On the other hand, maybe it didn’t matter. It was unlikely that either Klein or the president knew anything about Whitfield’s presence here, which meant that when he got the information he wanted, it would be a quiet burial for all three of them. He undoubtedly thought it would be easier to ask forgiveness than permission. And he was probably right.

There was a wild card, though. Despite Whitfield’s likely plan for their demise, they were basically on the same side. Was it possible that the man didn’t know anything about the hidden subsystem?

“Tell him,” Smith said.

“What?”

“Go ahead, Marty. Tell him everything you told us.”

Zellerbach just stood there, obviously wondering why his amazing mind couldn’t immediately grasp the elaborate ruse that Smith was recruiting him for.

“This isn’t a trick, Marty. He’s a son of a bitch but, in a way, he’s our son of a bitch. Answer all his questions completely and honestly.”

The aging hacker’s confusion deepened.

“He’s serious,” Randi said. “Do it.”

“Okay,” he said, drawing the word out as he watched his friends for some sign of what he was really supposed to do. “There’s a hidden subsystem.”

When Smith just gave him an encouraging nod, he continued.

“It’s disguised as battery management and upgrade paths. No one’s been able to figure out what they do.”

“But you have?” Whitfield said, undoubtedly aware of the mysterious hardware from Smith’s own reports.

“No. I figured out how to bypass the operating system and trigger it. But no one was wearing the Merge at the time so I don’t know what it does.”

While Whitfield’s face gave away nothing, his silence spoke volumes. He hadn’t known about this.

“How do we find out?”

Zellerbach licked his already wet lips. “The only way I can think of is to, uh, have someone try it.”

Whitfield nodded and pointed to Smith. “Okay. Why don’t we volunteer the colonel here.”

With guns on him and his companions, there wasn’t much choice.

“Jon…” Randi cautioned as he sat down at the terminal to calibrate the unit to his mind.

“We’re dead anyway, Randi. Might as well exercise my curiosity.”

He went through the familiar routine quickly and then stood, pointing to the chair. “Marty.”

“But I don’t know what it’s going to do,” he whined. “I don’t want to.”

To his credit, Whitfield didn’t threaten or even get involved. A commander who knew when to step back was a rare and impressive thing. Unless he was your opponent.

“Just do it, Marty. Okay? We need to know, and this is the only way to find out.”