McKinney got up and walked aimlessly around the room, feeling the cool stone on her feet. What reason did she have to believe what they’d told her?
She was a scientist, and science required evidence to sustain a hypothesis. The operative hypothesis being that this was a government-sanctioned top-secret military operation to defend against deadly drone attacks. But where was the proof to sustain that hypothesis? Over the past decade, half a dozen illegal black ops run by rogue elements in the military had been revealed-assassinations, torture… Maybe these people weren’t even with the military-maybe they were private operators, looking to influence government policy. Maybe they were agents of a foreign government. What did she really know?
She thought back over the past forty-eight hours. They had flown here in private aircraft, to a private air terminal at Kansas City-bypassing customs and Homeland Security entirely. Smugglers could have done the same. Did she really know she’d been at an army base back in Wiesbaden-or that it was even Germany? It was dark. She saw a couple of men outside in uniform. She saw offices and army insignias, but truthfully, how did she know that wasn’t just some airport office somewhere? She hadn’t seen any military cargo planes or fighter jets.
The attacks were real enough-they’d been in the news for months-but if these were the people behind them, they could easily have provided all this footage to her. But why would they need to deceive her? Could they be trying to trick her into helping them? The iterations of conjecture were stacking up fast.
What did she really know?
She felt confident she was in Kansas-the highway signs, the cars and businesses on the way in. She was in the United States. There was supposed to be rule of law here.
She padded over to the bathroom and ran some cold water in the sink. She leaned over and splashed her face. Was this just lack of sleep making her paranoid?
Why not be paranoid? She’d been kidnapped-and by people with a serious amount of resources who seemed focused on robotic war using her social insect algorithms. And getting ready to use her as bait for a drone attack-one they might be running as well, for all she knew.
McKinney walked around the room, looking for cameras. Nothing apparent. But then she knew cameras could fit on the head of a pin now. She caught sight of herself in the mirror above the bureau dresser-looking like a prisoner with her short brown hair, in her Cornell T-shirt and sweats, or like some New York branch of the Baader-Meinhof gang. Lean and crazed. The blue light and shadows made her look twice as dramatic. She burst out laughing-almost hysterically-for several moments. If her father and her brothers could see her now, what would they say? Caught up in international espionage. Absolutely laughable.
She grew serious again. McKinney had to know what was going on in this place. Asking questions wasn’t enough. It was time to acquire some hard evidence.
She approached the hallway door and pressed her ear against the wood, listening for any movement outside. Everything was quiet. Satisfied, she carefully turned the dead bolt and then the lever handle. She pulled the door open wide enough to look out both ways down the corridor. She heard only the light buzz of overhead lights. No cameras visible, although there were sensors up on the walls, smoke detectors, sprinkler heads, and the like.
The coast seemed clear, so she stepped out into the hall and started moving left, in the direction she’d entered the day before with Foxy. As she passed the other numbered doors, she heard the sound of snoring from somewhere. It faded as she continued, and soon she came to a T-intersection marked by fire doors held open by magnetic retainers. She peered around the corner.
The adjoining corridor was wider, and the sound of metal clanging and occasional shouts was louder to the left, toward the garage. She turned the other direction, where the hallway continued to another T-intersection with no doors in sight. She decided to walk purposefully in the center of the hallway, head held high. Nonchalant.
Once at the corner she headed decisively left and bumped straight into a closed door. It had some sort of electronic sensor lock with a glowing red LED light over its handle. McKinney turned back the other way without skipping a beat and headed down the white hallway lined with blondwood doors. The other end of the corridor also terminated in a closed door, but she didn’t see any red LEDs over its door handle. She marched toward it.
On the way she passed another door, behind which she could hear muffled talking. She slowed to listen and heard radio static, then indecipherable radio voices. Then several people talking in a foreign language. McKinney cautiously approached the door and pressed her ear to it.
A man’s voice was talking in a guttural language she didn’t recognize. Maybe Russian?
The sudden piercing caw of a raven close by made her literally jump and turn. There, perched on a fire extinguisher sign jutting out from the wall, was a large black raven, examining her curiously.
“You scared the crap out of me.” She approached the bird, while it continued to regard her calmly. McKinney could see the raven wore some sort of fiber-optic headset that was barely visible until she got within a few feet. The bird stepped out onto the edge of the sign and flapped its wings, caw ing again.
“No one likes a snitch, Huginn.”
The bird caw ed back.
A familiar voice spoke nearby. “That’s Muninn.”
Startled again, McKinney turned to see Odin standing in the corridor, not far behind her.
“Can’t sleep?”
She marched up to him. “I heard someone talking in a foreign language behind that door.”
“You still don’t trust me?”
She pointed. “The more I think about it, the more suspicious I am. Why aren’t we on a military base? Why can’t anyone show me government credentials or any proof who you are? Why am I locked up here?”
Odin nodded slowly. He appeared to be carefully considering his answer.
Muninn caw ed again behind her.
McKinney pointed at the bird. “And what the hell are you doing using animals? How is this ethical?”
“You need sleep, Professor.”
“What I need is proof that I’m not helping bad people do bad things.”
He pointed to the raven. “Huginn and Muninn fly outside every day and always return of their own free will. If they regarded you as a friend, they wouldn’t have sounded the alarm.”
“You’re using them.”
Odin extended his arm and Muninn flew over to perch upon it, then climbed onto his shoulder. “That’s a cynical view of symbiosis.”
“Training ravens to help fight your wars is hardly symbiosis.”
“I sometimes wonder who’s training who. You know what they say about field research: ‘Never study an animal smarter than yourself.’” He approached the door McKinney had been listening at and pounded heavily on the wood.
The radio chatter beyond stopped, and they heard heavy footsteps approach the door. It pulled open a crack, and a wrinkled, gray-haired man with a ponytail and liver spots answered. A cigarette was tucked in the corner of his mouth, smoke curling around him. He spoke in a slight Russian accent. “What the hell are you pounding on door for? You scared the hell out of me.” The man’s eyes darted from Odin to McKinney, and his expression turned to a slight grin. He pulled the cigarette out of his mouth and opened the door further. “Well, good evening, dear lady…” He extended his hand, but Odin interrupted him.
“Knock it off, Rocky. Tell the good professor here why you speak Russian.”
The man scowled and opened the door all the way. “Because I’m Russian, you asshole. Why?” Behind him McKinney could see an electronics lab littered with circuit boards and drone aircraft components.