Eric nodded slowly. His leg was wrapped in bandages, and his face was pale and wan: anemia from loss of blood. “Jason Chu,” Eric said, “worked for Rexatack, the company that owned the patents on the Hellstorm drone technology.”

“So Mr. Chu organized the burglary of Nanigen to try to get information on what Nanigen was doing with his company’s patents?”

“That’s right,” Eric answered.

“And you programmed these security bots?”

“Not to kill anybody. Drake reprogrammed them to kill.” He closed his eyes and kept them shut for a while, then opened them. “You can charge me. My brother is dead and it’s my fault. I don’t care what happens to me.”

“You will not be charged at this time,” Watanabe answered carefully.

A nurse came in. “Visit’s up.” She checked Eric’s monitors and said to Watanabe, “Can you guys take a hint or do I need to call a doctor?”

“I’m not a guy, ma’am,” Dorothy Girt said politely, standing up.

Watanabe stood up and said to Eric, “Dorothy would really like a functioning Nanigen bot to analyze.”

Eric shrugged. “They’re all over the Nanigen core area.”

“Not anymore. The place burned to crap. All that plastic. It took two days to put the fire out. There was nothing left. No bots. We found what we think is Drake. Dental records will tell. And that shrink machine-it’s a charcoal briquette.”

“Are you going to charge anybody?” Eric asked, just as Watanabe and Girt were leaving.

Watanabe stopped in the doorway. “The perpetrators are dead. The DA’s getting pressure not to do any prosecutions. The pressure’s coming from-let’s say from government entities. Who don’t want these robots talked about. My guess is this thing gets played as an industrial accident.” His voice took on a note of disappointment. “But you never know,” he added, and glanced at the forensic scientist. “It’s the kind of conundrum Dorothy and I like to noodle with, don’t we?”

“I enjoy conundrums,” Dorothy Girt said rather primly. “Come along, Dan. The gentleman needs his rest.”

Chapter 52

Molokai 18 November, 9:00 a.m.

The rain over West Molokai had passed, and the trade wind had grown stronger, raking the palm trees along the beach and tearing spray from the surf. Set back from the water, a cluster of tents made of canvas and bamboo thumped and fluttered in the wind. The Dixie Maru eco-tent resort had seen better days.

Affordable on a student stipend.

Karen King sat up on the cot and stretched. The wind lifted a muslin curtain in the window of the tent, revealing a view of the beach, the palms, an expanse of blue water. Close to the beach, a white explosion burst from the sea.

Karen grabbed Rick Hutter by the shoulder and shook him. “A whale, Rick!”

Rick rolled over and opened his eyes. “Where?” he said drowsily.

“You’re not interested.”

“Yes, I am. Just sleepy.” He sat up and looked out the window.

Karen admired the muscles across Rick’s back and shoulders. In the lab in Cambridge, it had never occurred to her that Rick might have a decent body under those ratty flannel shirts he liked to wear.

“I don’t see anything,” he said.

“Watch. Maybe it’ll happen again.”

They observed the sea in silence. In the distance, across the Molokai Channel, the misty outline of the Ko‘olau Pali of Oahu lay along the horizon, the mountain peaks capped with cotton puffs of clouds. It was raining on the Pali. Rick put his hand around Karen’s waist. She placed her hand over his, and squeezed it.

Without warning, it happened again. First the head and then most of the body of a humpback whale appeared, breaching and turning in the air, followed by an incredible, bomb-like splash.

They watched the sea for a while longer, but it was quiet. Maybe the whale had sounded, or moved off.

Rick broke the silence. “I got a call from that cop. Lieutenant Watanabe.”

“What? You didn’t tell me.”

“He says we’re free to leave Hawaii.”

Karen snorted. “They’re hushing it up.”

“Yeah. And we get to go back to boring old Cambridge-”

“Speak for yourself,” Karen said, turning to him. “I’m not going back to Cambridge. Not now.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m going to find a way back…there.”

“The micro-world, you mean?”

She just smiled.

“But, Karen, that’s impossible. There’s no way-and even if there were, you’d be crazy to try it.” He looked at his arms. The bruises still hadn’t faded completely. “The micro-world kills humans like flies.”

“Sure-every new world is dangerous. But think of all those discoveries…” She sighed. “Rick, I’m a scientist. I have to go there. In fact, I can’t imagine not going into the micro-world again. The technology exists-and you know as well as I do that with technology, once a thing is invented, it never gets un-invented.”

“The bad things, too,” Rick agreed.

“Exactly. Killer bots and micro-drones are here to stay. People will die in terrible new ways. Terrible wars will be fought with this technology. The world will never be the same.”

A gust of wind shook the tent, and the canvas flapped against their duffels in the corner.

“What about us?” Rick asked, after the wind had died down.

“Us?”

“Yeah. You and me. I mean…” He tried to pull her back onto the bed.

But Karen was lost in thought. In her mind’s eye, she saw the view from their camping spot on the cliffs of Tantalus: a mist-filled valley, cloaked in green, clear waterfalls trailing…a lost valley, not yet explored, or even truly seen by human eyes. “There has to be-” she began.

Something had caught her attention. A glint of metal, flying out of one of the duffels. A chill ran through her, the memory of bots whirling through the air like insects…

Whatever it was, it flew out the window, so small it passed right through the holes of the screen. It was nothing, she thought.

She turned to Rick. “There has to be a way back.”