Intruder calls didn't always come at night. It only seemed that way.

Sheldon checked his watch as he turned the corner. It was a quarter to two. He recalled one daytime intruder call, last summer, shortly after they'd first started. But that call had mingled in memory with all the others until it looked just like this one: the lights, the dark sky, the deep black shadows. Something about intruders liked the night. They must live in a quarter-to-two world.

He parked behind the unmarked with the flasher on top. A handful of neighbors watching from across the street whispered among themselves as he got out.

Fogel walked up, tweed hat pushed back on his head, detective's shield hanging from his belt. "Hey Shelly … Didn't think you was on duty."

"Ah, couldn't sleep." Sheldon dropped his eyes. It wasn't a lie. Not really; he hadn't been sleeping much at all since the night he'd woken up feeling the regard of eyes he could not meet, the sense of pressure like a harsh, cold wind. "I was out drivin'. Decided to take the call … y'know."

Fogel's partner, a rookie named Dornan, stood next to the unmarked. The thin man beside him was shaking, even though it wasn't that cold and he was wearing a sweater.

"That the … uhh?" Sheldon still wasn't certain what to call them. They weren't perps, not in any real sense. Not witnesses either. He couldn't quite bring himself to call them vics.

"That's him." Fogel nodded. "I called for some blues to pick him up like a quarter-hour ago, but …"

"Uh-huh." Nobody liked taking in an intruder … whatever. Handling them could be an ordeal, apart from the fact that they weren't arrests and added nothing to your jacket. "I passed a black-and-white comin' over. Downtown. Roustin' hookers."

Fogel shook his head. "And we get stuck with this."

Sheldon reached into the car window for his radio mike. He identified himself to the dispatcher. "…car 759. Tell 'em forget the whores and get their butts over here. Tell 'em Sheldon said so. Right. Thanks." His name had mana with that pair. One of them had gotten loud with him, thinking he was a rubbernecker or a john. Sheldon had heard them talking over the police band, going on about how they couldn't find "her," they'd missed "her," had anybody seen "her." It was so close to his own thoughts that he'd had to check it out. When the cop stuck his face in the window, Sheldon showed him his shield and braced his worthless blue ass good.

The girls were nothing out of the ordinary. Hookers, that was all.

As he was straightening up, somebody emerged from the house and clattered down the porch steps. Somewhat to his surprise, he recognized Marie Spagnoli, a police shrink. He waved a hand in greeting but she just kept on going.

He raised an eyebrow. Fogel shrugged. "Guess she couldn't sleep either."

Sheldon wondered what she'd been doing inside. "Anybody check the place out?"

"Mike looked it over." Fogel nodded at the rookie. "Found somethin' weird. Ask him."

Sheldon headed for the rookie, who was slumped against the car watching Marie and the … okay, the vic. At Sheldon's approach, Marie looked over her shoulder, a single hurried glance, as if she didn't know him. She was talking to the vic, getting a few answers in the form of curt monosyllables and jerky, abrupt gestures. Touching his arm, she led him a few steps off. The vic, mid-twenties, dark hair, just under six foot, grabbed his arm and rubbed it as if he'd been struck. Sheldon's stomach twisted, and there was the taste of bile at the back of his throat.

He forced himself to nod at Dornan, who had shot to his feet on seeing who it was.

"Hey, Lieutenant."

"Hey. You checked the premises."

"Yeah. Nothing …" Dornan made a face. "You know."

"Atrocious. Nothin' atrocious. No body parts, no kids, nothin' like that."

Dornan laughed nervously. "No sir, nothing like that. But the bedroom … There's some kind of … Well, let me show you."

"Okay. You check the basement?"

Dornan's eyes widened. "No sir. It didn't occur to—"

"Don't worry about it. You can do that now." The house was a two-fam, not really typical of the neighborhood, which ran more to suburban-type ranches like the ones across the street. The vic lived on the first floor. Early intrusions had been pretty scattershot as to type of domicile–apartment buildings, high-rises, condos, what have you. Now they were confined to places like this. They had learned about isolation.

Marie glanced over at him as he started for the house. He was surprised at how haggard she looked, but then it was the wee hours.

"He tell you anything?" His voice was probably a bit louder than necessary.

Marie looked away. "A lot of things that could not have happened."

"Like what?"

"Nothing we haven't heard before."

"Marie …" he lowered his voice. "Help me out here, huh?"

"She didn't sleep. She did things with her body, her eyes. The house changed. Things unfolded out of the air … That help?"

He nodded. She turned back to the vic, who was staring into the night with a look of pure agony on his face. Sheldon moved to catch up with Dornan.

"… neighbor phoned it in," Dornan told him as they started up the stairs. "Coming home, caught the intruder outside for some reason. Just standing there, middle of the street. Pulled up to see who it was, and …"

"The eyes got him." Sheldon stepped through the door. The place smelled okay. A lot of times they didn't. Not that much of a mess either.

"Yeah. He mentioned eyes."

"It's always the eyes. The eyes are supposed to be bad." A briefcase leaned against the living-room table, a wad of papers sticking from the open flap. The headings looked official, like government documents. A pile of unopened mail lay atop the table, an overflow of envelopes covering the floor beneath. Sheldon poked at the pile. It looked to be two or three month's worth. Another envelope slid off.

"You … ever see one, Lieutenant?"

Sheldon shook his head. He'd never seen an intruder and didn't know a cop who had. They were always gone by the time law enforcement arrived. Popped just like soap bubbles, if the vics, and various other witnesses, could be trusted. The scientists talked about quark formations, three-dimensional projections out of higher space, nothing that meant anything to him.

"I kinda thought … Y'know, coming in …?"

"It might not of gone?" Sheldon rubbed the back of his neck. "It's occurred to me, too."

Dornan indicated a hallway leading from the room. "First door on the left. Master bedroom, far as I could see."

Sheldon headed for the door. "You go in?"

"Poked my head in the door. That's all."

"Uh-huh. The basement?"

"Stairway in the kitchen."

"Okay. Holler you find anything. Body parts, the like."

"Oh, I'll holler, all right."

Sheldon smiled to himself. Dornan was a good kid. Nice to see they were getting young guys like that on the force. Most of them seemed to take their behavioral cues from Jackie Chan movies these days.

He paused at the door. This was the first one since that night. Since he'd caught their attention, as he thought of it. He'd suddenly come awake, blinking up at the darkness. At first he'd thought it was that weightless feeling that sometimes hits you in the middle of the night. But it wasn't. It wasn't that at all. He rolled out of bed, fumbled for his service piece, and searched the apartment in the still dark, hoping to find something that would explain the sense of being watched, like a coarse buzzing below the level of hearing. At last he left the apartment, still in his shorts, going down the stairs and outside to stand in the cold, swiveling his head to take in a world that seemed very distant.

It still did. He waited a moment, but there was no return of the pressure that had gripped him at random moments during the past two weeks. He let out a breath he'd scarcely been conscious of holding and stepped inside.

The bedroom was where you found the weird stuff. He ran his gaze over the four walls. It was the same on each of them, and the ceiling as well. A network, a kind of aimless spiderweb pattern, meandering across every visible surface. At first glance it looked like an unusual wallpaper design. But only at first—it didn't take a close inspection to arrive at the uneasy conclusion that it was something else, something that didn't belong there.

He was two steps into the room when he realized that it ran across the floor as well. Dropping to one knee, he studied the closest vein. It wasn't much like anything he'd ever seen before. His eyes told him it was some kind of metal, but to the touch … His fingers felt only the nap of the fabric.

He got up, went the nearest stretch of wall and rubbed one prominent streak. He thought he felt something but he couldn't be sure. He tried picking at it with a thumbnail. The wallpaper tore instead. Gripping the edge, he pulled a long swath free. The vein remained as it was, as if embedded in the wall. He scratched at it again, gritting his teeth. Taking a penknife from his pocket, he flipped open the blade and jammed it into the wall, working it deep into the plaster. He gripped it with both hands to force it down.

He paused. The bright pattern glittered at him. From ceiling, from walls. He glared at it, angry frustration beating within him, one hot wave after another. With a sound that was not quite a laugh he pulled out the knife, closed it, and slipped it back into his pocket. He brushed at the scar on the wallpaper, then turned and walked quickly to the door.

He almost collided with Marie as he emerged. She started and stepped back, hand to her throat. He eyed her a moment. Nice-looking woman, Marie. Those Italian features that seem almost masculine at first but then makes them look even sweeter. Still on the good side of forty, though seeing her now you'd take her for fifteen years older. They'd gone out a couple times after his marriage tubed. Nothing serious.

"Sorry, Marie." The bathroom was across the hall. He stepped inside and turned on the water in the sink. Splashed a double handful on his face. There were towels, but he didn't want to use them. Instead he wiped his face with his handkerchief.

Marie was staring into the bedroom.

"You go in there yet?"

She shook her head.

"Do yourself a favor."

"What is it?" Her voice was a whisper.

"Damned if I know. Some kinda emotional amplifier or mirror or … something. Half a minute was enough for me. I can just imagine what it was like when things got intense."

Eyes shut tight, Marie began swaying. He took a step toward her. "You okay, babe?'

She leaned against the doorjamb, head bent, eyes still closed. "Yeah."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Just tired."

He heard footsteps in the hallway. Dornan came into sight.

"Anything?"

"I didn't holler."

Sheldon allowed himself a smile. "You contact the airport?" The NASA lab out there was on call for intruder episodes.

"Yeah. They said tomorrow."

"Well, call 'em back. Tell 'em we got something they'll like. Tell 'em we got technology."

"Yeah? What's it do?"

"Go in there. Ten seconds."

Marie hadn't moved an inch. She opened her eyes as slits. "They're experimenting."

"Huh?"

"They're experimenting, Shel. That's what they're doing. Finding out about us. What makes us tick. Going deep, deeper than we've ever gone. Digging stuff up we never knew was there."

"Could be." He'd heard the theory before. It held conviction: it explained the body parts, the apparent sadism, the way the guy in that nameless Chinese town had mutilated himself, what they'd found in Spokane, which had turned even Sheldon's hard old cop stomach. He'd developed a sick apprehension that they'd get something similar here, a feeling repeated every time he answered a call. But that kind of thing had stopped. They'd found out what they wanted to know. They didn't need to do that anymore. "Yeah, well—it's not Spokane or Messina—"

"No, Shel. It's worse."

Out in the hall, Dornan whistled. He came into sight rolling his eyes.

"You like that, eh?"

The kid raised his cell-phone. "NASA's gonna like it even better."

"You bet." Sheldon turned back to Marie. Her eyes were shut once again. He leaned close. "Marie, what is it?"

A shriek erupted from the front of the house. He pushed past her in time to see Dornan race out the front door. Sheldon started after him. Halfway there he became aware he was still wringing the handkerchief and stuck it in his pocket.

The vic had collapsed and was sobbing openly, his arms jerking spasmodically against his chest. Fogel stood above him, looking embarrassed. The crowd across the street, grown larger in the past few minutes, stared in silence.

Dornan had come to a halt. "This happen a lot?"

"Most of the time. Listen to him." The vic was mumbling to himself between sobs, disjointed phrases in which only the words "lone" and "gone" were comprehensible. "It just hit him. She … it … ain't comin' back."

"God almighty," Dornan whispered.

"Guess they work 'em hard."

Fogel raised both hands. "C'mon, fella, pull yourself together …"

Sheldon swung to face Dornan. "They call you Mike …? Mike, I want you to take this guy to county ER. Just tell 'em it's an intruder deal, they'll know what to do. Marie can handle the paper—"

As he turned, his voice died in his throat. Marie stood at the top of the steps, eyes fixed on the weeping man. She had an expression on her face he had never before seen, not on any face he had ever seen, in all the incidents and crimes and tragedies he'd been called on to clean up.

He walked to the steps. "Marie …"

"I can't do this … I can't do this anymore."

"Marie, what is it?"

She refused to meet his eyes. Instead she raised her head and squinted, exactly as if she'd caught sight of something in the far distance, something that demanded her full attention. So compelling was it that he looked over his shoulder himself, to see only Fogel, the kid, the crying vic.

He slowly turned back to her. "Look—let's go down to the station. We'll talk—"

"No."

Her face had sagged. She was still staring, eyes lost in night.

"Marie—"

"I can't go there. I can't talk."

He took a step toward her. "I said no," she cried, and then she was past him, running toward her car, her hands raised as if to brush aside any obstacles. Fogel frowned as he turned his head to follow her. The bathrobe-clad group across the street shuffled uneasily when she raced past.

Dornan cleared his throat. "Let me take the guy in. He won't be any trouble."

Sheldon simply nodded. He was watching the taillights of Marie's car flare as it pulled away. There were male intruders. They weren't reported that often. People wondered why. He thought he knew why.

Fogel returned from helping the vic to the car. "Mo, who's on duty?"

"This hour? That'd be Morris, Fuentes …"

Fuentes: smart, sensible, kept his mouth shut. "Call Charley tell him to stake out Marie's place. Coop out on the ridge. Address is in the station DB. She lives alone."

Fogel grimaced. "What you thinkin', Shel?"

"I don't know what I'm thinkin', Mo." He stood in silence a moment. "Tell him she lives alone."

He raised his head to the screech of tires. A black and white was turning the corner. "Look at this, willya? Now they decide to show up."

Fogel went to meet the cruiser. Sheldon remained leaning against his car. He didn't want to talk to them and he doubted they'd welcome his appearance either.

The onlookers across the street stood chattering another minute or two before heading for home. Some of them laughed as they called out their good nights. They were getting used to this kind of thing. It was becoming a regular event, something to talk about, material for jokes. Sheldon didn't like that.

A quarter of an hour passed before a white van bearing fed plates pulled up. The back opened to disgorge several kids in their mid-twenties dressed in jeans, flannel shirts, and anoraks, obviously the NASA team. Somebody, at least, moved faster than the blues. An older, bearded man emerged from the driver's seat and regarded Sheldon. "You the officer in charge?"

Sheldon pointed at Fogel. The two of them conferred a moment then disappeared inside, the young techs in tow.

He listened to the uniforms bitch about being kept after their shifts. There was no real reason for him to hang around. He just preferred being here rather than at home. Out here he felt like a cop. He was in control, he had some say about what happened. But at home … He thought of what Dornan had said about walking into this place. The great fear. The fear that a set of unknown eyes would be waiting.

He was still thinking about it when he got the report from Fuentes.

He stood with his hands on the cold metal. They were taking the next step. They'd learned enough about humans in general. Now they were moving on to the police, government, the authorities in general. For what? Experimenting, Marie had said. What did they want to know now?

The cops were talking about "her" again. How they'd missed "her" tonight. How one could have sworn he'd seen "her."

"Yeah, she was there. When we was pulling up. On the corner, by the watch shop …"

"Bull-fucking-shit, man. That wasn't her. You're just sayin' …"

Sheldon swung away from the car. "You saw who? Her? Who's 'her'?"

The cops stared at him in silence. Only half-aware of it, he'd stormed over to them and now stood only an arm's length distant. The blond one looked at his partner before speaking.

"A hooker, Lieutenant. That's all. Downtown."

Sheldon shifted his eyes between the two of them.

"She dresses like an exec, see. Different. Classy-like. You'd never know."

"You guys seem to be pretty good at memorizing your hookers."

He turned away. One of the NASA people had stepped out onto the porch and was talking over a cell phone. He seemed excited, in high spirits. As if they'd found the key. As if they'd come across the crucial piece of the puzzle, the one that would enable them to figure it all out. Maybe they had. Maybe some dweeb in a dirty t-shirt would save them after all.

He left without saying anything to Fogel. He had too much on his mind. He had to get things rolling on Marie. File a report, start the paperwork. They'd need cameras, sound equipment, infrared—all passive, nothing penetrating, nothing an intruder might be able to detect.

Six so far this year, in this town alone. Multiply that by all the other incidents in all the other towns across the broad Earth—it was enough to chill you to the bone.

He was stopped at a light three blocks from the station when a figure caught his eye. She stood in a doorway across the street, half obscured by shadow. He squinted, trying to make her out more clearly, took in a sharp breath as he realized that she was gazing back at him. As he watched, she sank deeper into the doorway, as if trying to retreat from his line of sight.

At that same moment their attention returned, undeniable and overwhelming. Converging on him from all directions, a pressure as unbearable as it was impossible to escape, the gaze of a thousand mad gods. The car trembled as his foot shifted on the accelerator. He fixed his eyes on the figure across the street, taking in her shape, her stance.

They had made a mistake, letting him know. He was ready for them. He wasn't going down like that kid—like Marie. He was ready. He give 'em a nice batch of experimental results …

His tires squealed as he roared across the street. She stepped out of the doorway but stumbled back when the car jumped the curb directly in front of her. He kicked the door open and threw himself at her, one hand pinning her against the metal grate at her back. She tried to knee him but he'd heard about that. She scratched at his face; he swept her arm aside. He was shouting, his voice cracking at the high notes. He banged her against the grate and at last she was quiet.

She cringed, her hair covering her face. "Your eyes," he demanded. "Show me your eyes, dammit."

Her head rose. She stared at him, her lips quivering. He released her and stepped back. It wasn't her. Just a woman, wearing a nice suit, a high-necked blouse. Like a CEO. Like an exec.

He showed her his shield. "Get off the street. Whatsa matter with you?"

She bent for her purse and ran off without a word with the clumsy stride of a woman wearing high heels. He thought of calling out something in the way of an apology but couldn't come up with the words and then she was gone.

He went to the car and stood by the open door. She was coming. He knew that clearly. He even knew what she would look like. When he saw her at last, there would be no doubt. No more than there had been for Marie, for the kid sleeping under sedation in county.

She'd try to break him too. She would dig down deep, deeper than he could imagine. She would give him what he wanted, and had never known that he'd wanted.

She would never sleep. She would do things that were not possible. Her eyes would be terrible.

He thought he heard a sound beyond the corner. Leaving the car, he walked in that direction. The better part of a minute passed before he could force himself to take the last step. The street was empty.

He returned to the car and pulled back out into the street. It was nearly dawn when he got to the station.