but I can tell you some important things we have found out about them.”

Honeymoon said: “Go ahead, please.”

“First of all, linguistic analysis of the threat message tells us we’re dealing not with a lone individual, but with a group.”

Kincaid said: “Well, two people, at least.”

Judy glared at Kincaid, but he did not meet her eye.

Honeymoon said irritably: “Which is it, two or a group?”

Judy felt herself blush. “The message was composed by a man and typed by a woman, so there are at least two. We don’t yet know if there are more.”

“Okay. But please be exact.”

This was not going well.

Judy pressed on. “Point two: These people are not insane.”

Kincaid said: “Well, not clinically. But they sure as hell aren’t normal.” He laughed as if he had said something witty.

Judy silently cursed him for undermining her. “People who commit crimes of violence can be divided into two kinds, organized and disorganized. The disorganized kind act on the spur of the moment, use whatever weapons come to hand, and choose their victims at random. They’re the real crazies.”

Honeymoon was interested. “And the other kind?”

“The organized ones plan their crimes, carry their weapons with them, and attack victims who have been selected beforehand using some logical criteria.”

Kincaid said: “They’re just crazy in a different way.”

Judy tried to ignore him. “Such people may be sick, but they are not looney tunes. We can think of them as rational, and try to anticipate what they might do.”

“All right. And the Hammer of Eden people are organized.”

“Judging by their threat message, yes.”

“You rely a great deal on this linguistic analysis,” Honeymoon said skeptically.

“It’s a powerful tool.”

Kincaid put in: “It’s no substitute for careful investigative work. But in this case, it’s all we’ve got.”

The implication seemed to be that they had to fall back on linguistic analysis because Judy had failed to do the legwork. Feeling desperate, she struggled on. “We’re dealing with serious people — which means that if they can’t cause an earthquake, they may attempt something else.”

“Such as?”

“One of the more usual terrorist acts. Explode a bomb, take a hostage, murder a prominent figure.”

Kincaid said: “Assuming they have the capability, of course. So far we’ve nothing to indicate that.”

Judy took a deep breath. There was something she had to say, and she could not avoid it. “However, I’m not prepared to rule out the possibility that they really could cause an earthquake.”

Honeymoon said: “What?”

Kincaid laughed scornfully.

Judy said stubbornly: “It’s not likely, but it’s conceivable. That’s what I was told by California’s leading expert, Professor Quercus. I’d be failing in my duty if I didn’t tell you.”

Kincaid leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs. “Judy has told you the textbook answers, Al,” he said in a we’re-all-boys-together tone of voice. “Now maybe I should tell you how it looks from the perspective of a certain amount of age and experience.”

Judy stared at him. I’ll get you for this if it’s the last thing I do, Kincaid. You’ve spent this entire meeting putting me down. But what if there really is an earthquake, you asshole? What will you say to the relatives of the dead?

“Please go on,” Honeymoon said to Kincaid.

“These people can’t cause an earthquake and they don’t give a flying fuck about power plants. My instinct tells me this is a guy trying to impress his girlfriend. He’s got the governor freaked out, he’s got the FBI running around like blue-assed flies, and the whole thing is on the John Truth radio show every night. Suddenly he’s a big shot, and she’s, like, wow!”

Judy felt totally humiliated. Kincaid had let her lay out her findings and then poured scorn on everything she had said. He had obviously planned this, and she was now sure that he had deliberately misled her about the time of the meeting in the hope that she would show up late. The whole thing was a strategy for discrediting her and at the same time making Kincaid look better. She felt sick.

Honeymoon stood up suddenly. “I’m going to advise the governor to take no action on this threat.” He added dismissively: “Thank you both.”

Judy realized it was too late to ask him to open the door to dialogue with the terrorists. The moment had passed. And any suggestion of hers would be nixed by Kincaid anyway. She felt despairing. What if it’s real? What if they actually can do it?

Kincaid said: “Any time we can be of assistance, you just let us know.”

Honeymoon looked faintly scornful. He hardly needed an invitation to use the services of the FBI. But he politely held out his hand to shake.

A moment later Judy and Kincaid were outside.

Judy remained silent as they walked around the Horseshoe and through the lobby into the marble hallway. There Kincaid stopped and said: “You did just fine in there, Judy. Don’t you worry about a thing.” He could not conceal his smirk.

She was determined not to let him see how rattled she was. She wanted to scream at him, but she forced herself to say calmly: “I think we did our job.”

“Sure we did. Where are you parked?”

“In the garage across the street.” She jerked a thumb.

“I’m the opposite side. See you later.”

“You bet.”

Judy watched him walk away, then she turned and went in the other direction.

Crossing the street, she saw a See’s candy store. She went in and bought some chocolates.

Driving back to San Francisco, she ate the whole box.

7

Priest needed physical activity to keep him from going crazy with tension. After the meeting in the temple he went to the vineyard and started weeding. It was a hot day, and he soon worked up a sweat and took off his shirt.

Star worked beside him. After an hour or so she looked at her watch. “Time for a break,” she said. “Let’s go listen to the news.”

They sat in Priest’s car and turned on the radio. The bulletin was identical to the one they had heard earlier. Priest ground his teeth in frustration. “Damn, the governor has to say something soon!”

Star said: “We don’t expect him to give in right away, do we?”

“No, but I thought there would be some message, maybe just a hint of a concession. Hell, the idea of a freeze on new power plants ain’t exactly wacko. Millions of people in California probably agree with it.”

Star nodded. “Shit, in Los Angeles it’s already dangerous to breathe because of the pollution, for Christ’s sake! I can’t believe people really want to live that way.”

“But nothing happens.”

“Well, we figured all along we’d need to give a demonstration before they’d listen.”

“Yeah.” Priest hesitated, then blurted: “I guess I’m just scared it won’t work.”

“The seismic vibrator?”

He hesitated again. He would not have been this frank with anyone but Star, and he was already half regretting his confession of doubt. But he had begun, so he might as well finish. “The whole thing,” he said. “I’m

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