Maddy studies the face. It could be a photo for a middle school yearbook, an end-of-summer-camp team picture. A smiling blond girl.

As Maddy studies the picture of Chloe, Belinda explodes with anger.

“Somebody is treating that bridge like a buffet,” she says.

“I can help you, Belinda. I can help.”

But the girl just shakes her head, a deep sadness reflected in her eyes.

“I miss my friend so much, Maddy. Chloe just disappeared. She just stopped showing up. If nobody does anything, it’ll keep happening. It’s going to happen to me. It’s just a matter of time.”

“It’s not,” Maddy argues, shaking her head.

“Nobody cares about us poor girls, the ones who have to do anything to survive. We’re just meat in a grinder, and some sicko figured out he can pick and choose. I can get busted for dealing because some of my stuff flows up to the rich side of town. But stuff that happens to people down here stays here, and nobody does a damn thing about it.”

“Not anymore,” Maddy says.

CHAPTER 20

HERE’S SOME FREE advice from the Shadow.

If you really want to keep something secret, here’s how:don’t share the secret information with anyone.That may seem like common sense, but it’s amazing how quickly it can go out the window. Anyone meansanyone.That means even your best friend, your lover, your family, your associates, your assistants, your colleagues… anyone.

I pretty much honor this rule above all others.

That’s why I’m on a macro-line third-level-incognito computer window making my own personal arrangements to travel to Harvard University in Cambridge. Third-level incognito is a system in which all information sent to a recipient self-erases. Unlike almost everything else, online third-level transmissions canneverbe recovered.

Perfect.

I’ve arranged to meet Dr. Atticus Henry, the world’s leading geologist on earth science and abnormal physical earth material. I’ve also made arrangements for teammembers Hawkeye and Tapper to accompany me. True to my obsession to keep secret information secret, I will only inform them half an hour before departure.

I have, of course, already spoken with Dr. Henry about the phenomena at Kyoto and Copenhagen that have stunned the rest of the world.

Dr. Henry is already entrenched in examining the horrible incidents. He’s conducted analyses of earth material taken from the disaster centers. He’ll be sharing his results and opinions with us when we see him.

“I cannot, and will not, transmit my algorithmic theories by internet. Everything I do is watched by potentially adversarial governments, including—I’m sorry to say—our own,” Dr. Henry told me. In other words, “I don’t come to you. You come to me.”

He has made it clear that his work may not be completely accurate, but, he said, “We must begin somewhere, and the sooner the better.”

I couldn’t agree more. We’re on our way.

CHAPTER 21

I’VE NEVER ACTUALLY been to Harvard, not as a student, not as a professor, not even as a guest lecturer.

Even so, I’m probably one of the few people who can say that Harvard wanted me, but I just wasn’t interested. I like a life with action mixed with a heavy dash of glamour.

So while other guys my age were up in Cambridge studying nuclear physics and reading Homer’s poetry in the original Latin, I was in NYC drinking rare Bordeaux with Margo at the 21 Club or dancing with her at the Stork Club.

Anyway, I’m here now, strolling with Tapper and Hawkeye, on Mount Auburn Street, Harvard Yard to our right, the Charles River a few blocks to our left. In a few minutes we’ll meet with Dr. Atticus Henry and start solving the horror of the recent—and literally earth-shattering—problems devastating the world.

“You know what I’ve noticed?” says Hawkeye. “Everyone in this city is incredibly young.”

“Or are we just getting older?” I ask, grinning.

But more than that, there is real worry about these young people’s future. Whatever Tapper and Hawkeye and I might learn up here in Cambridge will be used to help them.

We turn to enter the central square, the famed Yard, and a very cordial uniformed security guard stops us.