Impact

87

Chaudry stared at Ford with a pair of cold eyes. "I was protecting that crucial piece of classified information that you so carelessly left in your jacket pocket."

The others were looking on, startled.

"Really?" Ford said quietly. "Then why not say something to me directly? Why wait until everyone was out of the room and then steal it? Sorry, Dr. Chaudry: that paper was bait and you're the fish that took it."

"Come now," said Chaudry, abruptly relaxing. "This is absurd. You can't possibly believe what you're saying. We're all under a strain. What in the world would I want with that password? I'm mission director--I have access to all the classified data."

"But not to the location, which is on that drive. That's what your clients have been after all along--the location." Ford glanced at the group, which hadn't yet reacted. He could read skepticism in their eyes. "It all started with Freeman. He was murdered by a professional assassin specifically for that hard drive."

"Absurd," said Chaudry. "The killing was thoroughly investigated. It was a homeless man."

"Who was in charge of the investigation? The FBI--with the heavy involvement of NPF security and you, personally."

"This is a blood libel on my reputation!" said Chaudry angrily.

"One can speculate how this worked," said Ford. "You didn't do this for money. This was too big for money. You realized long ago that Freeman had discovered an alien machine on Mars, although Freeman himself hadn't quite gotten that far with his conclusions. So you fired him to keep the knowledge to yourself. And then you learned he'd stolen a classified hard drive. Somehow decrypted it, copied it, gotten it out. Something even you couldn't do. What an opportunity for your clients to get all the crucial information. And then you learned that Corso continued the work. Not only that, he built on it. He discovered the location of the machine. And it was on that hard drive. So you told your handlers, and they went to get it, killed Corso and his mother. But they didn't get the drive--because I found it first."

Chaudry faced the stupefied group. "This man has no proof, no evidence, just a crazy conspiracy story. We have work to do."

Ford glanced around at the group, and saw skepticism, even hostility, in their eyes.

"Freeman was killed by a piano-wire garrote," said Ford. "No homeless drug addict would kill that way. No: the killer wanted information--the hard disk. That's what the garrote was for. You wrap that around someone's neck, they're gonna talk. Except Freeman."

"What a fairy tale," said Chaudry with an easy laugh. "Why are you listening to him?"

Suddenly Marjory Leung spoke up. "I believe it. I believe Dr. Chaudry is guilty."

"Marjory, have you lost your mind?"

She turned to him. "I'll never forget what you said about Pakistan, India, and China. That evening?" She flushed. "That evening we spent together? You said that Pakistan's destiny was to become a world technological power. That the U.S. was finished, that it was spoiled by wealth and materialism and easy living, that we'd lost our work ethic, that our educational system was collapsing. And I'll never forget when you said that China and India were too corrupt and would eventually lose out to Pakistan."

"Pakistan?" Lockwood said. "But I thought Dr. Chaudry was from India."

Leung turned. "He's Kashmiri. Big difference."

Chaudry remained grimly silent.

"I know how it works," said Leung. "I've experienced it myself. A few of my Chinese colleagues, they drop a hint here, a hint there. They think that because I'm ethnic Chinese that I should naturally pass on information to help their space program. It burns me up. Because I'm an American. I'd never do that. But you--I know what you said that night. I know how you think. That's what this is all about: you were passing information to Pakistan."

"It wasn't about money," said Ford. "But something a lot deeper. Patriotism, perhaps, or religion. This is the greatest discovery of all time. Very, very tempting to get your hands on it, to own it. Who knows what technological advances could be gleaned from an alien machine--a weapon no less. And then when a hard drive with all the information on it miraculously escaped from NPF, there was the opportunity."

"What rubbish," said Chaudry.

"I knew the mole was probably in this room. So I set up a little sting operation. With the password. And look who we caught."

"You finished?" said Chaudry coolly.

Ford glanced around, meeting a mass of skeptical faces.

"Well, well, that's quite a story," said Chaudry. "There's only one problem with it: it's all supposition. It's true I had a little thing with Marjory, like so many others at NPF. Bad judgment. But I'm no spy."

"Oh yeah?" said Leung. "Then why did Freeman tell me, right before he was fired, that you wanted his entire analysis of the gamma ray data? Only to get it and tell him the next day you'd fire him if he kept working on it? Why did you go to such great lengths to discourage anyone at NPF from looking too closely at the gamma ray data? You got Derkweiler here to fire Corso--because he got interested in gamma rays."

Comprehension blossomed on Derkweiler's face. "That's right. And then you asked me for all of Corso's gamma ray analysis. I wondered why you were suddenly so interested."

Chaudry said, "What utter nonsense. I have no recollection of that."

"That was just a week ago."

"I won't stand for these ridiculous accusations."

Ford held up the slip with the password on it. "You could have asked me for this. But you didn't. You stole it. Why?"

"I told you, it was for security reasons. You just left it in your coat pocket."

Leung said, "You asked me repeatedly, that night: 'What did Freeman tell you about the gamma rays?' " She paused, then pointed a trembling finger at him. "You . . . are a murderer."

"Pakistan?" said Lockwood, finally speaking up. "But that's a backward country. What in hell would they want with information like this? They have no space program, no science, nothing."

"I beg to differ," said Chaudry, his voice icy. "We are the country of A. Q. Khan, one of the greatest scientists who ever lived. We have the bomb, long-range missiles, uranium enrichment. But most importantly, we have God on our side. Everything that happens is Fate, which is another word for God's plan. The die was cast long ago. Those who think they can affect the true course of things are delusional. Einstein called it Block Time. We call it Fate. Who, I ask you, is more powerful than Allah?"

Ford turned to one of the duty officers standing dumbly in the hall. "I think you better take this man into custody."

Nobody moved. The duty guard seemed frozen into place. All that could be heard was Chaudry's hard breathing.

Mickelson removed his sidearm and pointed it at Chaudry. "You heard the man. Cuff him."

Chaudry held his hands out, crossed his wrists. His face twisted into a smile. "Please."

As the cuffs went on, Chaudry went on quietly, "It doesn't matter now. You're finished as a country and you know it. We are pure and we have God's favor. In the long run, we will prevail. Mark my words: the future belongs to Pakistan. We will defeat India, God willing, and usher in an era of Pakistani science that will dazzle the world."

Tucking the gun back into his rumpled uniform, Mickelson spoke sharply to the duty officer. "Get him out of here." He turned to the group. "We've got ninety minutes before we brief the president, so pull yourselves together."

Ford said, "Now that we've exposed the mole, I can give you the location of the machine. Because it's not on Mars at all."

The group, shaken up, fell silent.

"It's on Deimos."