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What was that? Carmen mouthed at Reid.

He shrugged and pointed at himself and then the corner, indicating he was going to take a look. Carmen nodded. Reid stood up and slid with his back against the wall. When he reached the corner, he slowly took a peek down the longer corridor. There was no movement or further noises, only silence. He remained in place for two minutes and then returned to Carmen.

“Nothing,” he whispered.

“Copy that.” Carmen stood up from her crouched position. “This old steam boat probably creaks a lot.” She turned on her light again and directed the beam toward the keypad. “Do you think we can crack this thing?”

“It’s possible. Brett taught me a few tricks,” said Reid. “If not, we can always do it the old-fashioned way.”

“Which is?”

“Disconnect the keypad and kick the door in.”

Carmen looked at the door. It was not reinforced steel, but it was made of older heavy wood, the kind that would be hard to break.

“Let’s see what you can do with the keypad first. I doubt we can go through that door without alerting the folks upstairs.”

Reid nodded and pulled out a knife that contained a number of multi-purpose tools. He selected a screwdriver, placed it under the housing of the keypad, and pried off the cover.

“What was that?” Carmen asked, raising her gun to her shoulder.

“What was what?”

“That noise.”

Reid shrugged. “Honestly, I think you’re hearing things.”

The two remained still for a few more seconds before the Italian finally lowered her gun. “Sorry, I could’ve sworn I heard another noise. Almost like steps.”

“It probably was steps. But they’re coming from upstairs.” Reid turned his attention back to the uncovered keypad. There was a tangle of wires and circuits underneath the buttons.

“What are you trying to do exactly?” Carmen asked, staring at the device.

“Brett gave me a tip one time. On some of the cheaper models there are two wires—”

“That will not work,” said someone standing directly behind them.

Both operatives swung around at the sound of the voice. Standing a few feet away, cloaked in the darkness of the hall, was a shadowy figure that appeared to be pointing something at them.

Without hesitation Carmen raised her weapon, put the laser pointer on the person’s chest, and squeezed the trigger.

CHAPTER THIRTY

After Carmen fired her suppressed Beretta, she expected to hear the sound of the bullet ripping through bone and flesh. Instead, there was the sharp clang of metal. Assuming she must have hit some kind of body armor, she lifted the laser pointer to the figure’s head and pulled the trigger again, with the same result.

“Your shots will have little or no effect on me,” the voice said. “I am protected with five millimeters of titanium. I would not recommend firing any more shots as you are likely to alert the men upstairs.”

What’s happening? Carmen was confused but didn’t lower her weapon. She could tell the voice was female, yet it didn’t sound like any voice she had ever heard. It was almost mechanical. Keeping the laser sight pointed at the woman’s head, Carmen shouted, “Lift your hands up. Now!”

“I will be happy to raise my hands, but you need not worry. I am a friend.”

Carmen could see the woman’s hands rise into the air, so she pulled out her flashlight with her left hand and pointed it at her. What she saw made her mouth open slightly. Standing in front of her was an Asian woman, perhaps in her thirties. But there was something about her that didn’t seem right. Her skin was too smooth, and her eyes glowed a soft aqua blue.

Carmen stood up, keeping the flashlight and the pistol aimed at the women. “Reid, put some cuffs on—”

“I know you are having trouble believing me,” said the woman, “but trust me when I say those will be of little use. I can apply enough pressure to snap them instantly.”

Carmen signaled Reid to hold off. If the woman couldn’t be brought down with a bullet, it might be dangerous to approach her.

“Who are you?” Carmen asked. “What are you?”

The Italian thought she saw the hint of a smile on the woman’s face. “My name is Keiko. I am a third generation humanoid in the service of Renaissance.”

It all made sense. Transhumanists like Mironov were obsessed with humanoid robotics. It was the reason he had lured Ian Higgs away from NASA. But what sort of robot was it? It — she — was spectacular in every way — the facial expressions, the ability to think, and even the ability to reason with others.

But why would she say she was a friend? It didn’t make sense. “First you said you were our friend, and now you tell me that you work for Renaissance. Give us one good reason why we should trust you.”

“If I wanted to kill you or alert the others, I could have already done so. I have already violated company protocol by not doing that, and if I am discovered, I will probably be destroyed or reprogrammed.”

Despite the craziness of the situation, everything the humanoid said seemed to make sense. If she could withstand a barrage of bullets, it was likely she could do almost anything she wanted, including the delivery of lethal force.

“So why haven’t you tried to kill us?”

“Because I assume that you are here to find the American man,” said Keiko, letting that sink in for a moment. “Am I correct? I have been responsible for taking care of him since he was captured in Geneva.”

Carmen felt a surge of hope. “So he is still alive then?”

“I can assure you he is still alive. Would you like to see?”

Carmen hesitated. It could be a trap. Keeping her pistol trained on Keiko’s head, she nodded toward the exposed keypad. “Go ahead, let’s see if you’ve been telling us the truth.”

“He is not in that room. He is down here,” said Keiko, turning stiffly and moving toward the opposite end of the hall.

Carmen and Reid followed her till they reached another door. Clicking sounds came out of the humanoid’s head, and twin beams of light projected from her eyes, illuminating the buttons in front of her. Carmen was speechless. The technology was decades ahead of its time.

Keiko turned toward Carmen and Reid. “They have trusted me with all of the codes for the ship,” she said, reaching up and punching out a sequence of digits. When she was finished, there was a beep, and the red light turned green. Keiko reached down and turned the knob.

“Wait, not so fast,” said Carmen. “I’ll handle that.”

“As you wish.” Keiko smiled and backed away.

Carmen told Reid to keep his pistol trained on Keiko. She reached down, opened the door, and fumbled around on the inside wall for a switch. When she found it, she turned the lights on then let out a groan of disgust. The room was empty.

“Wow, thanks for leading us right to him,” Carmen declared, not trying to hide her sarcasm. “Don’t know what we would’ve done without you.”

“I do not know why he is not there. For the last six hours I have been in my room recharging my batteries. I guess they must have taken him out while I was shut down.”

Even though she was trained to be cautious, even cynical, Carmen still had the distinct feeling that the humanoid was telling the truth. “You still haven’t told us why you’re helping us.”

Keiko looked first at Carmen and then at Reid. “It is a long story that involves the way I was programmed by the man who created me. I would be happy to give you the details, but my guess is that you do not have that kind of time.”

Reid looked at Carmen. “She’s right. The ‘why’ can wait until later.”

“Agreed.” Carmen turned back toward Keiko. “Do you think he might have been taken to another room?”