“What’s that for?” Thomas asked.

“We have a DNA sample from this young woman. The equipment on the chair is a genetic data collection device. It uses a microarray chip to match the suspect’s DNA with the DNA found inside your house.”

Thomas found three matching screws and smiled. He placed them next to a new electric motor. “As I said, I’ve had many visitors.”

Sanchez pulled the suit over his head and began to breathe through the air filter. Now his own DNA wouldn’t interfere with the sample. The mercenary opened the back door, entered the house, and began to work. The best samples were found on bed linen, toilet seats, and the backs of upholstered furniture.

The two men watched each other as they listened to the muffled whirring sound that came from the sniffer. “So tell me,” Boone said, “did Maya visit your house?”

“Why is this important to you?”

“She’s a terrorist.”

Thomas Walks the Ground began searching for three steel washers to match his three screws. “There are real terrorists in this world, but a small group of men uses our fear of them to increase their power. These men hunt down shamans and mystics…” Thomas smiled again. “And people called Travelers.”

The whirring sound continued from inside the house. Boone knew that Sanchez was moving from room to room scraping the nozzle of the sniffer on various objects.

“All terrorists are the same,” Boone said.

Thomas leaned back in his lawn chair. “Let me tell you about a Paiute Indian named Wovoka. In the 1880s, he began to go off into other worlds. After Wovoka returned, he talked to all the tribes and started a movement called the Ghost Dance. His followers would dance in circles, singing special songs. When you weren’t dancing, you were supposed to live a righteous life. No drinking alcohol. No stealing. No prostitution.

“Now you would think that the whites who ran the reservations would admire this. After years of degradation, the Indian was becoming moral and strong again. Unfortunately, the Lakota weren’t becoming obedient. Dancers started the ritual at the Pine Ridge Reservation in South Dakota and the whites in the area got very frightened. A government agent named Daniel Royer decided that the Lakota didn’t need freedom or their own land. They needed to learn baseball. He tried to teach the warriors how to pitch and swing a bat, but they weren’t distracted from the Ghost Dance.

“And the whites said to one another, ‘The Indians are becoming dangerous again.’ So the government sent soldiers to a Ghost Dance ceremony at Wounded Knee Creek and they fired their rifles and slaughtered 290 men, women, and children. The soldiers dug pits and tossed the bodies into the frozen ground. And my people went back to alcohol and confusion…”

The noise stopped. A minute later, the back door squeaked open and Sanchez came out. He removed the mouth filter and pulled off the hood of the white suit. His face glistened with sweat. “We’ve got a match,” he said. “There was a strand of her hair on the couch in the living room.”

“Good. You can go back to the van.”

Sanchez removed the suit and went back down the driveway. Once again, Boone and Thomas were alone.

“Maya was here,” Boone said.

“According to this machine.”

“I want to know what she said and did. I want to know if you gave her money or a ride somewhere. Was she wounded? Has she changed her appearance?”

“I won’t help you,” Thomas said calmly. “Leave my house.”

Boone drew his automatic, but kept it flat on his right leg. “You don’t really have a choice, Thomas. I just need you to accept that fact.”

“I have the freedom to say no.”

Boone sighed like a parent with a stubborn child. “Freedom is the biggest myth ever created. It’s a destructive, unachievable goal that has caused a great deal of pain. Very few people can handle freedom. A society is healthy and productive when it’s under control.”

“And you think that’s going to happen?”

“A new age is on its way. We’re approaching a time where we will have the technology necessary to monitor and supervise vast numbers of people. In the industrial nations, the structure is already in place.”

“And you’ll be in control?”

“Oh, I’ll be watched, too. Everyone will be watched. It’s a very democratic system. And it’s inevitable, Thomas. There’s no way it can be stopped. Your sacrifice for some Harlequin is completely meaningless.”

“You’re welcome to your opinion, but I will decide what gives meaning to my life.”

“You’re going to help me, Thomas. There’s no negotiation here. No compromise. You need to deal with the reality of the situation.”

Thomas shook his head sympathetically. “No, my friend. It’s you who are out of touch with reality. You look at me and see an overweight Crow Indian with a broken garbage disposal and no money. And you think: ‘Ahhh, he’s just an ordinary man.’ But I’m telling you that ordinary men and women will see what you’re doing. And we will stand up, rip open the door, and leave your electronic cage.”

Thomas got out of the chair, stepped off the porch, and headed for the driveway. Boone swiveled around on the bench. Holding the automatic with two hands, he blew away his enemy’s right kneecap. Thomas collapsed, rolled onto his back, and stopped moving.

Still holding the gun, Boone walked over to the body. Thomas was conscious, but breathing quickly. His leg was almost severed from the knee down and dark red blood pulsed from the cut artery. As Thomas began to go into shock, he looked up at Boone and spoke slowly. “I’m not frightened of you…”

An intense anger overcame Boone. He pointed his gun at Thomas’s forehead as if he wanted to destroy all the other man’s thoughts and memories, then his finger squeezed the trigger.

The second gunshot seemed unbearably loud, the sound waves expanding out into the world.

Michael was being kept in a windowless suite of four rooms. Occasionally he heard muffled noises and the sound of water going through pipes, so he assumed that there were other people in the building. There was a bathroom, a bedroom, a living room, and an outer guardroom where two silent men wearing navy blue blazers blocked him from leaving. He wasn’t sure if he was in America or a foreign country. None of the rooms had a clock and he never knew if it was daytime or night.

The only person who talked to him was Lawrence Takawa, a young Japanese American man who always wore a white shirt and a black necktie. Lawrence was sitting beside Michael’s bed when he woke up from his drugged sleep. A doctor came in a few minutes later and gave Michael a quick physical examination. He whispered something to Lawrence and then never returned.

From that first day, Michael started asking questions. Where am I? Why are you keeping me here? Lawrence smiled pleasantly and always gave the same set of answers. This is a safe place. We’re your new friends. Right now, we’re looking for Gabriel so he can be safe, too.

Michael knew he was a prisoner and they were the enemy. But Lawrence and the two guards spent most of their time making sure he was comfortable. The living room had an expensive television and a rack of DVDs. Cooks were on duty twenty-four hours a day in the building, and they would prepare whatever he wanted to eat. When Michael first got out of bed, Lawrence led him to a walk-in closet and showed him thousands of dollars’ worth of clothes, shoes, and accessories. The dress shirts were made of silk or Egyptian cotton and had his initials discreetly monogrammed on the pocket. The sweaters were woven from the softest cashmere. There were dress shoes, athletic shoes, and slippers-everything in his size.

He asked for exercise equipment. A treadmill and a set of free weights appeared in the living room. If he wanted to read a certain book or magazine, he gave his request to Lawrence and it appeared a few hours later. The food was excellent and he could order from a list of French and domestic wines. Lawrence Takawa assured him that eventually there would be women, too. He had everything he wanted except the freedom to leave. Lawrence said the short-term objective was to make him fit and healthy after his ordeal. Michael was going to meet a very powerful man and this person would tell him what he wanted to know.