“Surely you didn’t think we could let you live, after what happened.”

Dr. Alexis Morgan’s lungs froze in shock at the words. She didn’t recognize the male voice on the phone, and the caller ID had been blocked. She’d answered out of habit, because she’d become a reliable source not just for academic types, but among the pop-culture journalists as well. Answering the phone was the price of becoming the Carl Sagan of the mind’s vast cosmos.

Alexis made herself take a breath, glancing around her office in the University of North Carolina neurosciences department, seeking reassurance in the fat books lining the shelves, the research notes pinned to the bulletin board, and the cold eye of the computer screen.

Yes, everything was normal, or at least typically abnormal.

“Who is this?” she finally managed to whisper.

The voice chuckled on the other end of the line. “You could call me a ‘watchdog,’ but that wouldn’t narrow it down much, would it?”

“If you’re threatening me, I’ll report you to the university police.”

“That would be wonderful, Dr. Morgan. Then they’d open up that whole barrel of monkeys and my work would be done.”

“I’m a neurobiologist, not a kindergarten teacher. I’m afraid you have the wrong-”

“You didn’t like playing second banana, did you? You want it all to yourself.”

She should have thumbed the phone dead. But people tended to let things slip that revealed secrets they’d hidden even from themselves. No matter how carefully the psychological vault was built, it always had a crack. Maybe she could bait him out.

“Is Burchfield behind this?”

“We gave you a chance to forget,” the voice said. “But, no, you just had to keep digging.”

Because the neurosciences department dealt with sensitive information as well as private health records, the technical security was high. But the best hacks were employed by the people with the most power, and right now, Senator Daniel Burchfield was in the running for the most powerful position on the planet.