“The human spirit is the seat of conscience. Without the spirit, one’s sense of right and wrong—which can be distorted under normal circumstances, of course—ebbs. I find that I must intellectually compensate for that—more so as time passes and I’m distanced from what used to anchor me. For someone without a strong sense of conscience in the first place—”

“Like Nichols,” I suggested.

“Or Cleary,” Ray added. “My concern”—he looked at Abby—“apart from your safety and Creighton’s, is that Cleary may want to speed up the transhuman conversion. How, I’m not sure. But he’s always been on the cutting edge of the research, and he’s very impatient. There’s a lot of money to be made. I’m afraid…” He paused.

“Afraid of what?” Ben asked.

“I’m afraid that what happened to Abby’s village was a trial run. That Cleary was using them as test subjects for the nanites.”

Abby looked stunned. “Why my village?” she muttered. “Why Mir…”

Ray looked at her. “My message to your father. I’m so sorry, Abby.”

She stifled a cry.

I placed my hand on her shoulder. “Abby?”

She shook her head, seeming to will away the pain. “I’m okay.”

Ray continued, “Plus, your tribe was completely isolated. Little risk of discovery, or so he assumed.”

“Are you saying Cleary might have larger-scale plans?” Ben asked.

“That’s what we don’t know. But, yes, very likely.”

“If that’s the case,” I said, “the man in Dallas who shot Abby must work for him.”

Ben shook his head. “For some reason he was untraceable.”

Ray gave Ben a look. “That’s probably Cleary. He develops anti-nanites. Nanite antibodies. They could easily disable a tracking chip.”

“Why can’t we just follow Cleary,” Abby asked, “if he’s the key?”

“I could tail him,” Ben answered. “The problem is, I don’t have any legal standing to do so. If I’m spotted, he could have me arrested or, more likely, killed. And my guess is he’s not the easiest man to keep an eye on.”

“No,” Ray agreed. “He wouldn’t be. Almost impossible to do without endangering yourself.”

“I’m not saying I’m unwilling to do that for our purposes. But if I’m apprehended, that leaves us up a creek.”

The table was silent for a moment. I heard a loud sigh from Abby. I could tell she was growing frustrated by our inability to stop those responsible for murdering her village. For murdering Miraba.

“There is another way.”

We all looked at Ray.

“Which is?” I asked him.

“Read Cleary’s memory stream. It would tell us everything he’s done and, probably, is planning to do.”

“How are we going to do that?”