The man removed his cap with the attached dreadlocks and took his sunglasses off. “Damn, this thing is hot!” he said. He grinned at Austin. “Been to any good kayak races lately?”

The sun gleamed off the bizarre tattoo on the sweaty scalp.

Austin leaned on his oars. “Hello, Spider,” he said.

“You know who I am?”

Austin nodded. “The Bob Marley disguise had me fooled for a second.”

Barrett shrugged. “It was the best I could do on short notice. A guy was selling them at a souvenir booth near the boat rental place. It was either this or Elvis.”

“Good choice. I can't see you singing 'Hound Dog,' ” Austin said. “Why the need to go incognito?”

Barrett pointed to a bandage that was wrapped around his head. “Someone is trying to kill me.”

“Why?”

“Long story, Kurt.”

Austin decided to take a stab in the dark. “Does this have anything to do with extra-low-level electromagnetic transmissions?”

It was obvious from the look of astonishment on Barrett's face that the comment had struck home. “How'd you know about that?”

“That's about all I do know.”

Barrett squinted at the sparkle on the river. “Pretty.”

“I think so, but you didn't come here for the scenery.”

“You're right. I came by because I need a friend.”

Austin swept his arm around. “You're in friendly waters here. If it hadn't been for you and your boat, I would have been killer whale bait. Come back to my house and let's talk about it.”

“That's not a good idea,” Barrett said with a furtive glance over his shoulder. He reached into his shirt pocket and produced a black box about the size of a pack of cigarettes. “This will tell us if there's any electronic surveillance in the area. Okay, it's clear right now, but I'd rather not take any chances. Mind if we row? I'm enjoying myself.”

“There's a place we can pull off not far from here,” Austin said. “Follow me.”

They rowed another eighth of a mile and pulled the sculls up onto a low bank. A kind soul had placed a picnic bench in the shade of the trees for the benefit of passing boaters. Austin shared his water bottle with Barrett.

“Thanks,” he said after gulping down a couple of swallows. “I'm way out of shape.”

“Not from what I saw. I was flying right along when you caught up with me.”

“I was on the rowing team at MIT. Rowed practically every good day on the Charles River. It's been a long time,” he said, smiling at the memory.

“What was your major at MIT?”

“Quantum physics, specializing in computer logic.”

“You wouldn't know it from the biker look.”