David Dun - The Black Silent

On the positive side the regimen seems to foster great energy and optimism that is prevalent, unless one gets on the subject of scarcity — medication scarcity.

Unfortunately, the treatment for aging is expensive, never ending, and complex. Any hint that there might be a problem with supply seems to arouse anxiety and a mental state bordering on paranoia, particularly in males. To this group, the paramount value seems to be securing continuing availability of Arc.

An expert in the field might be able to counter some of these mental effects with drugs, but for the present I have to deal with it psychoanalytically to the best of my ability.

Members of the group seem to have retained their sense of humor and self-awareness and they are often able to laugh about their seeming paranoia over losing the supply of regimen drugs.

In all other regards mental performance of subjects remains as high, if not higher, than it ever had been.

Lately, however, they've become extremely concerned when they do not know my precise whereabouts. In the beginning I kept the various recipes for the various portions of the regimen in a vault at the foundation, but recently I destroyed the hard copies and then had only the copies on my computer and on Sarah's computer. Recently I also destroyed critical portions of the electronic documents on both computers so that I now possess the critical information only in my memory. (I was able to access the escrow and did the same.) My mistrust of Sanker necessitated these actions. I tested Sanker 's integrity and, unfortunately, it failed, thus giving me reason to thwart the escrow. I am concerned about the reaction of the male subjects when they learn what I've done.

For specific interviews and psychological test results, see the main body of this report.

Sam took another look at Haley. She seemed taken aback to the point of shock.

"I can't believe he's done this," she said.

"It's bold to the point of recklessness, I agree. It should make you feel better, though."

"How?" she said.

"You can see now why he kept you out of this," Sam said. "Right? I'm sure he was afraid of your reaction. In addition to your safety. Interesting that women don't seem to have the level of paranoia."

"Two women is too small a sample. It's anecdotal."

"Spoken like a scientist."

She closed her eyes and nodded, as if clearing her mind for the work to come.

"Let's open another."

There were three left. Haley typed in the codes this time. The third popped up a third dialogue box, asking for another code.

"Uh-oh," Sam said. "He hasn't made this one easy and we don't have a code breaker."

They tried a dozen words and then the computer flashed a sign that said no more opportunities to open were available.

"We're cooked," Sam said. "We'll never get in without help. And maybe not then. I'll try for the help, but it's a long shot."

Frick was wondering whether McStott was worth a 1 percent offer, let alone the 20 percent of the take he and Khan had discussed. At Khan's insistence Frick took a call from Rolf.

Rolf spoke first: "Hello?"

"Talk quick," Frick said.

"Okay. Two things: Ben Anderson has been corresponding with people from Homeland Security and various other branches of government. We just have indications of the discussions and meetings, not the substance of them. I'm sure he destroyed any notes.

The bulk of this activity started months ago. It's real," Rolf added unnecessarily.

"What else?"

"I'm closing in on Anderson's meeting place. You know, hideout, or lab, or whatever."

"Enlighten me quickly."

"This first part could be trivial, but we read everything coming in from the field. We asked the deputies to put out an APB for Ben and they threw in his old boat, the Mallard. Someone saw divers going in over the side off a forty-something-foot boat that sounds from the description like it might have been Ben's old boat. But they said its name was Alice 5."

"Why the hell didn't you tell me?"

"I'm telling you now," Rolf said.

Frick's cursing pounded in his head. He wanted to break something. Then he spoke in patronizingly measured tones. "Then let's have a deputy call the people who saw this boat and get a precise location."

"We told Khan about it."

Khan answered immediately. "The boat was between what they call the old lime kiln and Turtle Mountain in a sparsely populated area. There's several different roads in that vicinity. We have some Anderson photos that also help."

"Is there anything in there that might be a laboratory?" Frick asked.

"Yep. That's why I got Rolf on the line with you. They're not done yet, but they've got this preliminary indication."

"I say we go there," Frick said. "Full force. Now."

"That's putting our eggs in one basket," Khan said. "It's a huge gamble, but I'm with you. I have one suggestion, though."

"Keep the real deputies on Lopez? Take our guys to Orcas?"

Khan chuckled. "I like how you think, my brother. But I'd change that just a tad. We keep the deputies on the roads going through this whole area, but we send our guys the last half-mile down all the roads."

"Then do it."

Frick hung up on Rolf.

It was time to go.

"I found another file that's not even protected," Sam said. "It's in a CAD program and it's huge. There's a floor plan, and there's a photo."

He showed Haley and Sarah.

"I know that place," Sarah said, sitting up in bed. "We went on picnics. Waldron Island is across the way." She pointed.

"Yes, it is," Haley said. "I wonder if that's the place?"

"Deer Harbor Road, near Turtle Mountain-Orcas Nob. No Trespassing signs."

Sam and Haley listened carefully as Sarah explained how to get there.

"You know things that don't seem significant," Sam said to Sarah. "That's often the way we find something that nobody wants found."

Haley jumped off the bed. "I need to check on the Harlasens."

"The men took me, but they didn't hurt them," Sarah said, finally wearing out. She looked groggy.

"When you were there, they didn't hurt them," Sam said.

"We need to make sure they're safe now before we run over to Orcas. I'll take the ship's tender," Sam said. "It's fast and will get me close in a hurry."

"On the water you'll be a sitting duck. Not to mention, you're crippled when you get ashore," Haley said. "It's getting worse. I can see it. You won't be able to run, so you'll fight. Outnumbered. Don't go by yourself."

Sam's cell rang, but the signal was bad and the caller disappeared. The phone recorded the number. Using the yacht's satellite phone, he called back.

"This is Eugene."

Harlasen, Sam mouthed to Sarah and Haley.

"Where you at?" Sam asked.

"Out in the forest, up on a hill. I didn't want you to come looking."

"You got away?"

"Yep, and we'll be a little trigger-happy here, I'm afraid. We've got guns. In this forest at night, I think we can take them down."

"I'm sorry about all this, Eugene. Stay put and good luck. Do you know where we get a boat to head to Orcas? I'd like something really fast and a little bigger than a Zodiac tender."

"Neighbor over there on Aleck Bay has a big Boston Whaler anchored out," Harlasen said. "He's really a hobbyist and not a fisherman, but he has some crab pots and runs a couple long lines. Sometimes when he's away, I check them. He's normally got a key under the driver's seat, right-hand side. It's on a ledge and hard to get to. Sometimes I have to put another key in the crack to get it out. If you wreck it, we'll have to replace it."

"Understand." Sam wished him well again, hung up, and called Ernie, who would be craving his sleep by this time. Ernie answered on the first ring; Sam began by explaining what had happened in the meantime. He emphasized the torture: more civil-rights violations for Ernie to pursue.