"If it's not bacterial DNA," Andrea asked, "then what?"

"I don't know. It's patented and classified by Viatus. It's only listed in the file as Dt222. The Dt stands for 'drought tolerant.' But that's not what I wanted to show you." Henry pointed at the screen. "This assay was sent to me by Jason Gorman two months ago."

"Two months ago?"

"I know. The boy was so excited to be involved in that African field study. He wasn't supposed to disseminate this information. It was a violation of his confidentiality agreement. I warned him to be more discreet and to keep quiet about it. I can only imagine his desperation on that last morning. Yet he still had the foresight to preserve whatever data he could."

Andrea nodded. "What did he send out that last morning?"

Henry tapped at the keyboard, bringing forth the latest data. "Let me show you. They had just harvested the first generation of corn from the seeds planted. He sent the complete analysis of that harvest, including an entire DNA assay. Here are the results."

On the screen appeared a second batch of chromosomes. Again a majority of them were color coded in black, denoting normal corn DNA. But instead of a single chromosome in white, a second chromosome above it was stippled in white and black.

"I don't understand," Andrea said.

"Look closer."

Henry zoomed in on the picture of the transformed chromosome. It now showed a fine mapping of the individual genes, displaying a striping of black and white.

Henry explained, "The foreign DNA is incorporating itself into another chromosome, invading its neighbor."

"It's spreading?"

He sat back and stared over at Andrea. He allowed some excitement to enter his voice. "I can't say for sure. But I've compiled the data three times. Maybe the first sample that Jason sent was from a different hybrid. They could be testing more than one version of the corn out there. But if they're not, it would suggest that the genetic modification is unstable. It's changed from one generation to the next. The sample's become more foreign and less corn."

"What does that mean?"

He shrugged. "I have no idea. But someone needs to know about this. I've already passed on an inquiry to the Crop Biogenics division at Viatus. I'm sure they'll want this data. I may even be able to worm a new grant out of the corporation."

Andrea shifted to her feet. "Then maybe I can actually get that raise you keep hinting at." A shadow of a smile played over her face, catching a bit of his excitement.

"We'll see."

Andrea checked her watch. "If you don't need me, I should be getting home. My dogs have been cooped up all day. They're probably crossing their hind legs and dancing to get out."

Henry walked her to the door. "Thanks again for coming in on your day off."

Andrea paused at the door. "Are you sure I can't get you something to eat before I go?"

"No, I'm going to finalize the assay and upload it to the server. It shouldn't take long."

She waved as she exited. The door whooshed closed behind her.

Henry returned to his computer station. It would take him less than an hour to formalize his report. While the file Jason had sent from Africa cast little light on the young man's death, it did illustrate a brave heart, something his father could be proud of.

"You did good, Jason," Henry mumbled as he made a final review of all the files.

Over the next fifteen minutes, he typed a few notes and observations. He wanted to impress Viatus. Their Crop Biogenics division contracted with laboratories around the world to perform their assays, though mostly in India and Eastern Europe at the moment, where costs were cheaper. But Princeton's genomics laboratory was one of the best in the world. If he could persuade the corporation to toss a little business their way...

A slow smile spread as he worked.

A knock on the door interrupted him again. His smile widened. If he knew Andrea, she had not taken him at his word. She must have gone to the cafeteria to fetch him a bite to eat.

"Be right there!" he called out. He crossed the lab and swiped his proximity keycard to unlock the door.

5:30 P.M.

Monk climbed into the cab outside the train station. His partner was already in the backseat, giving directions to the driver.

"Carl Icahn Lab on the Princeton campus. It's on Washington Road."

Monk settled into the seat next to him, straightened his suit jacket, and leaned back. He rested a briefcase on his lap. He stared down at the custom-made Tanner Krolle case and ran a hand over its English bridle leather. It had been an anniversary gift from Kat two months ago, when he'd formally returned to duty, as limited as it might be. He understood the unspoken message behind the expensive purchase. Kat was more than happy to have him pushing papers and conducting routine debriefings and interviews. Anything to keep him out of harm's way.