The project had been dead for twenty-two years. So why did its final file contain a photograph of her?
CHAPTER 3
They ran.
Nora followed Ethan through the basement while alarms began flashing red.
The facility had supposedly been without power for more than two decades.
Yet somewhere beneath their feet, machines were waking up.
Doors unlocked.
Old monitors flickered.
A printer suddenly began producing pages.
Nora stopped.
“Ethan.”
He turned.
The printer was spitting out a single sheet.
At the top was a name.
DANIEL BENNETT.
Below it was a signature.
Nora recognized it immediately.
Her father had signed countless birthday cards with that exact handwriting.
She grabbed the page.
The date was September 2004.
Two months before Bellwether officially shut down.
The document contained only one sentence:
PROJECT TERMINATION RECOMMENDED. SUBJECTIVE PREDICTION HAS BECOME ACTIVE INTERVENTION.
Nora stared.
“What does that mean?”
Ethan took the page.
“It means Bellwether stopped predicting what people would do.”
He looked at her.
“It started influencing what they did.”
Nora felt sick.
“How?”
“Information.”
He pointed at the report.
“Suppose Bellwether predicted a protest would happen in Pittsburgh.”
“So?”
“Instead of waiting, someone could create a rumor that caused the protest.”
Nora’s eyes widened.
“Then the prediction becomes true.”
“Exactly.”
A system that could manufacture the future by convincing people it had already predicted it.
Ethan continued.
“That’s why your father wanted out.”
Nora looked at the document again.
“What happened to him?”
Ethan’s jaw tightened.
“He disappeared six months later.”
“You said he tried to shut Bellwether down.”
“He did.”
“Did he succeed?”
Ethan didn’t answer.
That frightened her more than anything else.
They reached the main corridor.
The emergency lights suddenly died.
In the darkness, Ethan grabbed Nora’s wrist.
“Don’t move.”
A door slammed somewhere ahead.
Someone was inside.
Then a voice echoed through the hallway.
“Nora Bennett.”
She froze.
The voice was male.
Calm.
Almost gentle.
“You shouldn’t have come here.”
Ethan pulled his weapon.
Nora stared at him.
“You have a gun?”
“I told you I’ve been investigating this for eight years.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“No.”
A shadow moved at the end of the corridor.
Then gunfire erupted.
Ethan pulled Nora behind a concrete pillar.
Bullets struck the wall.
They ran.
They didn’t stop until they reached the outside.
Rain poured across the parking lot.
Nora turned toward the building.
“Who was that?”
Ethan stared at the dark windows.
“I don’t know.”
Then he looked at the photograph in her hand.
“Actually, I think I do.”
Nora waited.
Ethan pointed to the man standing beside her father.
“The man in your father’s photograph.”
Nora looked again.
She recognized him.
Not because she had seen him before.
Because she had seen his face recently.
On television.
He was now one of the most powerful senators in Washington.
Richard Hale.
