government money is useful, but we can survive without it. You’d be amazed at how many eccentric billionaires are delighted to finance paranormal research.”

“Eccentric billionaires such as yourself?” Harlan said. “I know about your private hedge fund. You’ve done very well in the markets, haven’t you? You’ve got a real talent for investing. Still, I doubt that you want to lose access to your government slush fund. And those government-issued security credentials your agents carry probably come in handy on occasion.”

“We can handle the financial end of things and produce our own credentials if need be,” Lucas said. “Tell us why you’re here.”

Harlan turned away from the painting. “You know why I’m here.”

Victor’s eyes glittered. Energy shifted in the atmosphere.

“Vortex,” he said.

Harlan looked at him. “I’m sure you’re aware of the chatter in the paranormal underworld.”

There were a lot of myths and legends linked to the lost labs of the Bluestone Project, but not much in the way of hard facts. The secrets of the Vortex lab were the most deeply buried—literally. In the years following the shutdown of the project, everyone believed to have worked inside the Vortex lab had disappeared or died under suspicious circumstances.