The Second Ship (The Rho Agenda #1)(89)

“I’d rather build our own. We can pull up the details off the web. The bugs would have to be low-strength transmitters.”

“Except on the phone line. They could tap that from somewhere else.”

“Okay then, I’ll get to work on the bug detector. How’s your computer interface for controlling the cold fusion tank coming along?”

Suddenly a broad smile lit Jennifer’s face. “Come down to the workshop and I’ll show you.”

Mark followed her back downstairs and into the corner of the garage where they had set up their equipment and the experimental tank. It had been three days since Mark had closely inspected Jennifer’s progress with the control panel. His jaw dropped.

A new display filled with row upon row of pulsing multicolored LED lights hung from the lead shielding on the far side of the tank. A thick bunch of labeled wires connected the LED panel to the main circuit board, while a set of ribbon cables ran between the circuit board and the laptop.

A low whistle escaped from Mark’s lips. “Wow, Sis. You’ve been busy.”

She grinned broadly. “I am so close now I can taste it. You see those readouts?” Jennifer pointed to the panel of flashing colored lights.

“I see a bunch of flashing LEDs.”

“Mark, I figured out how to combine a small group of red, green, and blue LEDs so that each little threesome glows in any of sixteen colors.”

Mark leaned close to the panel. Sure enough, what he had taken to be individual LEDs were little groups of three. How brightly the red, green, or blue parts of each group glowed determined what color you saw.

“Very pretty.”

“Don’t you get it? Each color represents a hexadecimal number. I can glance at this panel and see the values change in all of the computer registers. I can see the code playing out. Not just see it, I can read it.” She paused. “Mark, I’ve learned how to think in Hex.”

“Very exciting.”

Jennifer’s smile faded a bit. “Okay, let me rephrase. I can glance at that panel and tune this thing exactly. It’ll really help with the subspace transmissions.”

“Well why didn’t you say that in the first place? That is great.”

Mark turned to grab the recording equipment he had removed from the Second Ship. “I need to go through all the data on this recorder. You keep working on the subspace controls. We need to get those agents focused away from us and onto Stephenson’s team. I’m afraid we’re going to have to start taking some serious risks.”

Jennifer stared at him as if he’d lost his mind. “Start? What, exactly, do you think we’ve been doing?”

Mark’s eyes locked with Jennifer’s. “I’ve got a feeling that it’s about to get a lot worse.”





Chapter 67





If there was anything on the planet more awkward and uncomfortable than a hospital gown, Heather didn’t know what it was. If the damn thing wasn’t trying to come open at an inopportune moment, it was wadding up uncomfortably when you sat or lay down in it.

The opportunity to slip out of the gown and into her normal attire improved Heather’s mood as much as anything that had happened all day. Even though she’d hoped to be released by ten o’clock that morning, the doctors kept her imprisoned at the hospital until well after noon.

Despite her growing appetite, Heather resisted the mandatory offering from the hospital cafeteria, firm in her determination that the next food to pass between her lips be edible. In an act of family solidarity that she found awe-inspiring, her Mom and Dad waited to have their own lunch until they managed to spring her.

By the time they got back home, Heather was so hungry she had begun questioning her decision to wait. As her mother slid the prepared casserole dish from the refrigerator into the oven, Heather headed upstairs to indulge in a hot bath. She glanced at the floral design on the bubble bath bottle, sniffing it before squeezing a couple of dollops into the tub. Herbal Springtime. Perhaps it could help get the lingering scent of hospital disinfectant out of her nose. One could only hope.

All doubts as to the worthiness of the wait came to an end before the first bite of steaming casserole made its cheesy way from Heather’s fork into her mouth. Her mother was a sorceress who used a ladle instead of a wand. Of that, there could be no doubt.

Although she had been warned that the casserole was hot, Heather found herself having to shift the first bite around in her mouth as she puffed out air in little whooshes to try to keep her tongue from blistering. Even though a chuckle escaped her father’s lips, it didn’t matter. It was still worth it.

The meal had barely ended when there was a knock at the door. It was Mark.

“Everybody decent?”

Heather grinned up at him as he made his way inside, followed by Jennifer. “If we aren’t, then you’re in for a show.”

“Can I offer you two some casserole?” her mother asked.

A look of disappointment creased Mark’s features. “Unfortunately, no. Mom cooked us lunch a while ago. Thank you, though.”

Heather rose from the table, sliding her place setting into the dishwasher before being shooed away by her mother. “I’ll get the kitchen. You go talk with Mark and Jen.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

Heather started to guide her friends to the couch in the living room, but Mark shook his head. “Do you feel up to visiting the workshop for a second?”