That’s not good...
Around the room, various objects are identified. Weapons. Maps. Computers. Even the view through the window is correctly identified as Beverly-Salem Harbor. But when I turn toward Lilly and Maigo, the names disappear, replaced by blinking dots. The words ‘identity unknown’ appear over Maigo, which is to be expected, but a more disturbing message is displayed over Lilly, ‘Dark Matter identified.’
Dark Matter?
Before I can ask what it might mean, Watson presses the button again, erasing the words. “Watch what happens now,” he says, and he claps his hands twice. The lights go out.
“Seriously?” I say. “Who installed a clapper?”
“I put it in when I was pregnant,” Cooper says. “When walking wasn’t fun.”
A hundred different jokes flit through my mind, but they’re all silenced by what happens next. For a moment, the room is displayed in standard shades of green night vision. But then I can see. Perfectly. Well, almost. Colors flicker to life as I look around, slowly at first, and then as fast as I can move, including clothing and faces. “Are the lights on?”
“You can see fine, right?” Watson says.
“Perfectly.”
“The goggles send information to a server and then receive color information. It all happens in real time. Whatever computer is on the other end must be amazing, like quantum amazing, storing data on everything—people, places, everyday objects, exotic objects, and then using that information to colorize the wearer’s night vision.”
“Or identify targets.”
“Right,” Watson says, “And I was able to trace the signal back to its source. Back to the super-computer’s location. They’re in Lompoc, California, north of Los Angeles.”
“Uh,” Cooper says in her tone that says she’s about to point out something obvious that the rest of us missed, but shouldn’t have. I turn to her colorized face, her hair tied back tight, her eyes looking at me over the thick, black-rimmed glasses. “If the goggles are communicating with a computer operated by the people who designed these things, and who nearly killed Hawkins and Hudson in Oregon, isn’t it likely that we’re not only receiving data, but sending it?”
Watson’s response is quick. He yanks the wires attached to the goggles, tearing them out. Then he stands, pulls the goggles from my face and slams them down on the hardwood floor.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “Damn. I’m sorry.”
“GPS could still be active,” Maigo points out, and I wonder how she knows about such things, despite Watson’s revelation that he’s been teaching her.
Watson shoves his way past the group and tosses the goggles into the fireplace and douses them with the lighter fluid Woodstock likes to use when setting a fire. The ambiance is nice, especially during the winter, but I think Woodstock just likes setting fires, which is once again proved when he quickly strikes a match and tosses it into the fireplace. The goggles catch, slowly melting into acrid smelling slag. Happily, the flue is open and most of the foul chemical smoke rises up and out the brick chimney.
“Who did you look at?” Collins asks me, but the real question, barely disguised, is who did they see.
“Everyone,” I say. “Except for me, which is good.”
“How is that good?” Hawkins asks.
“Because I’m supposed to be dead,” I say. “Probably better if they continue believing that.”
“But you looked at me,” he says.
“You were covered in mud in Oregon. They won’t make the match.”
“But they know we have the goggles,” Cooper says. I have a love/hate relationship with how often she’s right.
“You could have recovered them while looking for us,” I say. “And that Specter guy spared us and gave us the goggles for a reason.”
“Maybe to track us down,” Hawkins says.
“The FC-P’s location isn’t exactly a secret from other government agencies,” I say. “They wouldn’t need—”
“Not you,” Hawkins says, glancing toward Lilly.
Shit.
Collins places her hand on my arm. “Did it identify either of the girls?”
“Not Maigo,” I say.
“They know who I am?” Lilly asks, sounding surprised and nervous.
I shake my head. “You were identified as ‘Dark Matter.’” I turn to Hawkins. “Any idea what that means?”