Again Kazimi thought he heard something in Pollack’s transmission—an electronic shimmer that briefly distorted his voice.

Had they been compromised?

The architects of the Doomsday Germ were not to be underestimated. They had created an organism more sophisticated than anything he had ever seen. He would not have been all that surprised if they had somehow gained access to these secure transmissions. If so, it might result in an acceleration of the timetable they’d issued.

Kazimi shuddered at the thought and debated whether to include this new suspicion in his daily report. A false alarm could raise concerns about his mental state. He’s hearing things, they might say, becoming paranoid. Every person, even someone with his penchant for solitude, has a breaking point. He feared tipping the scales in a way that could risk his involvement with the project. He had come too far, given up too much, not to see this to the end.

“Nothing to be disappointed about,” he said, rubbing at the grit stinging his eyes. “You’ve done well, Dr. Pollack.”

“And how about the other players in the game?”

The game.

Again Kazimi felt a pang of guilt for the ongoing deception, but it was a necessary precaution. Nobody could know about the very real threat facing America. The only people, as far as he was aware, who knew the specifics of his research were the president, the vice president, and a few select members of the president’s cabinet. The CIA and FBI, each investigating things from different angles, had to have amassed vast amounts about One Hundred Neighbors, but the inner circle with full knowledge of the threat the terrorists were presenting was limited to the most essential personnel. Even the smallest leak about the threat facing the nation would likely cause panic on an epic scale.

“Do you have another piece of the problem for me to try, or would you prefer I keep working on this one?” Pollack went on.

“Yes, keep working. The others will have a look at these data as well. We’re doing great.”

Another lie. Kazimi had been dishing them out like Halloween candy ever since he gave up his life to go underground. The truth was they were fast running out of time.

“You know, I’m really enjoying this little exercise of ours,” Pollack said. “Much more so than I thought when you first approached me. I’m glad I decided to come aboard.”

There it was again—an audible phase shift in Pollack’s voice. Kazimi decided this was definitely something to go on his report. He might be wrong, but it was worth the risk. Even if it turned out to be nothing, NSA experts would probably have a new encryption program installed by morning.