“Those squiggly lines massacred the entire crew of the Integrity, Mr. Secretary. When we recovered the black box, we found it had captured a full eight minutes of these sounds. The crew members never speak . . .” Ellison’s frustration had started sharpening his voice, and he struggled to control it.

“But Agent Ellison . . .” A gray man in a beige suit was speaking, a very important gray man, Ellison knew. “I think Secretary Moreland’s point is well taken. Correlation doesn’t imply causation, after all. You tell us that the Integrity’s black box recorded some unidentified music. But for all we know this music could be something the captain was playing on the stereo.” Agent Ellison almost gagged. “This claim you make, that this sound file is so dangerous . . . What basis do you have for that belief? Has anyone listened to it?”

“I have.” Ellison knew that admitting this would only lead to more problems, but . . .“Immediately after we found the black box. I played exactly one second of the file.”

“And?” the gray man pursued.

“And what I experienced convinced me that this recording poses a severe hazard to anyone who hears it.” Ben Ellison tried to keep his expression steady. He couldn’t tell these people how that momentary burst of music had affected him, not when they already suspected he was at least half insane.

Secretary Moreland got up from his chair and started pacing, brushing past the woman in burgundy, who remained fixated on the screen, her eyes consumed by the dark, rippling form. “Agent Ellison . . .” The Secretary’s tone was scolding; he even waved a finger. “Still not good enough.”

“Mr. Secretary—”

“Still just your personal claims of this, that, and the other. Do you have this little ditty on your laptop now?”

Ellison felt a rush of nausea at hearing mermaid song described this way. “I do.”

“Play it for me. I’d like to hear it.” Secretary Moreland smiled and spread his hands in invitation.

“Mr. Secretary, I can’t take any responsibility—

“I’ve served in two wars, Agent Ellison. I’ve had my best friend’s blood spray across my face, and I picked his severed head up off the dirt with my bare hands.” Moreland was still smiling broadly as he said this. “I think I can handle it.”

Ellison looked around the room, and the gathered faces gazed back at him. It was horrible to think of what might happen to these people. “Please listen through earphones, then, Secretary Moreland.”

“Oh, certainly.” Moreland’s smile turned predatory.

“Will a one-second excerpt be sufficient?”

“Try thirty. Thirty seconds, and then I’ll tell you what kind of career you can expect after today. I don’t think even the FBI tolerates this kind of time-wasting.”