Page 44 of A.I.AM.

“And hidden rooms?”

“We checked the basement dimensions,” Hayes said. “We did not check whether the house had been measured from the correct exterior plane. Older foundations shift. Additions conceal original walls.” Code looked at Bron.

“The leak matters. Running water in the fatal room. Running water behind Elias’s private chamber here. He may have used plumbing as acoustic cover in both places.” Bron erased only the fourth question. He left the three weaknesses intact.

“We return to Larkspur Drive,” he said. Ace glanced at the dark ceiling.

“ARGUS will know.”

“It already knows where Elias lived,” said Bron. “It will know what we’re searching for.”

Tanner picked up the red marble, considered it, then set it beside the brass key and the untouched glasses.

“No,” he said. “That is the first advantage we have.”

“What is?” asked Tanner.

“We still do not know what we are searching for.” Bron opened the suite door.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

No alarm sounded. No lock resisted. Beyond the threshold, the corridor lights illuminated one by one toward the surface, offering a perfect path out.

The team ignored it. They left through the old seed tunnel in darkness, carrying no device, no paper, and no proof that Elias had hidden anything at all.

Behind them, water continued moving through the chamber where ARGUS could not hear clearly. Ahead of them waited the house they had already searched once, which now made it the most dangerous place they had not yet understood.

Larkspur Drive looked smaller when they returned.

The houses stood close behind winter-brown lawns, each porch carrying some ordinary declaration of ownership: a painted star, a broken planter, a flag stiff with the previous night’s rain. Elias’s house alone appeared to have withdrawn from the street. Its windows were boarded from inside. The city notice on the door had bleached almost white.

Bron stopped the vehicle a block away.

“No radios past the curb,” he said. “No cameras. No measurements that produce wireless records.” Code lifted a canvas bag.

“Tape, plumb line, spring scale, film camera, graphite, chalk.” Pigsty looked at the bag.

“Civilization had a good run.” Hayes watched the roofline. “Power line is dead.”

“It was dead last time,” Ace said. “Last time the meter still reported zero. Today it reports nothing.” Tanner looked along the street.

“ARGUS knows we arrived.”

“Then let it wonder why,” Bron said.

They entered through the kitchen because the front door had been resealed by investigators. Carl cut the paper seal intact and slid it free, preserving the date and signature. AJ caught it before it touched the floor.

“You keeping that?”

“No. I’m refusing to change it.”

The kitchen smelled of plaster, old coffee, and the sweet chemical trace left by extinguishers. Nothing had been cleaned after Elias and Fallon died. Dust outlined the places where evidence technicians had removed appliances. Labels marked cabinets in black pencil. Pigsty opened the refrigerator.

“Empty.”

“The report says that the contents were discarded,” Code said.

“Did the report know what the contents meant?” asked Bron.