Duncan said. "We squared off the dome's interior walls for convenience. Because of the building's strong insulating structure, the temperature tends to be a uniform seventy-two degrees in both summer and winter, with a little help from a fireplace in each room."
"Solar panels and batteries provide the electricity," Chad said. "A backup generator kicks in if necessary."
"The drinking water comes from a well under the bunker, so it can't be poisoned. On top, sunlight comes through a ventilation shaft and gets reflected by a system of mirrors that distribute the sunlight, so the rooms seem to have windows," Tracy said. "It's one of the most energy-efficient buildings imaginable."
"But with the entrance controlled electronically, if the power fails, we'll be trapped," Prescott said.
"There's a manual override on the door. Plus a second way out." Duncan pointed toward a metal door at the end of the corridor. "It has a knob, and a lever for a dead-bolt lock. But on the outside, there's nothing--no knob, no key slot, no way to pick the lock and get in."
Prescott breathed a little easier.
"Is anybody hungry?" Chad rubbed his hands together.
"That depends," Tracy said. "Who's doing the cooking? You?"
"None other."
"In that case, I'm starved."
Chad had a reputation for being an impressive cook. "Mr. Prescott, are you a vegetarian? Do you have food allergies?"
"I can eat anything."
Cavanaugh silently concurred, remembering the shelves of carbohydrate-rich food at the warehouse.
"Beef Stroganoff coming up," Chad said.
"Easy on the cream this time," Tracy said.
"Hey, if you're going to put restrictions on a genius at work ..."
"I'm trying to watch my figure."
"I'm watching your figure, too."
"Can you believe the way this guy talks to me?"
"While they sort this out," Duncan told Prescott, "why don't you get settled. If you enjoy tobacco, we have a room with various smoking materials."
"No." Prescott looked horrified by the thought.
"In that case, your room--smoke-free--is the third on the left in this corridor. I imagine a hot shower and some clothes that fit you would be welcome. There's a bar. Satellite television. A sauna. You've been through a lot. Perhaps you can relieve the strain enough to take a nap."
Chapter 5.
"What do you think of him?" Duncan asked after he and Cavanaugh watched Prescott enter his room. Letting Chad and Tracy go ahead with their various duties, the two men crossed the living room toward a door to the right of the fireplace; it led to an office.
"He doesn't have much of a personality, but he's an ideal client," Cavanaugh said. "He did exactly what I told him. He's overweight and out of shape, but he sucked it up and did what was necessary. Sure, he almost lost his lunch from being afraid, but he trusted me and never panicked to the point of losing control. Everything considered, he kind of impressed me."
"Anything else?"
"He's smart."
"Of course. He's a biochemist."
"Likes to learn. Asks a lot of questions."
"My arrangement with him was via telephone and an electronic transfer of funds," Duncan said. "He insisted that he couldn't meet me in person."
"Now we know why." Cavanaugh paused at the entrance to the offices as Duncan went in.
"Why didn't he tell me on the phone what his problem is?" Duncan eased his tall, slender frame into an Aeron chair behind a desk.
"Maybe he didn't know if he could trust us," Cavanaugh said. "He wanted to wait until he assessed one of us face-to-face."
Duncan thought about it. "But he trusted us enough to tell us where he was hiding. That isn't consistent."
"Not necessarily. Since he couldn't come to us, he didn't have a choice about letting one of us come to him," Cavanaugh said. "Besides, at the warehouse, he used TV cameras to study me. If anything looked suspicious, all he had to do was shut down communications, and I still wouldn't have known where he was."
"Do you think he understands what it truly means to disappear? Is he prepared to accept
"Solar panels and batteries provide the electricity," Chad said. "A backup generator kicks in if necessary."
"The drinking water comes from a well under the bunker, so it can't be poisoned. On top, sunlight comes through a ventilation shaft and gets reflected by a system of mirrors that distribute the sunlight, so the rooms seem to have windows," Tracy said. "It's one of the most energy-efficient buildings imaginable."
"But with the entrance controlled electronically, if the power fails, we'll be trapped," Prescott said.
"There's a manual override on the door. Plus a second way out." Duncan pointed toward a metal door at the end of the corridor. "It has a knob, and a lever for a dead-bolt lock. But on the outside, there's nothing--no knob, no key slot, no way to pick the lock and get in."
Prescott breathed a little easier.
"Is anybody hungry?" Chad rubbed his hands together.
"That depends," Tracy said. "Who's doing the cooking? You?"
"None other."
"In that case, I'm starved."
Chad had a reputation for being an impressive cook. "Mr. Prescott, are you a vegetarian? Do you have food allergies?"
"I can eat anything."
Cavanaugh silently concurred, remembering the shelves of carbohydrate-rich food at the warehouse.
"Beef Stroganoff coming up," Chad said.
"Easy on the cream this time," Tracy said.
"Hey, if you're going to put restrictions on a genius at work ..."
"I'm trying to watch my figure."
"I'm watching your figure, too."
"Can you believe the way this guy talks to me?"
"While they sort this out," Duncan told Prescott, "why don't you get settled. If you enjoy tobacco, we have a room with various smoking materials."
"No." Prescott looked horrified by the thought.
"In that case, your room--smoke-free--is the third on the left in this corridor. I imagine a hot shower and some clothes that fit you would be welcome. There's a bar. Satellite television. A sauna. You've been through a lot. Perhaps you can relieve the strain enough to take a nap."
Chapter 5.
"What do you think of him?" Duncan asked after he and Cavanaugh watched Prescott enter his room. Letting Chad and Tracy go ahead with their various duties, the two men crossed the living room toward a door to the right of the fireplace; it led to an office.
"He doesn't have much of a personality, but he's an ideal client," Cavanaugh said. "He did exactly what I told him. He's overweight and out of shape, but he sucked it up and did what was necessary. Sure, he almost lost his lunch from being afraid, but he trusted me and never panicked to the point of losing control. Everything considered, he kind of impressed me."
"Anything else?"
"He's smart."
"Of course. He's a biochemist."
"Likes to learn. Asks a lot of questions."
"My arrangement with him was via telephone and an electronic transfer of funds," Duncan said. "He insisted that he couldn't meet me in person."
"Now we know why." Cavanaugh paused at the entrance to the offices as Duncan went in.
"Why didn't he tell me on the phone what his problem is?" Duncan eased his tall, slender frame into an Aeron chair behind a desk.
"Maybe he didn't know if he could trust us," Cavanaugh said. "He wanted to wait until he assessed one of us face-to-face."
Duncan thought about it. "But he trusted us enough to tell us where he was hiding. That isn't consistent."
"Not necessarily. Since he couldn't come to us, he didn't have a choice about letting one of us come to him," Cavanaugh said. "Besides, at the warehouse, he used TV cameras to study me. If anything looked suspicious, all he had to do was shut down communications, and I still wouldn't have known where he was."
"Do you think he understands what it truly means to disappear? Is he prepared to accept
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