JON SMITH SIFTED THROUGH the piles of dirty dishes, selecting the only glass clean enough to see through and filling it from the sink. He leaned against the counter, staring vacantly at a wall of yellowing pizza boxes as he considered what Zellerbach had said.

Was the discovery real or just another delusion? His mild clinical paranoia had caused all kinds of problems in the past, including a lengthy episode when he thought people were putting poisonous spiders in his locker. When it came to computers and technology, though, his vision tended to be a hell of a lot clearer. Crystal, in fact.

Randi appeared in the doorway and leaned against the jamb. “So what now, boss?”

“I don’t know,” Smith admitted.

“The cat’s just about all the way out of the bag. I’m not sure we can stuff it back in.”

She was right. There was no way that Zellerbach was going to just let this go. All his other psychological issues paled in comparison with his obsession over intellectual closure. Left unresolved, this mystery would slowly drive him into a frenzy and eventually make it out onto the Internet.

“We’re going to have to call Fred, Randi.”

She shook her head. “What if he orders us to drop it again? What do we do with Marty?”

Smith took a sip of his water, trying to overcome the growing dryness from his mouth. It was the million-dollar question: What do we do with Marty?

Once again, he’d inadvertently put his friend in danger. But this time that danger came from the people he worked for. Both Klein and the president were good men, but they had responsibilities that far outweighed one reclusive, unstable computer hacker. What lengths would they go to in order to make sure none of this ever saw the light of day?

“Look, I want to know what this is as much as you,” Smith admitted. “But if Marty can’t figure out a way to do a simulation, my people certainly won’t be able to.”

“He said we should test it out on his neighbor who keeps calling the cops on him.”

“That may not be an ideal plan.”

She shrugged. “Probably not. But we need something. A vague report of a bunch of doodads moving at the same time isn’t all that compelling. It’s going to be too easy for Fred to walk away from.”

He took another sip from the dirty glass. “The head of my tech team is a good man who’ll back me. If I tell him to take credit for the discovery, then it becomes a military issue.”

“An issue you’re dead-ended on. Marty can’t figure out a way to simulate it and neither could Dresner if the graves in North Korea are any indication.”

“You’re suggesting we try to get to the man himself?”