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Okuma was the name of a Japanese town in the Futaba District. It was part of a larger district known throughout the world for all the wrong reasons. The second boy had sent the message from this location.

Fukushima.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Nadia said.

“Fukushima,” Bobby said. “The only place other than Chornobyl to experience a level seven disaster on the International Nuclear Event Scale.”

“You know anyone in Fukushima?”

“No.”

“Tokyo?”

“No.”

“What about Facebook friends? Or your other social media followers?”

“Nope. Hockey’s not a big deal in Japan.”

“Have you answered the message?”

“Not yet.”

Part of Bobby wished he’d been honest with her. But the other part shut him down. He could always confess later.

“What should we do?” she said.

Bobby thought about her question for a moment. “Play the fox,” he said.

Bobby knew his father, a notorious con artist, had given her the same advice when she’d met him in Chornobyl on his deathbed. With foxes, we must play the fox.

Nadia smiled. Not a blatant full-tooth smile like the hockey moms gave everyone when they came into the rink to pick up their kids. Just a subtle one to let him know she got it. She was cool that way, too. She knew how to hide her emotions, not make a big deal of things.

They debated what to write. Nadia advised him to be conservative and say as little as possible. Let the sender do the talking. Eventually he would reveal himself. But Bobby was his father’s son. He had started to realize that during his stint in jail. The sender would be expecting a tame approach. The optimal course of action was to provoke him with the unexpected.

Bobby suggested they answer with a question. What are the stakes?

The answer was the fate of the free world. It was the line that had started it all more than a year ago, when a man whispered it in Nadia’s ear before collapsing on a New York City street. If the full formula existed, it could affect the fate of the free world. A nuclear power with a cure for radiation would have an advantage over its enemies. If the second locket contained the rest of the formula, the boy who possessed it would understand the message.

Bobby sent his reply. Nadia went back to bed. Bobby set his computer to ping with the arrival of a new e-mail. He tried to sleep but couldn’t.

The computer pinged three times over the course of three hours. The first two e-mails were spam. The third wasn’t.

Bobby read the message, saw the light on under Nadia’s door and called her. She hurried to his room in a robe and pajamas. She peered over his shoulder and read the response.

The fate of the free world depends on us.

A minute later, a second e-mail arrived with instructions.

Sunday. Tokyo. The mural at Shibuya train station. Noon. Meet in front. Just you and Nadia. My friend will find you.

Genesis II.

Bobby found information about a mural at Shibuya station on the Internet. It was called the Myth of Tomorrow. It was an abstract picture consisting of fourteen panels.

It depicted a human figure being hit by a nuclear bomb.

CHAPTER 2

Nadia told Bobby to get some sleep. He’d just been released from jail that morning. She’d informed his teachers at Fordham Prep that he would return to school next week. She wanted him to rest and recuperate first. They’d agreed it was a prudent idea, noting it was mid-April, and there was plenty of time for him to catch up before June.

She lay awake in bed until 5:00 a.m. Questions swirled in her head. She needed a shower, a cup of coffee, and a discussion with Johnny Tanner. Johnny was her attorney and best friend. He knew the truth about Bobby’s true identity, that he was Nadia’s cousin from Ukraine and his real name was Adam Tesla. Johnny had helped them escape the clutches of Russian mobsters when Bobby had first arrived, and defended him successfully against the recent murder charge.

Nadia left a message at 6:00 a.m. Johnny returned her call half an hour later.

“What’s this about life and death?” he said. His voice sounded distant, as though he was on a car speaker.

“Are we alone? Is there anyone else in the car with you?”

“We’re alone. And you’re officially scaring me.”

Nadia described the e-mail, its source, and its contents. Johnny usually played it cool, but he couldn’t conceal the note of excitement in his voice.

“Do you believe it’s genuine?” he said. “That there really is a second locket?”

“There are three possibilities. First, it’s a hoax, there is no second locket, and the goal is to steal Bobby’s locket.”

“Toward what end? If there’s no second locket, no completion of the formula, who would care about it?”

“Someone who knows the rest of the formula, thinks he knows how to get it, or believes the entire formula is on Bobby’s locket. Second possibility, it’s real but the sender’s intentions are not noble.”

“Meaning the goal is to steal Bobby’s locket and have them both.”

“Correct. Third possibility is the preferred outcome. There is a second locket and it’s in the possession of a good boy.”

“You’re sure it’s a boy and not an adult?”

“It’s a small hand.”

“Could be a woman,” Johnny said. “Or a small man.”

“Fair point. Duly noted.”

“What do you make of the response to Bobby’s e-mail?”

“This started a year ago when a stranger who said he knew my father whispered ‘Fate of the free world’ in my ear, suggesting it depended on me. Whoever sent the e-mail knows the potential importance of the formula in question. Odds are high he knows it’s a countermeasure to radiation.”

“Any idea why this is coming from Japan?”

“No. Bobby says he doesn’t know any Japanese people. I believe him.”

“It’s eerie. Because of the nuclear disaster in Fukushima. I mean, it makes you wonder if there’s a Japanese scientist with the other half of the formula, or something like that.”

“I agree,” Nadia said. “It’s remarkable to get these e-mails from the only other place to experience a level seven nuclear disaster. But we have to stick to the facts and not let our imaginations run away from us. The invitation made reference to a friend. So we know there are at least two people involved. Possibly a boy and an adult. Possibly two adults.”

‘What about the timing of all this? Right when Bobby gets out of jail? Is that a bit of a coincidence?”

“Three e-mails were sent over two weeks. The last one five days ago, when things didn’t look good for Bobby at all. Anyone who knew the particulars of the case at that point would have thought there was little chance Bobby would be released soon.”

“Meaning whoever sent the e-mail didn’t know what was happening in Bobby’s life. Didn’t know he was in jail.”

“Agreed. If you have a second locket, and you know the kid that has the first one is in jail on murder charges, you don’t send a message that assumes he’s going to be there to read it. You worry about how to get him a message in jail.”

“And the sender knows you exist. He used your name. If he thought Bobby was in jail, he would have found some way to get you the message instead of him.”

“Especially given the stakes.”

“The alleged stakes.”

Nadia chuckled. “Right. The alleged stakes. Thank you, counselor.”