Sole Survivor

Mark.
        Taking the remote control they had gotten from the watchman, Joshua walked along the driveway toward the entrance gate, talking on the cellular phone as he went.
        Dogs of warm Santa Ana wind chased cat-quick leaves and curls of papery melaleuca bark along the blacktop.
        “How do you even know about me?” Rose asked Mark.
        “When any enterprise is launched with a one-billion-dollar trust fund, like ours,” Mark said, “it sure doesn't take long to get up to speed. Besides, computers and data technology are what we're about.”
        “What enterprise?” Joe asked.
        The answer was the same mystifying response that Joshua had given on the beach, “In finna face.”
        “And what's that mean?”
        “Later, Joe,” Rose promised. “Go on, Mark.”
        “Well, so, from day one, we've had the funds to try to keep track of all promising research in every discipline, worldwide, that could conceivably lead to the epiphany we expect.”
        “Maybe so,” Rose said, “but you people have been around two years, while the largest part of my research for the past seven years has been conducted under the tightest imaginable security.”
        “Doctor, you showed enormous promise in your field until you were about thirty-seven-and then suddenly your work appeared to come almost to a complete halt except for a minor paper published here or there from time to time. You were a Niagara of creativity-and then went dry overnight.”
        “And that indicates what to you?”
        “It's the signature pattern of a scientist who's been co-opted by the defence establishment or some other branch of government with sufficient power to enforce a total information blackout. So when we see something like that, we start trying to find out exactly where you're at work. Finally we located you at Teknologik, but not at any of their well-known and accessible facilities. A deep subterranean, biologically secure complex near Manassas, Virginia. Something called ‘Project Ninety-nine.’”
        While he listened intently to the conversation, Joe watched as, out at the end of the long driveway, the ornate electric gate rolled aside.
        “How much do you know about what we do on Project Ninety-nine?” Rose asked.
        “Not enough,” Mark said.
        “How can you know anything at all?”
        “When I say we track ongoing research worldwide, I don't mean that we limit ourselves to the same publications and shared data banks that any science library has available to it.”
        With no animosity, Rose said, “That's a nice way of saying you try to penetrate computer security systems, hack your way in, break encryptions.”
        “Whatever. We don't do it for profit. We don't economically exploit the information we acquire. It's simply our mission, the search we were created to undertake.”
        Joe was surprised by his own patience. Although he was learning things by listening to them talk-the basic mystery only grew deeper. Yet he was prepared to wait for answers. The bizarre experience with the Polaroid snapshot in the banquet room had left him shaken. Now that he'd had time to think about what had happened, the synesthesia seemed to be but prelude to some revelation that was going to be more shattering and humbling than he had previously imagined. He remained committed to learning the truth, but now instinct warned him that he should allow the revelations to wash over him in small waves instead of in one devastating tsunami.
        Joshua had gone through the open gate and was standing along the Pacific Coast Highway.
        Over the eastern hills, the swollen moon ascended yellow-orange, and the warm wind seemed to blow down out of it.
        Mark said, “You were one of thousands of researchers whose work we followed-though you were of somewhat special interest because of the extreme secrecy at Project Ninety-nine. Then, a year ago, you left Manassas with something from the project, and overnight you were the most wanted person in the country. Even after you supposedly died aboard that airliner in Colorado. Even then… people were looking for you, lots of people, expending considerable resources, searching frantically for a dead woman-which seemed pretty weird to us.”
        Rose said nothing to encourage him. She seemed tired.
        Joe took her hand. She was trembling, but she squeezed his hand as if to assure him that she was all