“All right, I’m listening,” Hank said. “What’s the word—and who is he, anyway?”

“Who is he? You would not understand. And you are better off not knowing. He goes by many names, none of which would mean a thing to you. Call him the One. But his ‘word,’ as you put it, is to cease and desist.”

“How do we know that?” Darryl blurted. “This could be your idea and you’re just saying it’s his.”

Drexler kept his eyes on Hank. “Would you like a personal visit from him?”

The words hung in the air for a few heartbeats, then Hank turned to McCabe. “Okay, Terry. You heard the man. We’ll back off the temples and leave the Dormies’ Web site alone.”

McCabe nodded. “I’ll get on it as soon as we’re finished here.”

“You are finished here now, Mister McCabe. Get to it immediately.” As McCabe rose and headed for the door, Drexler pointed to Darryl. “And take this fellow with you. I have something special I wish to discuss with Mister Thompson.”

“Darryl stays,” Hank said.

Darryl could have kissed him—not that he’d ever really kiss a guy.

“It is a sensitive matter.”

“Darryl stays.”

Darryl sensed that because Hank had given in on letting up on the Dormentalists, he wasn’t going to budge on this.

“Very well. But he must be sworn to secrecy, as must you, Mister Thompson. What I am about to reveal must remain secret from everyone, including your most trusted followers. Do you agree?”

“Yeah, sure,” Hank said. “I won’t breathe a word.” He turned to Darryl. “You cool with that?”

“My lips are sealed. Like with Krazy Glue.”

And he meant it. If Hank wanted tight lips about whatever this was, that was what he’d get.

Drexler nodded. “This is quite serious. Even though this nondisclosure agreement is not on paper, it is binding. Do you understand?”

They both nodded, then Hank said, “Let’s get to it.”

“One more thing,” Drexler said. “The gentleman we were discussing a moment ago suggests you allow the council to guide you into other areas of endeavor that will speed your goal of universal dissimilation.”

Darryl remembered the scary guy saying something about that.

Wouldn’t you like to see everyone on the planet dissimilated—every man, woman, and child an island? . . . That works into my plans as well. I may be able to assist you toward that end.

“And just what would those areas be?” Hank said.

“I’ve learned to avoid second-guessing him or the council, so I’ll stick to what I know, and . . .” His eyes seemed to glow as he smiled—the first real smile Darryl had ever seen on this guy’s puss. “What I am about to reveal is wonderful, in every sense of the word.”

“I can hardly stand the suspense,” Hank said in a bored tone. “What is it?”

“It would be almost impossible to explain.” Drexler rose from his seat. “So I will show you.”

“Better be close by,” Hank said. “ ’Cause I’ve got things to do.”

“Very close by. No more than thirty feet away.”

Hank looked around. “Where?”

Drexler pointed to the floor. “Straight down. Directly beneath our feet.”

“Nothing down there but rock.”

Drexler’s grin broadened. “Au contraire. There’s a subcellar, and it is occupied.”

3

Someone—no, two people were sitting at Jack’s table.

Right now they appeared as a pair of lighter splotches against the dark rear wall. He stood inside the door and waited for his eyes to adjust from the late morning sun.

Julio appeared. “They showed up half an hour ago. The guy handed me his pistol. I checked him and he’s not carrying a backup.”

Julio, short and muscular, had let his usual pencil-line mustache expand to a goatee. Jack didn’t think it was inspired by his own beard, but who knew.

“What about the other guy?”

“That’s not a guy. That’s a girl. A kid.”

“And you gave them my table?”

Julio shrugged. “They been here before, meng. You know them.”

As his eyes adjusted, Jack recognized Cal Davis, back to the wall, looking his way. And next to him . . . Diana.

He hadn’t seen these two since January; he hadn’t left Cal and his fellow yeniçeri on the best of terms.

He looked around the sparsely populated bar. No surprise, seeing as it was pre-noon, and only the heartiest digestive tracts dared eat at Julio’s.

“Any noobs?”

“Nah. All regulars.”

Jack went to the window and checked out the street. No sign of any yeniçeri. He stepped back toward Julio.

“They say what they want?”

“What else they gonna want? Talk. You gonna?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“You gonna want coffee?”

“Yeah. I think I’m in the mood for a double mocha latte with extra whip cream.”

Julio gave him the finger over his shoulder as he walked away.

Jack approached the table. Davis rose but didn’t extend his hand, so Jack simply nodded. He did however offer his hand to the girl.

“Hello, Diana. This is a surprise.”

Despite the dim lighting, she wore large sunglasses. She’d changed some since Jack had last seen her, losing a bit of her baby fat, maybe a little taller.

She gave his hand a quick, light shake—more of a finger tug. “For me too.”

“How old are you now?”

She lifted her chin. “I just turned fourteen.”

Poor kid. Teen years were hard enough without being a bona fide freak.

He turned to Davis. “I assume this wasn’t your idea.”

He was dressed in a black suit and tie over a white shirt. His black fedora sat on an empty chair.

He glanced at Diana. “I was and still am opposed to coming here.”

“Well then, let’s do what we can to get you back to where you’d rather be and that’s my seat you’re sitting in.”

Davis offered a tight smile as he moved to another. “I know. I was keeping it warm for you.”

Jack took his usual place as Julio arrived with a cup of coffee that appeared to have a small turd floating in it.

“What is that?”

“As close as we get to mocha, meng.” And then he was gone.

Jack spooned out the object: a baby Snickers bar. He ate it, then sipped his coffee.

“So . . . still in Nantucket?”

Davis nodded. “What’s left of us. Just me and Grell and Novak now. Lewis, Cousino, and Geraci lit out after you that night and never came back. Finan and Dunsmore quit a couple of weeks later.”

He knew Davis was talking about his fellow yeniçeri, but Jack had no faces for the names.

“I thought all you yeniçeri dedicated your lives to guarding the Oculus,” he said with a nod toward Diana.

“Some more than others.” He gave Jack a hard stare. “What did you do to those three? They vanished without a trace.”

“The guys in the Hummer? You might want to drag the harbor.”

His eyes widened. “How—?” He shook his head. “Never mind. Diana has something to tell you.”

Jack turned to her. “You’ve had a vision?”

She nodded. “An Alarm, yes. My first.”

Oh, right. Oculi called their visions Alarms.

“Do I want to hear this? I mean, considering what your father’s last Alarm led to.”

Diana paled and Davis’s right hand balled into a fist.

She said, “I’m so sorry about that. I—”

“Not your fault. Not even your father’s fault.” He glanced at Davis. “But I can’t say the same for some of the yeniçeri.”

“We were being used,” Davis said through his teeth. “We were all being used. We’re still being used.”

Jack sighed and leaned back. “Yeah. I suppose we are.”

“And you got your revenge—in spades.”

Jack remembered that time. He’d really lost it.

“Revenge only in one case. The rest was preemptive. You gonna sit there and tell me you blame me, that if positions were reversed you wouldn’t have done the same?”

Davis looked away. “No. Still, a lot of them were friends.”

Jack dropped it. The past was past. No use rehashing it. But he and Gia and Vicky would live the rest of their lives with the fallout from that last Alarm. And Emma . . . Emma wasn’t living at all.