Joaquin looked up at his wife and came to a rapid decision. 'Dennis has been involved from the very start,' he lied.

Katherine almost gagged as she realized the depth of Joaquin's betrayal and of Dennis Aubrey's involvement. She overcame her horror and took a deep breath.

'You need to use Dennis's skills to find Charles Purcell,' she said. 'If Purcell takes what he knows to the courts this will all be over.'

'You're coming in on this?' he uttered as he got to his feet.

'I don't have a choice!' she raged. 'You've doomed us both because of your greed. You had everything, the admiration of an entire country, maybe even all of humanity, and you've wasted it because you're like all men: enough is never enough!'

Joaquin sat back down, unable to find anything else to say.

Katherine grabbed her cellphone and shoved it back into her handbag.

'Find Purcell. Then you'll use this device of yours to make sure that nobody finds out anything about what has happened here.'

'What are you going to do?' Joaquin asked.

Katherine shouldered her bag and looked at him in disgust.

'I'm going to the IRIS medical camp in the Dominican Republic,' she replied. 'I'm going to do what IRIS is supposed to be doing, and help people. Going there will help rebuild what's left of my reputation, too. I don't want anything more to do with you until this is all over, understand? If you call me or come near me, I swear I'll kill you myself.'

'But you should be here with me,' Joaquin pleaded. 'We can work this out and-'

'You're finished!' Katherine shouted. 'We're finished! How can you possibly imagine that any decent human being would even consider being in the same room as somebody like you?'

Joaquin stared at his wife for a long moment. 'So you're leaving me, then? You're leaving our kids? You want a divorce?'

Katherine's features were racked with repulsion and her jaw trembled as she spoke.

'There is nothing I won't do for my children,' she repeated, 'even if it means remaining married to a monster like you.'

'Then you will keep silent about all that's happened?'

A tear traced a line down Katherine's perfectly sculpted cheek. She turned her back on him as she headed for the door.

'Thank you,' Joaquin whispered.

Katherine whirled and stormed back to him, leaned down and grabbed his collar in her fist as she shoved her face in front of his.

'You'll do nothing without my say-so, and you'll answer to me from this moment on or I'll scream every single word of what you've done to the Supreme Court and blow what's left of your despicable life right out of the water!'

33.

CAPE CANAVERAL, FLORIDA.

June 28, 14:12 The giant rotor blades of the V-22 Osprey rotated as the aircraft descended toward a landing platform at the space complex, avoiding the huge runway. Ethan Warner looked down at a scattering of unmarked cars forming a defensive phalanx around an Air Force transport. Soldiers with guns surrounded the cavalcade, some of them accompanied by guard dogs.

'What's going on?' he asked Jarvis.

The old man shook his head at Ethan. Don't ask, don't tell, he guessed. Ethan unbuckled himself as the Osprey touched down and a crewman hurried up and guided them aft. The rear ramp of the Osprey had lowered, allowing them to jog down onto the asphalt landing pad amid clouds of dust and sand whipped up by the giant twin rotors.

Ethan was ushered with Lopez out across the asphalt and into the waiting Air Force transport. The vehicle pulled away quickly, armed soldiers sitting silently either side of Ethan and Lopez, their expressions hidden behind sunglasses. Jarvis remained silent as the escort travelled across the vast complex toward ranks of security gates far from the administrative buildings and visitor centers to the east. The escorting unmarked cars peeled away as the transport passed through the gates and eased to a stop alongside a heavily fortified building that looked to Ethan like some kind of bunker. The transport doors opened and the soldiers spilled out into the bright sunshine, weapons at the ready as Ethan and Lopez followed Jarvis out of the transport and through an eight-inch-thick steel door.

The interior of the bunker was cool, the heavy walls sealing it from the blazing sun outside. Bare white walls stared at Ethan and simple gray tiles lined the floor. The bunker was entirely empty but for the industrial elevator shaft in the center. Outside the elevator stood four extremely competent-looking soldiers, each carrying enough weapons and ammunition to start a small war.

'What is this place?' Lopez asked.

'Former observation bunker for watching rocket launches,' Jarvis explained as he gestured toward the elevator. 'Hasn't been used since the fifties.'

Ethan looked at the heavily armed soldiers. If ever a place had screamed 'secret facility', this was it. He glanced questioningly across at Jarvis.

'What's down there?'

A bearded man wearing a light shirt and casual shorts opened the elevator's shutter doors as he beckoned for Ethan, Lopez and Jarvis to follow him.

'Something so classified,' Jarvis explained, 'that there was no real way to protect it except by making it look so uninteresting that nobody would bother investigating it. It can only be accessed via direct clearance from the Chief of Staff of the Air Force, which I obtained earlier this morning when the nature of this case became clear.'

The four guards moved neatly aside as Ethan stepped into the elevator alongside Lopez and Jarvis. The man in the shorts pulled the shutters closed, and with a press of a button they were on their way.

'You knew what we were up against beforehand?' Lopez asked Jarvis.

Ethan replied before Jarvis could.

'Of course he did. It's becoming your modus operandi, Doug, telling us the minimum that we need to know.'

'Official secrets are exactly that,' Jarvis responded. 'Secret. I wouldn't have brought us down here unless it was absolutely necessary.'

Lopez snapped, 'How many deaths does it take before something becomes necessary to you?'

Jarvis sighed, keeping his voice low. The man in shorts remained discreetly silent, standing with his hands behind his back.

'It's not always my call to make, Nicola,' he said, clearly frustrated at the limitations of his influence at the DIA. 'Sometimes it takes a catastrophe to get the top brass to relinquish some of their paranoia and give permission for classified technology like this to be used in non-military investigations. You know the score, both of you. It takes a lot of effort to support you from behind the scenes, and there are plenty of pen-pushing bureaucrats at the Pentagon who would be only too happy to see us shut down.'

Ethan watched as walls of dark earth passed by, braced back by huge steel pillars. Lights set into the bare soil cast shifting shadows through the elevator as it descended into the depths.

'How far down does this go?' Lopez asked.

'Three hundred meters,' came the response from the man in shorts, speaking for the first time. 'Deep enough to prevent any electromagnetic signatures showing up on privately held orbiting cameras or foreign spy satellites.'

'This is Michael Ottaway,' Jarvis said. 'He's our lead scientist here.'

The elevator continued to sink, and then the sound of activity permeated the air as the temperature began to rise. Ethan belatedly realized why Ottaway was wearing shorts. The elevator slowed down and an exit appeared that opened out onto a long, well-lit corridor. Four more guards awaited them and opened the elevator's shutter doors before forming a phalanx and marching away down the corridor.

Ethan followed, flanked by Lopez and Jarvis as they were led to the doors at the far end. The soldiers stopped, and one of them entered a key-code into a pad. The doors hissed open and the soldiers stood aside, allowing Ethan to pass through.

The underground facility was about the size of a basketball court and half-filled with computer terminals manned by an odd assortment of uniformed military figures and scientists whose civilian clothes, almost without exception, included shorts.

Across one wall, a huge screen displayed a digital map of the earth, laced with orange lines mapping the trajectories of what Ethan guessed were satellites or spacecraft.

'This way,' Jarvis said, walking past Ethan and heading toward a large raised platform edged with padded railings, like a giant boxing ring.

Within the platform, a pair of soldiers stood wearing strange dark-gray helmets with visors and blocky-looking gloves. Each stood upon a rolling platform like a running machine. The platforms themselves were supported by a gyroscopic frame that rotated to match the soldier's direction of travel.

'What are they doing?' Lopez asked, watching the two soldiers.

'Retracing the paths of their fallen comrades,' Jarvis explained.

Ethan said nothing as they walked to where a group of men wearing the obligatory shorts were watching a series of plasma screens next to a computer terminal. Ethan spotted a large steel casing descending from the ceiling on the opposite side of the underground facility, a thick bundle of wires and optical fibers spilling from within the casing and snaking their way to the rear of the facility. Across the entire back wall were ranks of what Ethan could tell were supercomputers, all humming as they ran trillions of calculations through immense databanks.

Ottaway gestured to the plasma screens as he turned to Jarvis.

'So, what can I do for you?'

Jarvis handed Ottaway the photograph of Charles Purcell.

'I need you to find this man and let us follow him up until the present day, right this moment, if possible.'

Ottaway took the photograph from Jarvis and glanced at it.

'Do we have a name, address, where we should be looking, all that kind of stuff?'

'You will,' Jarvis said. 'His name's Charles Purcell and he used to work upstairs at NASA. Start searching in Miami.'

'Okay, no problem. It'll take us about ten minutes to track him down.'

Ottaway turned and pressed a button on his computer before speaking into a microphone that he clipped around his ear.

'Okay, change of plan. We need you to perform a search-and-identify mission. Stand by.'

The two soldiers on the platform stopped moving and waited with their hands clasped before them as Ottaway began scanning the image of Charles Purcell into his computer. Lopez turned to Jarvis.

'Okay, why don't you quit the cloak-and-dagger and tell us what this place is?'

'This,' Jarvis replied, 'is Project Watchman.'

'What does it do?' Ethan asked.

Ottaway looked up from his computer.

'Watchman is a classified program handled by the Air Force and NASA. Put simply, we collaborate with the Air Force's spy satellite program, gathering visual intelligence from global sources, and crunch the data streams here at this facility to produce a three-dimensional representation of the entire planet.'

Ethan hesitated for a moment as his brain attempted to digest and process what he had just heard.

'You mean this is some kind of virtual-reality device?'

'In a sense,' Ottaway confirmed. 'But this is a bit more than just virtual reality.'

Jarvis grinned as he looked at Ethan.

'Charles Purcell seems somehow to be able to see into the future. It would also appear likely that Joaquin Abell, or somebody within IRIS, possesses that same ability. But here, we can do something that they cannot.'

Michael Ottaway tapped a button on his keyboard and an image of Charles Purcell appeared, along with a progress bar emblazoned with the word SEARCHING. He turned to look at Ethan.

'We can look into the past.'

34.

IRIS, DEEP BLUE RESEARCH STATION, FLORIDA STRAITS.

June 28, 14:18 Joaquin Abell stood alone in his private quarters, his hands behind his back as he looked out of a portal into a bleak, dark, underwater wilderness. Thick glass protected him from the freezing water and the immense pressure outside, but the movement of the occasional fish fascinated him. Small, almost insignificant creatures, and yet they were perfectly adapted to the world in which they lived, one in which humans required the benefits of technology to survive.

He felt strangely alone now that Katherine had gone. The darkness outside seemed a little closer than it once had, his world devoid of meaning. Joaquin closed his eyes and struggled with an unfamiliar emotional turmoil. He called out to it, reeled it in, and then recoiled from the sensations that surged deep through his core, emotions that were as alien to him as the ancient creatures scurrying across the seabed. He crushed the shame and regret, for they were the true obstacles to enlightenment, the Achilles' Heel of success. Stay the course, he told himself, and all will be resolved. There is no gain without loss.

He felt uniquely privileged, standing down here, immune to the dangers of the world, his wealth and the technology of mankind enveloping him securely. And now he possessed a gift like no other, the ability to predetermine his own future, to see literally what no man had ever seen before. Mankind had ceased long ago in his subservience to his environment, to be subject to the harsh judgment of Mother Nature over those of her children who failed to adapt and thus to survive. But never had mankind believed it possible that he need not be enslaved by the bonds of cause and effect.

Joaquin breathed deeply in the knowledge that he would never again fail in any endeavor, never again be defeated. For centuries, millennia even, mankind had dreamed of travelling through time, of witnessing events from the past and those yet to come in the future, yet for all of that time the scientists and the dreamers had been doomed to failure. Only Joaquin, by way of his father's unique vision, had been able to come to the realization that the notion of travelling through time was itself the flaw in mankind's thinking. Just as it was not physically possible, with current technology, to travel through time, it was, in fact, not even necessary.

One only had to see through time.

The past surrounded every species that possessed sight, even the glass of the window through which Joaquin watched was, ever so slightly, a part of history. The distance is the past. Space is the past. Warp that space enough, wrap it into a ball so tightly that not even light can escape, and then the path of time becomes so distorted that, for an observer close to its immense influence, time elsewhere runs faster.

'So simple,' Joaquin whispered.

'Sir?'

Joaquin blinked and turned to see one of his men holding a satellite phone. Joaquin strode across to him and took the phone in his hand.

'Abell.'

The monotone voice on the other end of the line sounded out of breath.

'It is done.'

Olaf Jorgenson had proven his loyalty to Joaquin a thousand times and, despite everything, Joaquin knew that without his friend, much of what he had achieved so far would never have occurred. However, what nature had blessed the mighty Nordic with in terms of physical prowess it had taken from him in intelligence. The fool had exposed himself, and therefore was now a liability.

'The authorities have a photo of you, Olaf,' he said. 'It is only a matter of time before they hunt you down.'