"Ah," Megan said. "So he's presumably of a mind that there's something to celebrate."

Gordian nodded.

They were in a sub-basement meeting room at UpLink's corporate HQ that looked much like any other in the building--beige carpet, oval conference table, recessed fluorescents--but differed from them in many important respects. The most apparent to the handful of top-tier executives permitted access were the electronic security panels outside the door incorporating voice-activated key-code software and retina-fingerprint scans, and the total absence of windows once they got inside.

The most substantive differences involved the interstitial matrix of comint technology that had been subtly worked into the room's design and construction. Layers of two-foot-thick concrete and acoustical paneling soundproofed its walls to human ears. Steel reinforcements, white-noise generators, and other counter-surveillance systems had been imbedded within them to block the tapping of conversations and electronic communications. Adding to security were twice-weekly sweeps for bugs, and spectrum and X-ray scans of all electronic equipment coming into or out of the room. While continual advancements in eavesdropping technology made it unrealistic to guarantee that any space on earth was strongboxed against droops--a word meaning "dirty rotten snoops" coined by UpLink's risk-assessment man, Vince Scull--its occupants could feel a comfortable degree of assurance in the inviolability of their discussions.

These occupants presently being limited to Gordian, Nimec, and Megan Breen, who had convened in this high-tech sanctum sanctorum to see what they could make of Brazil.

"Thibodeau's doctors mention the sort of questions he's been asking?" Gordian said now.

"No, but Cody did. He's the guy Rollie insisted on talking to," Nimec said. "It's pretty much as you'd expect. Who, what, why. And how the invaders knew as much about our perimeter security and grounds plan as they did."

"The answer to the last part seems painfully obvious."

"A mole," Megan said.

"Or moles," Nimec added.

"Anybody look good for it?" Gordian asked.

"Not yet, and I expect it'll take a while before we find solid pointers," Nimec said. "There's no evidence our internal defenses were compromised in the sense of systems shutdowns or restricted databases being hacked. The reconnaissance that was gathered wouldn't have required a high level of clearance, just a familiarity with the complex and the time and incentive to do a thorough job of mapping it out. My guess is there are over a thousand administrative, R&D, production, building construction, medical, maintenance, and even kitchen staffers who could've provided the information."

"Nor can we rule out Sword personnel," Megan said.

Nimec looked at her. "That's right," he said. "We can't."

Gordian glanced from one to the other. "Impressions?"