“We’re going off the map here. Beyond this point, there be dragons.”

“You’re overreacting.”

“I’m so not sure. Fred told me to walk away from this and to make sure you do the same. I know him, Randi. And I can tell you he was serious.”

“You need to be more creative, Jon. Think of it this way: We sicced Marty on this before we got those orders and he called us with something before we could tell him to stand down. All we’re doing here is debriefing him and making sure whatever he’s found is permanently buried. Isn’t that exactly what Fred would want us to do?”

Of course, he’d already considered—and rehearsed—that precise rationalization. Its plausibility, combined with his burning curiosity and loyalty to Randi, was the only reason he’d come this far.

They stopped in front of Zellerbach’s gate and this time it swung open without them having to use the call button. Smith hung back, letting Randi take a hesitant step inside while he waited for the stink bombs and fish to fly. When nothing happened, he reluctantly followed.

The front door opened, and Marty scanned his property nervously while they squeezed by.

“What took you so long?” he said, pushing the door closed and activating a high-tech dead bolt.

“Jon’s been sulking,” Randi said.

It was impossible to know if Zellerbach heard her response. He just turned and started for his office in the rushed waddle that Smith remembered so well from high school. Back then, it meant he’d pissed someone off and needed protection. What it meant now was a mystery.

The Merge that had been disassembled on the table was still in pieces, but now bristling with countless wires that led to the Cray in the corner. It looked a little like something out of a Frankenstein movie—though Zellerbach was more Igor than Victor.

“What did you find?” Smith said, anxious to get this over with.

“I’m not sure.”

“Are you kidding? You got me all the way out here to tell me you’re not sure?”

“What’s gotten in your bonnet?” Zellerbach said.

“Ignore him,” Randi said. “Tell us the story.”

“Well…I figured out a way to trigger something.”

“Something?”

His expression was as familiar as his odd gait. He was trying to figure out how to explain something to the slow kids. They’d been friends for a long time, but suddenly Smith remembered why it was that people always wanted to kick his ass.

“Okay…” he started. “There are certain parts in this thing—small stuff spread out all over the place—that no one’s been able to figure out. What everyone agrees on, though, is that they never activate no matter what app you use.”

“Twenty-eight of them,” Smith said.

“That’s right! How did you know?”