IT WAS A TIME OF WAR. The ballast hold was stacked with kegs of powder for cannon balls. There were boxes upon boxes filled with rifles and swords, most probably on their way to troops fighting on the western front before the ship had been deterred. Finn, ever aware of Tara moving carefully behind him, came down the steps to the bowels of the ship and began making his way through the labyrinth of boxes and supplies. The banging on the door and the cries had become louder. They heard something that was almost like weeping, and in the sound of it there was both hope and fear. As they neared the aft end of the ballast hold, Finn could hear the sound of whimpering, and whispers within a closed section in the far rear.

"Stop calling! They'll...they'll kill us!"

"If not, we'll drown here, caged together," someone else said.

A heavy door sealed off a small compartment; Finn hesitated in front of the door, looking at Tara. She backed away and he lifted his leg and kicked the padlock that chained the door shut. The padlock shattered and he wrenched the door open.

The small hold space held five men. One, whiskered and grizzled, was clad only in a cotton shirt and breeches while the others wore shirts with the insignia of the United States Navy. One was barely a boy, perhaps thirteen or fourteen, and the other three men looked to be in their early twenties.

The older man stepped forward. "Captain Gazersin, United States Navy," he said. There was a tremor to his voice, as if he waited.

The young boy stepped forward next, "God A'mighty, have you come to eat us? If so, by God, do it! Do it!"

"We're not here to eat you," Tara said, stepping forward, and staring at the group incredulously. "How are you here?"

Another of the men spoke up. "Lord save us! It was horrible, miss. We came upon a man floating in a ship's dinghy, and we figured he was a survivor from some naval battle. We dragged up the poor soul, only to find there were two of the blokes. We pulled them on board and tended to their wounds, and the next thing you know, we're being picked off and ripped to shreds-I mean it! Throats ripped and blood flowing and the bastards drinking up the blood. Then our ship's mates were herding us down here, because someone was saying there was too many created, and those what tore up the first would starve if they didn't come on another ship, and..." He paused a minute, choking on his words.

The captain picked up the speech for him. "We started off as ten down here. They've been pulling us out, one after another, over the past few days."

"God help us!" the boy said. "You're really not going to eat us?"

"We're really not going to eat you," Finn assured the boy. He looked over at Tara. She was staring at the group with such empathy in her wide eyes.

"Saved by an angel!" the boy whispered, staring back at her.

"We've got to get topside," Tara said, looking at Finn. "Captain Tremblay wants to blow the ship out of the water."

"No," the real Captain Gazersin pleaded. "She's a good ship, a fine ship. We were carrying arms down to the fort at Key West when we thought we were saving men from the sea. God help me, but I brought this plague upon us all, trying to be merciful!"

"Let's get topside. The choice will go to the captain of the ship we're aboard, the USS Freedom," Finn said. The ship they had boarded did seem to be a sound, and her cargo was valuable. "Come on, men, hurry topside."

They urged the small group before them. When they reached topside, the young man paused, looking at one of the headless corpses on the deck.

"Dr. Leery!" he cried. "A good man, and taken from us just a night ago."

Tara caught the young man by the arm, leading him away. "Son, he is gone now, but truly in God's hands." Aboard the Freedom, tension filled the craggy features of Captain Tremblay, who greeted them with Dr. MacKay at his side.

"They were keeping hostages-prisoners to be feasted upon one by one!" Finn shouted over to him.

"Sir! She's a sound ship. Bound for Key West!" Captain Gazersin shouted.

Tremblay looked at Finn with surprise. "Hostages?"

"There was an intelligence at work," Finn said. He turned to look at Gazersin. "Sir, I'm going to need you to go through the corpses, and tell me which of the men were the ones saved, to assist in this mystery we've been chasing. Captain Tremblay! I'll need a few men over here to help with the disposal of the corpses. The ship does carry valuable cargo. Send me London, sir, and Griffin, if you will. And Billy Seabold. We'll scour her from top to bottom, and see to it that no monsters remain aboard."

The boy sniffed. "Dr. Leery was no monster!" he said.

"No, son, in his soul, never. But the disease makes hideous monsters of good men, and there is nothing to be done. He is gone now, and as Miss Fox said, he is in God's hands now," Finn told the boy.

Captain Gazersin said, "We can attend to the men. They were my men, so I would see to that they were buried at sea with honor."

"We need our men, sir. I have to know if those you rescued came from the fort," Finn told him. He turned to Tara. "You don't need to be here for this."

She shook her head. "But I do. What if the men who were rescued and turned the ship to monsters were citizens from Key West?" She offered him a weak, grim smile. "Finn, I don't need to be protected-not at this point."

He turned away from her. The requested men were coming aboard the ship, and they quickly began the grisly task of identifying all the bodies. He walked the ship with Charles Lafferty and Captain Gazersin while Tara went with the boy and Grissom and London. Toward the mainmast, Captain Gazersin stopped, pointing down at one of the corpses. "There! There is one fellow who we rescued from the dinghy!"

Finn stooped down by the man. He recognized the man himself.

It was Lieutenant Bowers, who had greeted him and brought him to Captain Calloway when he had first arrived in Key West.

"Sever the head and body, then into the sea," Finn said.

"Wait!" Captain Gazersin protested. "They were surely God-fearing men! Please, sir, you are our savior this day, but I'd have good Union men met by their God!"

"Aye, Captain. We need to find the second man who began the infection on the ship. Gather the...body parts here. You may say the prayers for those who died at sea, and we will finish with this sad business."

Tara discovered the second man from the dinghy who had come aboard to infect the ship; Finn heard her cry of dismay when she came upon him.

He bent down by her. "It's the young man who was in charge of my meals," she said. "He was terrified when the attack began. He thanked me for saving his life, and protected me from the other men by telling them I'd done so."

"I'm sorry," he said.

He rose, both sorry and touched to see the pain that was in her eyes. So much! And she still hurt for those around her. He wondered about himself, and feared that he had grown so hardened to war and death that he had little left of a soul himself.

"The infected men did come from Key West the night of the attacks there," he announced, shouting over to Tremblay.

"What of the others?" Tremblay demanded. There was suspicion in his voice; Tremblay would never be quite the same man again, Finn knew. He had learned that those who appeared to be friends or comrades could be monsters, and those who appeared to be the enemy could be friends. War, of any kind, was complicated, with God-fearing men killing God-fearing men. But another dimension had been added here.

"We will ascertain with the five of the living," Finn assured him, his voice rising ominously in the air.

Tara stood by the captain while the men gathered all those who had been killed-and decapitated-and then Captain Gazersin said the appropriate prayers. As the men's bodies were at last shrouded and their heads covered in old canvas sailcloth and cast over the side, Tara took Finn's arm and asked quietly, "What now?"

He looked back at the Freedom. Most of the men were topside, hovering near Captain Tremblay, watching the events.

He turned to Captain Gazersin. "Sir, were the five of you together at all times, after the real fighting on your ship began?"

"Aye, we were. We waited with the other living, as I told you, and they came for us, one by one."

"Can you take her into Key West with your crew of five?"

"I can, sir," Gazersin told him. "She's mightily ill-staffed with a crew of five, but we can limp her in. But, surely, your ship can spare a man."

He lowered his voice. "Sir, I'm afraid that the infection may be simmering aboard our ship. I even fear that the men who boarded your ship did so with the ultimate goal of delaying us from our goal of D.C., knowing we would stop for you."

"Infection!" Captain Gazersin said.

"It's an infection, sir, yes," Finn said. "It turns men to madness, as you've witnessed. And as you and your men discovered, it's insidious. Men can appear to be as they were, sad wretches adrift at sea and in need of rescue-and then monsters who slowly slip within a group. You need to take this ship to port in Key West, and find Captain Calloway. He has seen the illness, as have the people there. You'll be watched with suspicion by those with whom you should be allies, but you mustn't be dismayed. In Key West, they have now learned to deal with the disease, and every man there watches every other man."

"We can bring her to port, eh, men?" Captain Gazersin shouted, looking at his five remaining crew members.

"God help us, aye, Captain!" called one of the men. "Lord willing, and the Rebs don't strike!"

Finn looked over at Charles Lafferty, who had proven to be such stalwart help after first mocking him on the island.

"Lafferty, gather Grissom and London. We return to our own ship," Finn said.

In another twenty minutes, Tara, Finn and the crew from the Freedom had returned to their own vessel. Captain Gazersin stared across the hull and the few feet of water separating the two ships, facing Captain Tremblay.

"May God speed us both now, Captain!" Gazersin shouted to Tremblay.

"Aye, sir! Do you know if the information your imposter gave us was true? Negotiations have failed-and we remain at war?"

"Aye, sir! That's true," Gazersin replied. "Sherman has now marched through the Carolinas, and General Grant plans his offensive in Virginia. The war in the West continues, but there is progress against the Rebels. May God grant us all a speedy end to this great conflict!"

"Amen," Captain Tremblay said.

"Men! Clear the grappling hooks!"

The ships were separated. Captain Gazersin shouted orders to his men, and added his own effort to hoisting the great sails of his ship.

Finn stood at the hull by Tremblay and the others as the ships parted, and the Freedom continued north, while Captain Gazersin disappeared on their voyage south.

"Captain," Dr. MacKay said. "Perhaps we've made a grave mistake, sending her off after such an event with a skeleton crew."

Billy Seabold was standing next to him. "I know what Agent Dunne was thinking. He couldn't put a man from this ship aboard her. Agent Dunne doesn't really trust a one of us."

"Ah, Billy!" MacKay said. "He trusts one of us. He trusts Miss Fox. And I believe we all trust Captain Tremblay, don't you think?"

"Or," Finn began, "I didn't trust them enough to leave one of ours aboard their ship."

As if to end all speculation on allegiances, Captain Tremblay suddenly roared orders, showing his authority. "To your stations, men! Stay in threes! And full speed ahead!"

TARA SPENT MUCH of the day in her cabin, lying down. She couldn't shake the image of the dead man-the young fellow who had brought the tray to her at Key West. He'd been grateful to her-in shock but still so grateful-and then...

She wondered how many men they had presumed missing or dead had fallen victim to this plague. And she couldn't help but wonder again if many who had been such good men couldn't have been helped.

There was a tap at her door as evening came. It was Richard, and he brought her a tray of food. "There's a vial there, as well," Richard said gruffly. "Compliments of Agent Dunne."

She nodded, murmuring, "Of course."

Richard sat at the cabin's desk, looking at her where she sat at the foot of the bed. "Tara, what would happen if you didn't...if you didn't have a vial now and then?"

She stared at him. She'd known him most of her life, and she couldn't help but take affront at the question.

"I'd find a bilge rat," she told him.

"And if the rats were all gone...?"

She stood. "Richard, get out. Please."

He walked over to her. "Forgive me, dear friend-sister!" Richard said. "It's just that...I have known you forever. And I had never imagined that what you are could turn into...what those men became."

"Richard, I would die myself before besieging an innocent man or woman, no matter the circumstances. And when I'm forced to kill-as we all seem to be in this-I am at heart remorseful, and careful to see that the dead rest with God. And so help me, if there is a way to save a man, I will save him."

He went down on his knees at her side and took her hands. "I'm so sorry. Please forgive me. I was so wrong to speak. But we've seen so much that... God help us all! And it's true-Dunne thinks that someone aboard this ship is a monster."

She nodded. She touched his hair, looking into his eyes. "Richard, you needn't fear. He knows that it's not you."

He shook his head. "They say that the two men 'rescued' from the sea came from Fort Zachary Taylor."

She nodded. "I knew the one man, Richard. He'd been kind to me."

He sat next to her on the bed and she leaned against him as he slipped an arm around her. For a long moment they just sat together. "I never thought that I'd be praying to live long enough to reach a federal prison," Richard said lightly.

"You'll live, Richard. You'll live!" she said passionately.

"Ah, Tara, you always think that you can change the world. You want to stop all the pain everywhere. No one can do that, you know."

The door started to open; they both went still, looking toward it. Tara felt the tension that filled Richard's muscles.

Finn had come.

"Captain Tremblay would like your advice on the coastline, Richard," Finn said.

"Aye, then."

He turned to Tara, kissed her on the forehead and rose. The two men left and the door closed. Tara rose and exited the cabin, as well. She stood by the door to the cabin and felt the night breeze rush around her.

Darkness again. But they were still far from the port, far from Washington, and although she believed that perhaps they had been fated to have an encounter with the Union ship devastated by the monsters, she thought that now they would be waiting again.

Feeling the tension aboard the Freedom rising, she walked over to the captain's station near the helm. Richard was pointing out an area where the shallows could tempt a man by night, and advising Captain Tremblay on an alternate route. The sky was growing dark; some men sat with their mess kits, quietly conversing while they ate. There was a man up in the crow's next, on lookout.

The air was crisp; the breeze remained with them and, against the velvet sky, the sails billowed, oddly beautiful.

Finn stood at the stern, looking northward.

He turned as if he knew that she watched him. Then he looked to the sea again.

Tara returned to the cabin. She browsed through the books she found there, but a tract on the speed of mid-Atlantic storms did nothing to hold her attention. She ate and paced, and considered heading out on deck again, but the tension on the ship held her back. While they had sailed with good camaraderie previously, even with the weight of fear upon them, tonight seemed to bring with it something different.

At length, she lay down. She didn't believe that she fell asleep, but she felt as if she left the place where she was, as if the air around her became an opaque rush.

She was back in Washington, D.C., again, sitting at the desk before Lincoln.

He looked up at her and smiled a welcome. "I'm about to give another inaugural speech, my dear. It's so important, always, to say the right thing." He paused, flushing. "At Gettysburg, I didn't want to speak too long as people had already sat through a great oration. No words, of course, can ease the pain for those whom death touches personally. I hope that they know-the Rebel soldiers, just as the Union soldiers-that they all died to create a nation that must stand firm under God, and will one day rise to prove itself a bastion of freedom for all men."

He sighed deeply. "Of course, I wish to speed recovery. I wish that the last of the battles may come, and that we may begin to heal the great rift between us. But I cannot approve any constitution for any state that is ready to return to the Union if they don't grant equality for all men-white and black." He paused, looking at her. "You're coming closer, aren't you?"

"Yes, sir. And it's more important than ever that you take care of yourself."

"Ah, don't worry! My good friends-military, civilian, Pinkerton-watch out for me. It hurts me, child, to see one so young worry so much."

"You must understand, sir, that you have become the embodiment of the Union."

He smiled. "Ah, yes. Well, the years have been hard and bitter. I think so often of my poor wife. It was a great day when I could come and tell my dear Mary that my enemies had not triumphed, that God himself was on my side, and I won the election the second time."

He cleared his throat. "Tell me, what do you think? I will end my simple words-for a second speech should not be a long one!-with this sentiment, one that we must embrace. 'With malice toward none, with charity for all, with firmness in the right as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in, to bind up the nation's wounds, to care for him who shall have borne the battle and for his widow and his orphan, to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace among ourselves and with all nations.'"

"I think, Mr. Lincoln, that you are one of the finest politicians and men to ever hold public office," she told him.

He smiled, looking at her. "Do I imagine you?" he asked softly. "Do I need to believe that the enemy will again be my friend, and so I speak to an unknown angel?"

"I, too, often wonder if I am dreaming when we speak," Tara replied.

"So you are real. Are you living? Or perhaps I brought you to me when I attended one of my dear wife's seances in the Red Room?"

"I'm most certainly real, sir. And I'm coming to help you...?."

He didn't hear her, Tara realized. She was feeling the rush of misty, opaque air again, and she was coming back to lie in her bunk in the captain's cabin aboard the Freedom.

She started, almost screaming. She wasn't alone. Finn was seated in the desk chair, opposite her, watching her. He wore a grave expression as he did so.

"You were...gone," he told her.

She eased up against the paneled wall in the niche where the cot was positioned, looked at him, and let out a long sigh. "I told you. I dream that I am with President Lincoln. Or, perhaps, it's some kind of vision. I don't understand myself. I have never met him. When the war began, I understood so little of what was happening. And then, in the summer of 1862, I began to have these dreams."

"We were losing badly in the summer of 1862," Finn reflected.

"Men were dying and Mr. Brady and other photographers were on the battlefields, and we, at home, were able to see how horrible the cost of war!" Tara said. She shook her head. "Finn, I don't know what it is-it's something that I see and feel, but perhaps it's all in my mind, and I am going mad. But then again, as we both know, there are so many things that the world can't see or accept-such as what we are. So perhaps my dreams or visions are real."

"Perhaps," he agreed. "And perhaps you have a talent that I do not."

He didn't touch her; he didn't come closer. It was almost as if he needed to keep a distance. She was surprised by his words when he spoke again. "Have you ever had any such similar experience?"

She frowned, looking back at him. "I knew the night my mother would die," she said. "But she was ill. I believe that other people have had such sensations at the crux of the life of a loved one. Maybe we just see when the illness has run its course. We love someone so much that there's something inside of us that warns us when the end is near."

He was thoughtful for a moment. "I try to come close to each man in the crew. I should be able to see through the monster among us, but I can't. I'm somehow blinded, and I can only think that it's someone old, and very adept and experienced. And I feel that we've been playing a game, and that we've been behind each step of the way. And because we're sailing north, and we're coming closer and closer to Washington, I fear that the monster is Gator himself, and that I am bringing him straight to his target."

"We can sail elsewhere," she said.

"That won't solve the situation. I have to ferret out the enemy," he said.

"I don't know who it is," she told him. "I know that it is not me, and that it is not Richard...?."

"I've said it many times-I'm not here to accuse you."

"Then?"

"I'm here because I need you."

She sat up in the bed, looking at him. "What do you mean?"

"I'm not at all certain that I believe that those truly dead can rise, that ghosts come back to speak to us, or that poor Mary Lincoln or even President Lincoln have any hope of reaching their lost children. But I do believe that maybe, just maybe, there are more avenues to the human mind than any of us knows. And your mind may be the one that sees," he added quietly. "And, of course, you were in Key West, you were near the fort...?. There might have been something, some clue, that just hasn't reached the forefront of your mind as yet."

"What do you want me to do?" she asked.

"Tomorrow, we'll be off the coast of the Carolinas, and soon after that, we'll reach the Washington Naval Yard. Every step of the way, we might well have fallen into the perfect trap. Led to believe that Gator was a Rebel, we hunted down a blockade runner. And once that was achieved and our ship was lost, we were beset. But each battle that we've fought so far, I believe we were intended to win. Except, perhaps, the last. If we'd grappled onto the Union ship yesterday, those men would have taken over, and the Freedom would have reached Washington with a company of men ready to create real havoc-while Gator himself got to the president. We have to discover the truth tomorrow, Tara. We have to."

"What is your plan?" she asked.

"Bait," he said softly.

"Bait?"

"You."

She was surprised to feel a chill ripple along her spine. She'd begun this in innocence of what horror could truly await them, but she had followed him every step of the way, and though she remained horrified by the carnage, she knew that she had done well enough.

"What do you want me to do?" she asked him. "I would do anything, you know," she added hastily. "The president must live!"

He lowered his head, smiling. "I'll be at your back, though you may not see me, through every step you take."

"How am I bait?" she asked.

"I have to get you alone with each man," he told her.

"But you've ordered that everyone must stay in threes."

He nodded. "Except, of course, when someone comes to see you aboard the ship. You're right on the main deck here, with activity just beyond the door. There will be a way and a reason to send each man to you."

She shook her head. "Still, I don't see what you will accomplish."

"Gator, I believe wholeheartedly, intends to take over the ship before we reach port. That means he will strike tomorrow or tomorrow night. The men on this ship have learned well, but none has the strength that you and I possess. Given the chance, Gator will want to destroy you as a threat."

"And not you?"

"Oh, yes. But I believe that he sees you as an easier target."

"I'm not an easy target!"

"I didn't say that," he assured her, smiling gravely. "But I have far more experience. If he is able to take you down, he will believe that he can rip through the men. When he's created enough havoc...well, then, he can come for me, without my having hope of any assistance. He's been laying traps for us since I arrived in Key West. It's time for us to lay a trap for him."

Tara nodded. "I will do whatever you think we must. I know that I must reach the president. So...do we start now?"

He looked at her. He lowered his head again for a moment, and then met her eyes. "Tonight, we rest and gather strength," he told her.

She looked at him, and she was ready. But also afraid.

"All right," she murmured.

He started to rise. "I should leave you to that rest."

"No."

"No?"

"Don't leave."

He smiled. "I rather thought that you were angry with me."

"I am."

"Then...?"

"Well, you see, I'm really not that tired. And I do believe a bit of physical exertion would help greatly in that matter," she told him.

There were a dozen arguments they might have had. There were many things they might have said. But they didn't speak at all.

He took her into his arms, and his mouth found hers.

Whatever the morning would bring, Tara thought, she would have the night.