(the conclusion of Future Determined)

By: Liz and Andy

Bob ran down the dim corridor and skidded around a corner, throwing a suit of armor down behind him.

The User, only a few steps behind, kicked the rusted armor out of the way and pounded after Bob, waving its sword.

A demon appeared out of a side corridor, and swung its sword at Bob with a roar.

"Whoops! Sorry to disturb you, just passing through," Bob told it. He caught the creature’s blade on his own, danced around the demon until its back was to the oncoming User, then turned and ran.

The demon wasn’t programmed to chase players, so it simply stood there, staring after the Guardian. Its confusion ended when the User, without breaking stride, swept its head from its shoulders.

Bob burst into the last chamber of the Game and vaulted toward the statue at the far end, jumping over a trick tile and ducking a spray of ax blades.

"Bob?"

Bob screeched to a stop and glanced wildly about.

The sound was not repeated.

"Who's there?" Bob peered into the darkness, trying to locate the speaker. "Who are you, and how do you know my name?"

There was a swift intake of breath, and a rustle from a dark corner beside the enormous statue.

"Who are you?" Bob asked again. He took a few steps toward the shadowy corner. His eyes suddenly widened. "Enzo?"

"By Kron! I want the tooth!" The User had reached the final chamber.

Bob didn’t waste time. "Hold on, Enzo, it’ll all be over in a nano." He spun on his heel, and vaulted up the steps. He climbed the statue and grabbed for the golden tooth. The User, however, had triggered the trick tile. The statue's mouth slammed shut. On Bob's fingers. Bob yelped, and tugged frantically as the User advanced.

"I want the tooth!" the User said again.

"You know, you really need to get some new lines," Bob said. He jammed his sword into the statue’s mouth, and levered the stone jaws open.

The User started up the steps, and swung its sword at Bob’s dangling legs. It connected just as Bob pulled the golden tooth free.

"Game...Over" Mainframe's system voice said.

The Game cube lifted, and Bob fell. He hit the ground feet first, and crumpled to the street with a cry. He rolled onto his side and looked down at the deep slash the User’s sword had cut midway between his hip and knee. "Oh, this is bad," he hissed through his teeth. "Very bad."

Somewhere behind Bob, there was a gasp, then running footsteps.

"Enzo?" Bob tried to turn, and winced as his injured leg dragged on the ground. "Enzo, wait!"

* * *

"Commander Matrix! The Game is leaving!"

Dot’s face relaxed as the final Game readings scrolled. "Finally." Dot took several deep breaths before speaking again. "Is Bob all right?"

"No report yet—wait!" Specky tapped a key to take an incoming call. "Sir! The Guardian’s been injured!"

"What! How?" Dot hastily tapped into the transmission. She looked the bedraggled doctor in the eye and said, "Doctor? Report."

The binome in the vidwindow wiped his brow and answered, "The Guardian says it’s a sword wound, Commander. It’s a deep cut, but it should heal completely if he stays off it for a few cycles."

"Let’s hope the User gives him that long," Dot muttered darkly. "I’ll be there in a few nanos."

The doctor hesitated for a moment. "I’m not sure I can allow that, Commander," he said formally.

Dot’s face creased. "Why not?"

"Because he doesn’t seem to be quite lucid, ma’am. He’s talking about seeing your younger brother in the Game."

"What?"

"He’s lost a lot of energy, ma’am," the doctor said hastily. "Sometimes shock can play tricks on the mind."

"I’m on my way," Dot told him. She turned on her heel and left, moving at a speed just below a run.

"Wait!" The doctor lifted a hand and called out of the window toward Dot’s retreating back. He exchanged a frightened look with Specky before closing the window.

* * *

Dot arrived at the medical clinic less than ten nanos later. "I want to see Bob," she told the receptionist firmly.

The young binome looked up at Dot from behind the desk, and took a deep breath, obviously a bit awed by the presence of the Command.com. "They’re—they’re testing him for infection, Ms. Matrix," he said respectfully. "You’re supposed to wait here until we’re sure it’s safe."

Dot paled. "How long will that be?"

"I don’t know, ma’am," the receptionist said unhappily. "Until they run out of scans, I suppose."

Dot sat down in one of the waiting room chairs. "All right," she said faintly. "I want to know the moment they’re done."

"Of course."

Dot pulled out her organizer and started flipping through files, staring at them without comprehension.

* * *

It was nearly three microseconds before the receptionist led Dot back into Bob’s recovery room.

The Guardian looked much the worse for wear. His thickly-bandaged right leg was propped up on a pile of pillows, and his face was pale and drawn. Someone had pinned his PID onto his hospital gown crooked. Still, Bob managed a smile for Dot. "I guess I’m finally allowed visitors," he greeted her. "For a while there I thought they were going to throw me into quarantine until the next Game."

"How are you feeling?" Dot asked. She seated herself on the edge of the bed, careful not to jostle Bob.

Bob shifted over a bit to make some more room for Dot. "Well, I’ve gotta admit that a complete mental and physical infection check isn’t one of my favorite ways to spend a day," he said ruefully. "I think I’d rather let the User take another swing at me than go through all that again."

"They’re just being cautious, Bob." Dot said soothingly.

"Paranoid is more like it," Bob shot back testily. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. "I’m sorry, Dot. I didn’t mean that. It’s just been a long cycle."

"It certainly has," Dot answered. She took Bob’s hand and held it, then solemnly looked him in the face. "Bob, the initial report said you were talking about Enzo right after the Game. Do you remember that?"

"Of course I do," Bob answered patiently. "Whatever anyone else told you, I wasn’t delirious. I saw Enzo, Dot. He was in the last chamber of the Game. And there was someone else in that street right after the Game left."

Dot’s face fell. "But if it was Enzo, why didn’t he stay? Where is he?"

Bob pulled his hand out of Dot’s fingers and rubbed his temples. "I don’t know, Dot. It doesn’t make any sense to me either. But I know what I saw." He paused, then deliberately pulled his hair back away from his face. "Are you going to believe me, or do you want to order some more tests?"

Dot reached, and pulled Bob’s hand in her lap as she lowered her head. "I want to believe you, Bob," she whispered. "But I can’t help thinking that maybe all you saw was what you wanted to see. Maybe it was just a Game sprite."

"I can tell the difference between a Game sprite and a system sprite, Dot. And I know what else you’re thinking." Bob gently freed his hand and lifted Dot’s chin. "I’m asking you to trust me, Dot. Enzo is back in Mainframe." He patted her cheek, then grinned. "Now, would you mind bringing me some pajamas? This gown is drafty."

Dot managed a watery smile at that.

* * *

Dot yawned as she entered the Principle Office the next morning. Her face sagged a little, evidence that she hadn’t slept very well.

Her staff, by contrast, was wide awake. Specky almost bowled Dot over as he ran to wave a report in her face. "Commander Matrix!" The always-jittery Specky was trying very hard to conceal his relief. "We’ve got a problem."

All traces of weariness in Dot vanished. She plucked the report out of Specky’s hand. "What’s wrong, Specky? Is it Bob?" She glanced around the control room, noticing for the first time that both her regular morning staff and the graveyard shift from the night before were scattered around the room, all frozen in their tracks and staring at her. "Aren’t some of you supposed to be home by now?"

A few eyes turned to exchange worried glances with each other, but no one answered. Dot turned back to her lieutenant. "What’s going on here?"

Specky took a deep breath. "There was a break-in last night. The third shift called me when the report came in. We’ve been investigating since 0400."

Dot looked at the report in her hand, and her brow furrowed. "It looks like it was just a petty theft, Specky." She glanced back at the fidgeting binome. "Isn’t this the sort of thing the CPUs can handle?"

"There were some…other concerns. Sir." Specky’s eye shifted toward the door of Dot’s office.

Dot glanced at the crowd, and then back to Specky. "Perhaps we should discuss this in my office." She put on her most reassuringly competent face and told the late shift, "All right, people, you can go home now. I’ll handle this." She started toward her office door, with Specky at her heels.

Once the door was safely closed behind them, Dot sat down on the corner of her desk and waved Specky into a chair. The Command.com glanced again at the report in her hand, then said, "Specky, explain to me why the whole staff is panicking over a thief who stole 36 units of food supplies."

"35.14, Commander. From Mother Board’s Bakery on Level Five." Specky pushed his taped-together eyeglass closer to his face.

"Yes," Dot furrowed her brows. "It’s nothing that hasn’t happened before, Specky."

"Sir, what if it wasn’t someone from Mainframe?" Specky burst out. "What if the Guardian really did see something? What if it came with him out of the Game? What if it was a virus? Or an infected system sprite?" The little binome began to audibly rattle. "What if—"

"Lieutenant!" Dot barked. She moderated her tone, and continued, "You’re letting your imagination run away with you. We don’t know what Bob saw," she said wearily, "Or if he saw anything. Even if he did, it might not have stayed in Mainframe."

"But what about this theft?"

"The CPU’s are going to investigate, just like they would any other theft, and report directly to you and me if anything unusual turns up." Dot stared steadily at Specky.

Specky nodded, and turned to leave her office.

* * *

Bob opened his eyes with a start as someone opened the door to his room. "Hi, Phong."

Phong rolled into view. "Your hearing is impressive, Guardian." He rolled over to the side of Bob’s bed. "How are you feeling?"

Bob carefully sat up. "I wish they’d let me out of here. I’m fine."

"Dot told me that the User very nearly sliced your leg off."

"Dot always exaggerates when Matrix or I get injured. The doctors sealed the cut. All I need is some food that doesn’t come from a hospital kitchen." Bob pushed the blankets back and swung his left leg to the floor. "Let’s get out of here."

Phong stretched his neck until his face was on a level with Bob’s. "Actually, Dot has sent me to make sure you stay in bed, Bob. You need time to mend, before you can defend." He opened his drawer, and rummaged. "I brought some board games."

Bob opened his mouth, then closed it abruptly, and settled back against the pillows with a sigh. "Thanks, Phong."

"You are welcome, my son." Phong set a battered Gates and Buses board on the edge of the bed. Then he adjusted his glasses with one hand, and steepled his fingers. "Dot also said something about you seeing someone in the game with you."

"Not just anyone, Phong. Enzo. He stayed after the Game. I heard someone running away before the medics arrived."

"But he and AndrAIa are in the Net looking for your wayward parents." Phong gazed steadily at Bob. "Or do you mean, the young Enzo?"

"Yes. He was in the final chamber of the last game. Hiding, it looked like."

"Interesting." Phong stroked his beard thoughtfully.

Bob waited for a nano or two, then said bitterly, "You don’t believe me either, do you?"

Phong smiled at Bob. "Do not be so quick to jump to conclusions, Guardian. The thought is quicker than the eye, but wisdom comes slowly. I was merely considering what your vision could mean." Phong thought for a minute longer. "If Enzo did return with you to Mainframe, why would he not show himself?"

"I don’t know, Phong," Bob said in exasperation. "Everyone I’ve talked to has asked me that, and I don’t have an answer."

"Hmm." Phong fingered his beard and looked Bob straight in the eye. "I see three possible explanations, Bob." Phong lifted his fingers and his eyebrows. "The first is that, as many in Mainframe fear, you are losing your mind."

"Thanks a lot, Phong. I never would have thought of that myself."

Unruffled, Phong went on. "The second is that what you saw was not Enzo, but instead another game-hopping sprite, or worse, an infected sprite. Or perhaps a virus."

"If that’s true then I really have to get out of this hospital."

"But there is no reason for a virus to hide. It would begin its infection immediately."

"Not necessarily, Phong. Some viruses wait for the next upgrade, or a restart, and then attack while everyone’s off-guard." Bob rubbed his temples, then ran his fingers through his hair. "What’s the third possibility?"

Phong paused a moment, then said solemnly, "It is possible that you indeed saw Enzo, Guardian. If that is the case, then there is something very wrong."

"In any case, there’s something wrong," Bob answered.

* * *

Despite Bob’s protests that he would mend much better at home, Dot, Phong, and the clinic staff insisted on keeping him under observation for nearly a decacycle.

* * *

Dot had a full morning scheduled that cycle. She was supervising the retrieval of the weekly intelligence reports from the Net when a portal opened above the Principle Office’s central console.

Bob, leaning heavily on a jerry-rigged crutch, stepped out of the portal onto the console. "Hi, everybody! What’s processing?" He glanced around the room, then looked down. "Whoops! I guess my calibration was a little off." He took a limping step forward, and his crutch promptly slid out from under him. Bob sat down hard with a grunt. The schematic that had been showing on the console fragmented and burst into a swirl of incoherent color. Bob flushed guiltily, and found Dot. "Sorry about that."

"What are you doing here, Bob?" Dot’s tone was just a little bit sharp. "You’re supposed to be resting."

Bob slid across the console, scrambling a few more programs. "I’ve spent more restful cycles playing war games with Matrix," he commented. "If I have to see one more episode of "True Stories of Mainframe" I’ll go viral."

A nervous titter swept the room, then fell abruptly silent.

Bob looked around the room again, taking in the tense expressions of Dot’s staff. He sobered. "Dot, I can’t just lie in bed when I know Enzo’s out there. I have to find him."

Dot pulled Bob off the console. "Come into my office, Bob. I think we need to talk." She crossed the floor, and keyed open the door to her office. "See what you can do to get those reports before lunch," she told her staff.

Bob hobbled across the room and into Dot’s office. He let himself down into one of the visitor chairs with a sigh.

Dot closed the door behind herself, and leaned against it for a moment before speaking. "Bob, you’re starting to scare me."

"I know, Dot, but—"

"—You know what you saw." Dot pushed herself away from the door and took the few steps necessary to put herself between the desk and Bob. "Have you considered that maybe it was just some strange dream you had? Something triggered by energy loss?"

"Or guilt." Bob met Dot’s eyes. "I haven’t thought about much else, Dot. That’s why I had to get out of that bed. I lost Enzo once. I’m not going to risk losing him again."

"Where does it stop, then, Bob?" Dot demanded. "Most of the city’s already afraid of you. You saw how my staff reacted when that portal opened."

Bob settled back in the chair and heaved a deep sigh. "I can’t help what I am, Dot. I was Mainframe’s Guardian before the war, before the Web, and before Daemon. I’m still a Guardian, and I’m going to do my job. Maybe I was seeing things." He leaned forward, avoiding putting weight on his injured leg by propping his left elbow on the arm of the chair. "But as long as there’s a chance I wasn’t, I’m going to keep looking. Now, are you going to help me?"

Dot took a deep breath, and flexed her fingers. "But why, Bob? If—what you saw—if it really was Enzo, why hasn’t he come here? Why hasn’t he at least sent us a message?"

"I don’t know, Dot. We’ll have to ask him when we find him."

"I hope you find him, Bob." She looked him in the eyes. "I hope you find my brother."

"So you’ll help me?"

Dot nodded, then lifted an eyebrow and said with a perfectly straight face, "If you promise not to portal in on top of my work again, I’ll lend you half our CPUs."

"You mean the ones sitting in pieces all over the shop floor?"

"We’ve got two of them running now. Want one?"

"Actually, no." Bob grinned. "Could you spare Hack and Slash?" He glanced around, as if expecting the bumbling pair to appear out of thin air. "Where are they, anyway? I haven’t seen them in decacycles."

"I loaned them to Hexadecimal. She wanted help rounding up the Nulls in Lost Angles."

"Sounds like fun."

The banter was broken by the appearance of Specky, who burst into the office, the tape on his glasses wagging. "Commander Matrix! There’s been another break-in!"

"Another one? Where is it this time?" Dot’s brisk tone gave no hint of the flippant mood of a moment before.

"On the lower levels of Kits Sector, sir. Ma’am. It’s definitely the work of the same thief."

"The same thief?" Bob said curiously. "Dot, what’s going on here?"

"There’s been a rash of burglaries in the last few cycles," Dot admitted.

"Why didn’t you tell me?" Bob asked.

"I didn’t want to disturb you. This is just a petty criminal, Bob. So far, almost everything that’s been stolen has been food supplies. The CPUs can handle it." Dot’s eyes slid away from Bob.

"Petty or not, this thief is a threat to Mainframe," Bob stated flatly. His eyes narrowed. "When exactly did these burglaries begin?"

"The morning after the Game," Dot answered quietly.

Bob turned to the binome. "Specky, I want everything you’ve got on these thefts."

Specky, obviously torn, looked from the Guardian to Dot.

Dot sighed, and nodded. "Give him whatever he asks for, Specky. Maybe it’ll keep him out of our hair for a while."

* * *

Only two officers remained at the scene of the most recent crime by the time Bob arrived.

"Hold steady, Binky, old chap. I’ve almost got it." Algernon, clutching a roll of yellow tape, stretched, and managed to tack the end of the tape to the doorframe of the burglarized shop.

Bob, with his crutch propped beside his right leg on the pad of his zipboard, skimmed in behind them. "Hi, guys. Mind if I take a look before you seal up?"

Binky jumped, and since he was supporting Algernon, they both fell with a clatter, pulling the tape down with them.

"I say, do give a chap some warning before you sneak up like that, Bob." Algernon sat up and delicately put his hat back on his head.

"Sorry," Bob answered. "Here, let me help you with that." He stepped off the zipboard, and bent to pick up the roll of tape. He reached up and tacked the end of the tape to the doorframe one-handed.

"He’s a clever blighter, Bob," Algernon said. The CPU’s mustache twitched. "He disabled the alarm, then short-circuited the door. He’s quite good at it."

"The really good ones don’t leave any traces, Algernon," Bob said, bending to peer into the dead lock mechanism. "I’ve known sprites who could break into the Archives without leaving so much as a scratch on the doors. This burglar left knife marks all over the place." Bob shook his head. "Whoever’s doing this isn’t a professional."

Algernon blinked, then took a step back and exchanged an apprehensive look with Binky. "I suppose a Guardian would know more about that sort of thing than a simple CPU," he said with some asperity. His eye flicked to Bob’s temples.

Bob’s reply gave no indication that he had noticed either the sarcasm or the glance. "How much was stolen? Would it be too much for one sprite to carry?"

"I don’t think so, sir. The owner of the shop says there are several bags of chips missing, and a few sandwiches from the refrigerator."

"So we’re looking for a single hungry burglar," Bob said, standing up. "Where else has our thief broken in?"

"The first one was Mother Board’s Bakery, over in G Prime. Two cycles later Desi, who owns a very fine donut shop in Baudway, lost nearly four dozen donuts to this thieving dog."

"He took all the chocolate ones!" Binky added.

Algernon nodded, and went on, "Yesterday, it was a refreshment stand in Floating Point Park." He spread his hands helplessly. "There doesn’t seem to be any pattern to it."

Bob looked back at the lock, then gently fingered one of the scratches on the ruined keypad. "Oh, there’s a pattern, all right. We just have to find it."

"I beg your pardon, sir? Do you know who this criminal is?"

Bob scowled, and took a deep breath. "I’ve got an idea, Algernon, but it doesn’t make any sense." He activated his zipboard. "Keep me posted, will you?"

"Of course…" the CPU murmured as Bob sped away. "…Guardian."

* * *

Dot unlocked the door to the apartment with fumbling fingers. She entered the living room, and simultaneously closed the door and tapped her icon. Dressed in battered pink sweats and a pair of fuzzy bunny slippers, she was halfway to the kitchen before her head came up, and she sniffed.

The air was scented with a combination of cooking smells and motor oil. Dot smiled and ambled down the hall. As she passed, she reached up and let her fingers run down the strings of Bob’s BFG, which hung on the wall opposite the bedroom. The metallic twang of the strings was drowned out by the clanging coming from the oversized spare room at the end of the hall. Bob’s aged 262 was visible through the open door. Dot glanced at the chaos of car parts and tools scattered around the pair of feet sticking out from under the car, and grinned sleepily. She propped herself up on the door jamb and said, "Honey, I’m home."

"Dot!" There was a thump beneath the car. "Ow!" Bob slid out, pushing tools out of his way with his left foot. "I didn’t hear you come in."

"That’s no surprise. When you’re working on that car, the User could come in, have a four-course dinner, and steal the boots off your feet without you noticing."

Bob scrabbled among the mess, and fished his crutch out from under the tool chest. "I actually haven’t been at it very long. Our dinner should be ready by now."

"From the smell of it, I’d say it’s been ready for a while," Dot teased.

"Hey, it’s soup. The longer it simmers the better it is." Bob managed to get to his feet, and cast a look around the floor. "I guess I’ll have to come clean this up later."

"Why don’t you do it now," Dot suggested. "That way you won’t have to take two showers." She glanced pointedly at the grease stains on Bob’s T-shirt. "I’ll make some muffins to go with the soup while I wait."

"Sounds like a good plan." Bob picked his limping way across the floor, and gave Dot a quick kiss. "I’ll try to be fast."

* * *

Bob limped through Level 31, his crutch thumping on the walkways. Despite the fact that he had chosen his most casual cutoffs and a worn T-shirt, eyes still followed the Guardian as he painfully made his way into Al’s. The crowd of waiting patrons didn’t acknowledge Bob’s presence, but Al’s unshaven and grease-spotted waiter drawled, "Would you like to place an order?"

"No," Bob said, "I’d just like to ask you a few questions."

"Well, OK. But make it fast, will ya? I’ve got a lot of work to do." The waiter gestured lethargically to the booths.

"This won’t take long. Have you seen any new sprites around here lately?"

"Well, Dot was in here earlier today. Some sort of business meeting with Al."

"What?" Al called from the kitchen.

Bob gingerly sat down on one of the wobbly stools at the counter. "Anyone else?"

"Well, the refugees come and go. Most don’t come in here much any more."

"Have you seen any faces you don’t recognize?" Bob prodded.

The waiter thought for a moment. "Nope, no new faces around here. I’d remember that." He turned, and yelled back into the kitchen. "How about you, Al? Seen anybody you didn’t know?"

"What?"

The waiter shrugged. "I guess not. You’re welcome to ask around. Let me know if you want to order something."

"Thanks."

Bob scanned the well-worn greasy spoon. Most of the patrons were rough-looking types, as was typical for Al’s. Seven was ensconced in his usual booth, with a couple of booths open on either side. No one wanted to follow Nine down Seven’s throat.

A binome in a white jumpsuit and a gold necklace perched on a stool a bit down the counter from Bob turned and looked him over. "You look like a sprite with the blues," the binome said in a rich, husky voice. "You look like you’ve got the blues from your head to your shoes."

"I’m looking for someone," Bob answered in his most conversational tone. "Maybe you could help me."

"I’ll do the best that I can, buddy."

"I’ve heard that there’s a new sprite in town, and I’m trying to get in touch with him. Have you seen or heard anything strange in the last decacycle or so?"

"I’ve heard a lot of strange things. I’ve heard a hound dog cry, and a jailbird sing, but I haven’t heard about a new sprite in this old town."

Bob’s eyebrows rose, but he went on. "Do you know anything about the recent burglaries?"

"Only the girl who stole my heart. If you find my baby, tell her I wanna play house."

"Right." Bob moved away from the counter. "Well, thanks for your help."

"Listen, my blue buddy. Here’s the secret of my success. Never say yes."

"What does that mean?"

"I don’t know. But it’s working so far."

* * *

Bob limped out of Al’s, and took a deep breath. "And they think I’ve gone random," he commented to no one in particular.

"Oo-oo! There he is."

"I see him."

"I was just pointing him out."

"But I saw him before you said anything."

Bob interrupted before the wrangling could go any further. "Hack, Slash. Did you find anything?"

"Yeah, we found this," Slash held up a twisted piece of metal, "and we found a lot of Nulls."

"I hate Nulls." Hack commented.

"Oh, yeah, me too. They bite."

"Thanks so much for giving us this job, Bob. Hexadecimal had us looking for Nulls all the time."

"That was really boring."

Bob interrupted again. "You’re welcome, guys. Did you find the sprite?"

"Nope."

"No sprites."

"Except for you, Bob. We found you."

"Yeah, except for Bob."

"I just said that."

"I know but..."

Bob cut them off a third time. "Okay, thanks guys. Keep looking, will you?"

"Say no more."

"You’ve got it."

"Right away."

"You’re the boss."

"We’ll look some more."

"Just go." Bob pointed back toward Al’s. Hack and Slash followed his gesture, and then barged into the diner with all the subtlety of a data storm. Bob rolled his eyes and laughed. Then he turned and walked down the alley behind Al’s. "With friends like those, who needs enemies?"

* * *

"Of course." Dot reassured the image on the vidwindow. "As soon as Bob gets home, I’ll tell him that you’re visiting Archie."

"Good." The blue sprite with dark blue hair responded.

A matronly sprite with silver hair pushed her husband out of the way, "So nice of Bobby to be concerned about us. But we really are all right. We must have forgotten to call and say where we were going. Things just happened so fast. Veronica’s time came in the middle of the night, and someone needed to watch Nic. Tell Bobby he’s got a brand-new niece."

Dot grinned. "I will. Tell Archie and Veronica congratulations for me."

"Oh, we certainly will. We’re so looking forward to meeting you, dear, but I think it’s going to be a few more cycles before Veronica and the baby are ready to travel."

"We’ll be glad to see you whenever you arrive. Is my brother there? I’d like to talk to him."

The matron waved her hands and fluttered her fingers in a gesture of exasperated surrender. "Oh, these boys! We tried to convince all those youngsters to stay, but once they found out we weren’t under viral attack, they went gallivanting off into the Net in search of more trouble to get into."

"That sounds like Enzo, all right. Do you need transport? I can arrange it for you."

"Oh, no, dear, we’re fine. Captain Capacitor has kindly agreed to stay until we’re ready to leave.

"If he’s not charging you for passage, he must have found some profitable cargo." Dot smiled.

"You’re a good judge of character, Ms. Matrix." Bob’s father laughed.

"Please, call me Dot."

Bob’s mother beamed. "Yes of course. We are going to be relatives, after all. You must call me Eudora, Dot. And this old goat you can call Dell." Bob’s mother gently hit Dell’s chest with the back of her hand. "I’d introduce you to Claris, but she’s busy mooning over the MFE Vid Heartthrob of the week."

Dot found herself grinning broadly. "You have a wonderful family, Eudora."

Dell spoke up, "Well, we don’t want to keep you from your job. We’ll be here for another few cycles, and then we’ll come to Mainframe."

Dot smiled. "That sounds great. See you then."

"Goodbye, dear." Eudora waved. The vid window went blank.

* * *

Bob got home about a microsecond later. "Sorry I’m late, Dot," he said as he opened the door. "I…" he stopped. "Dot?" He surveyed the apartment. It was neat as a PIN, and smelled of air freshener. "Dot?" Bob called again.

"Hi, Bob. Be sure to wipe your feet, will you?" Dot, carrying a feather duster and her organizer, sailed out of the bedroom and across the living room to kiss Bob lightly on the cheek. "Your parents called. They’re with your brother. They said to tell you you’ve got a new niece."

"I do?"

"Yes. Her name is Sura and she arrived in the middle of the night." Dot grinned. "Your mother was very disappointed that her Bobby wasn’t home."

Bob blushed. "So did she show you my baby pictures yet?"

"She was too busy showing me the new baby."

"That sounds like Mom."

"She’s a wonderful mother, Bob."

"Are you sure you want to say that before you’ve even met her?" Bob teased.

"She raised you, didn’t she?"

"Whether I liked it or not, yes. If taking out the garbage and eating balanced meals build character, then I’ve got enough character for two."

"That sounds great," Dot said wistfully.

"Oh, I’m sorry, Dot. I didn’t mean to—"

"It’s all right, Bob." Dot put her arms around Bob and held him for a moment. Then she let go and said in a totally different tone, "You should get off your feet. Come sit down."

* * *

"Password approved. File archived."

"That was almost too easy." Dot commented. "We haven’t had a problem all morning—"

"Commander!" Specky cried in alarm. "Someone just hacked into the system!"

"Right on cue," Dot sighed. "Hail them."

"Hailing frequencies open."

Dot straightened in her chair. "Unauthorized vessel, this is Dot Matrix, the Command.com of Mainframe. Identify yourself."

A familiar purring voice answered, "I just thought I’d save you some time by letting myself in, sugar."

Dot smiled. "You could try running your ID signal, Mouse."

"That’s assuming my ship has one, honey. Listen, I’m just going to drop off your brother and AndrAIa and get right back out on the Net. Something big is heating up out there, and I’d sure like to know what it is. Are you going to give me landing clearance, or should I push some more buttons I’m not supposed to know about?"

"You’re cleared, Mouse."

"Good. Seriously, Dot, you’ve gotta work on your lockdown protocols."

"They’ve held pretty well so far."

"That’s only because no one wanted to get in bad enough to pay a professional. Trust me, Dot. If I wanted to, I could break this system open and clean it out in nanos."

"But you won’t, and everyone knows there’s no better hacker than the Mouse," Dot teased.

"I hack clean, Dot. I don’t like to leave a mess behind me. Lotta other hackers don’t care who gets deleted and what gets destroyed, long as they get what they came for. I’d help you myself, but I’ve gotta meet Ray in two cycles. I’ll send you a file of the holes I found."

"All right. We’ll see what we can do."

"I’ll work on it, Dot," AndrAIa’s voice volunteered.

"Thank you, AndrAIa."

* * *

Mouse took off as soon as Matrix and AndrAIa’s feet hit the ground.

Dot watched Ship soar off, leaving a trail of snarled traffic behind it. "She’s in a hurry," she observed.

"I think she’s worried about Ray," AndrAIa answered. "He’s been in the Web for the past couple of decacycles, so Mouse hasn’t heard from him."

"Are Bob’s parents and brother really safe?" Dot asked.

"For now," Matrix answered. "They’re not on the front lines yet, but their system’s one of the next in line."

"Eudora’s trying to convince Archie and Veronica to close the shop and move here," AndrAIa added.

Dot nodded. "Why don’t we continue this over dinner? We’ve got a lot of catching up to do."

* * *

Cecil seated the trio in a secluded booth by the kitchen, offering profuse attention and deference to Dot and AndrAIa. He zipped into the kitchen and returned moments later with a vase of fresh flowers for the table.

"Thank you, Cecil," Dot said to the bowtied maitre’d. "Bob’s going to be joining us soon. We’ll order when he arrives."

"But of course, Mademoiselle, but of course!" Cecil managed to bow, despite being on a ceiling track. He didn’t, however, quite manage to hide his worried look.

Dot waited until Cecil was safely busy elsewhere, then turned to Matrix and AndrAIa and said, "All right, fill me in. What’s happening out there?"

"It looks like the date Turbo gave us was a little early," Matrix said. "Some systems have managed to quarantine her forces."

"But it’s all they can do to maintain the quarantine," AndrAIa put in. "No one’s found any way to counteract the infection." Her large green eyes were wide and haunted. "They have to delete everything—"

"And everyone," Matrix muttered grimly.

"—Who comes in contact with the infection," AndrAIa finished. "Daemon’s not just using Guardians anymore. She’s infecting everything—sprites, binomes, dogs—"

"And kids," Matrix added. His tone was full of harsh loathing as he continued, "Even Megabyte wasn’t that sick."

The color had drained from Dot’s face. "So what can we do?"

"What we always do," AndrAIa said firmly. "We stick together, and turn a hopeless situation into a fighting chance."

"Hi, guys," Bob greeted cheerfully. "I’m really looking forward to a good meal and a chance to sit down for a while. I’ve been on my feet almost all cycle." He stopped short, leaning on his crutch, and surveyed the bleak faces around the table. "What did I miss?" he asked in a sober tone, sliding into the booth next to Dot.

"It’s bad, Bob. Very bad," Dot told him.

"Your family’s going to come with Capacitor, Bob," Matrix said. "Dot, I told the captain you’d pay whatever it costs to bring all of Bob’s relatives to Mainframe. They’ll be safer here."

Dot blinked. "Of course."

"Is it that bad, Matrix?" Bob asked.

"Worse," Matrix answered.

Cecil chose that moment to appear and take their orders, and the conversation afterward shifted to discussion of Bob’s new niece. They were well into their entrees before AndrAIa asked, "So what have you been up to, Bob?"

"I’ve been investigating a string of petty burglaries. I’m also looking for Enzo."

"I’m right here," Matrix commented.

"I meant little Enzo," Bob said.

A series of puzzled and worried glances flew across the table. "What do you mean, Bob?" AndrAIa asked.

"I saw Enzo in the last Game, AndrAIa," Bob said earnestly. "He took off after the Game, I’m not sure why. The first break-in happened the night after the Game. I think Enzo’s behind it. I have to find him."

"But if Enzo was in Mainframe, why would he run away from you?" Matrix asked.

"I don’t know," Bob answered dejectedly. "That’s only one of the things that doesn’t make sense." He lifted his head and met Matrix’s eye. "But I know what I saw."

AndrAIa caught the expression that flitted across Dot’s face, and she elbowed Matrix in the ribs. "Later," she murmured.

They let the subject drop. The rest of the meal was unusually quiet.

* * *

Someone was knocking on the door of the apartment. "Will you get it, Enzo? My hands are wet," AndrAIa called from the kitchen.

"Who’d come here at this hour?" Matrix asked no one in particular as he got up off the floor. He stepped over the pieces of AndrAIa’s trident and a pile of filthy rags that he had been using to clean the trident and his gun. The sprite picked up his now-spotless weapon, and slammed the power cell into it as he moved to answer the door.

Dot took an involuntary step back as the door opened and she found herself looking down the barrel of her brother’s gun. Then she recovered and said archly, "Don’t you think that would be taking sibling rivalry just a bit too far?"

Matrix lowered his gun and grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, Sis. Old habit."

"You used to suck your thumb, too, but you grew out of it." Dot put her hands on her hips. "Are you going to let me in or should I organize a siege?"

Matrix blushed, and stood aside.

Dot’s demeanor changed as soon as the door closed behind her. "I need to talk to you, Enzo."

"About Bob?" Matrix guessed. He holstered his gun and looked around the room. "Sorry about the mess."

"It’s all right." Dot looked up at Matrix and made an attempt at humor. "Your bedroom was worse."

"Is that Dot?" AndrAIa stuck her head out of the kitchen. "Hello, Dot. Would you like a snack? We’ve got some chips and coffee."

"A cup of coffee, if it’s not too much trouble," Dot murmured. She stepped over the mess on the floor and seated herself on the couch.

Matrix grabbed the rags and hurriedly tossed them into a corner out of his sister’s line of sight. He picked up the pieces of AndrAIa’s trident and laid them in a neat row on the coffee table. Then he wiped his hands on his pants and sat down beside Dot. "What’s wrong, Dot?"

"You saw the limping."

"Yeah," Matrix answered. "What happened?"

"A Game. The User got him with a sword."

"The User? Bob?" AndrAIa asked as she came out of the kitchen.

"I know. Bob wouldn’t let that kind of thing happen unless he got distracted. That’s why I want to believe him. That he really saw Enzo. But…" Dot trailed off.

"You can’t let your personal feelings get in the way of your professional judgement," AndrAIa finished as she handed a large mug to Dot. "Is there any evidence to back up what he says?"

"A security camera caught a glimpse of a moving shadow a few nights ago," Dot said quietly. "We’ve tried enhancing it, but there just isn’t enough there to be sure of anything. Bob thinks…Bob thinks…"

"Bob thinks it’s Enzo," Matrix said flatly.

"But Enzo wouldn’t steal," AndrAIa said. She looked at the coffee table, then reassembled her trident with a sure touch and retracted it before seating herself on the table across from Dot.

"He might," Matrix contradicted. "He might." He avoided AndrAIa’s eyes and asked his sister, "Did Bob see anyone else in the Game?"

"No," Dot answered. Her eyes widened. "That means—"

"If it is Enzo, then he and Bo got split up somehow," Matrix stated. "Something went wrong."

"But we’ve got no proof of anything, do we?" AndrAIa asked. "All we have is something Bob might or might not have seen, and a string of petty thefts. There’s no reason to assume there’s a connection, is there?"

"No," Dot responded, "I wouldn’t think so. But Bob wouldn’t lie, either. So, either something was in the Game, and he thought it was Enzo, or Enzo really was in the Game and is hiding, or Bob is…" She trailed off.

"I’m sure that something was there." AndrAIa said. "I’m just not sure it was Enzo."

"There’s only one way to find out," Matrix said. He rose from the couch. "We have to find whatever Bob saw, and if necessary," he pulled his gun, "take care of it."

* * *

The table was covered with police reports. Bob muttered to himself as he put one down, and picked up another. Dot’s Diner was unusually quiet—the afternoon rush had slowed to a trickle. There were a few determined regulars perched at the far end of the counter, and even fewer couples in the booths. All of them kept a nervous eye on the Guardian, who’d been sipping shakes and talking to himself for nearly two microseconds.

The Mainframers’ courage evaporated when Matrix shoved open the doors. They stared at the burly sprite, some focused on the gun on his hip and others on the bright yellow Guardian icon on his chest.

Matrix met the eyes with a glare, then took three strides and dropped onto the bench opposite Bob.

Cecil, obviously annoyed, approached the table and asked stiffly, "Sir, may I recommend our carry-out menu?"

"No. I’m here to talk to Bob." Matrix folded his arms and stuck his long legs out into the aisle.

Cecil threw up his hands. "Perhaps you should consider Madame your sister, Guardian! Between the two of you, this establishment will go out of business!" Cecil scooted away to prepare the checks now being demanded at every table.

Without looking up, Bob said, "You know, you really have to work on your social skills."

"They’ll get over it," Matrix answered.

Bob gave Matrix a reproachful look. "Not if you keep reinforcing their fear of Guardians every chance you get."

"They’d be afraid anyway," Matrix shrugged.

"Matrix, I—wait." Bob abruptly sat up, shifting to keep his still-bandaged leg from sliding off the bench beside him. "Watch this." He opened a vid window, then called up a file. "It ran a couple of cycles ago."

The file started, and Mike the TV appeared on the screen. The TV personality waved his microphone dramatically as he boomed, "Coming up next! Misunderstood hero, or fanatical remnant of a crazed conspiracy? You, the viewers, decide." The scene cut, and Mike was standing in a street, interviewing a mother holding a baby. "Tell us, in your own words, what you think about these latest reports of Guardian Bob hallucinating."

"Well," the ponytailed binome hesitated. "Bob protected us, back before Megabyte took over. But then he gave his protocol to that little boy, and disappeared into the Web. He just hasn’t been the same since he came back. And now all the Guardians but Bob have been infected and gone random," she hitched the child a little higher on her hip, "you just have to wonder, you know?"

Mike, obviously very excited, urged her on. "Are you saying you believe Bob is responsible for the infection of every Guardian in the Net?"

The young mother, taken aback, gave the camera a frightened glance, then murmured, "I’m just saying it’s strange, that’s all." Her baby started to fuss, and she shifted the child to her other arm and said hastily, "I’ve got to get home, it’s naptime."

Mike, undaunted, looked straight into the camera and cried, "At last, a real story! For more, we go to CGI agent Fax Modem, who has a very persuasive theory."

The scene cut again, and the sleepy-eyed CGI agent appeared. "I think Bob is behind the Daemon infection. I don’t think he was ever in the Web."

Mike’s voice cut in, full of hushed expectation. "And what evidence do you have to support your theory?"

Modem’s partner, Data Nully, shoved her way into the frame. "None whatsoever, Mike. Modem’s come up with another wild conspiracy theory, that’s all."

"But this time he might be right!" Mike hurriedly told the viewers. Someone offscreen grabbed Nully and pulled her out of the frame. A low voice said, "Sorry, sister, nothing personal. I’m just trying to get a story here." Mike immediately switched back to his high-energy announcer voice. "Agent Modem, tell us what you’re basing your theory on."

Modem, as usual, sounded like he had a bad sore throat and a hangover. "His scars. They’re on the sides of his face. Just like the infection. That can’t be just a coincidence." He ran one hand down the side of his head. "Bob would have degraded if he was in the Web all that time. I think he was in league with Megabyte, and it just looked like Bob was shot into the Web."

"Where was Bob, if he wasn’t in the Web?"

"He was perfecting his virus in secret. It must have escaped once, and infected him before he could contain it. It left those scars."

"What about Enzo Matrix’s story of finding Bob among the Web Riders?"

"There are no Web Riders. That’s just a cover story. The sprite calling himself Enzo Matrix is really a highly sophisticated drone controlled by Bob."

"Captain Capacitor, Mouse, Ray Tracer, and AndrAIa all corroborate Matrix’s story. How do you explain that?"

"They’re all drones."

"And all of this is the work of one twisted mind?"

"Not originally. Bob came to Mainframe as a part of a much larger conspiracy designed to take over the whole Net. He must have had a falling-out with them, and he decided to infect the entire Guardian Collective in revenge."

The camera wobbled as someone grabbed it. Mike dragged the lens back toward himself and exclaimed, "So there you have it! Which side do you believe? Are we protected by the last uninfected Guardians still processing, or do we have a raving lunatic walking among us? You, the viewers, decide!" The file ended.

The vidwindow shattered as Matrix’s fist slammed through it. The intelligible parts of his next several sentences were highly profane.

Cecil, who had been disconsolately mopping the spotless counter, fled into the kitchen.

Bob had taken cover almost as fast as Matrix had punched. He waited until Matrix ran out of curses, then poked his head up from under the table. "Are you finished yet? Or should I stay down here a while longer?"

Matrix’s right eye glowed red for a moment, then whirred and faded back to golden quiescence. "Sorry, Bob. I guess I got carried away."

"You guess?" Bob pulled himself back onto the bench.

"How could anyone believe that stuff about you, Bob?" Matrix shook his head. "Everyone knows Fax Modem needs to have his head scanned."

"He’s got a point, though," Bob said. "If I hadn’t lived through it myself, I wouldn’t believe what’s happened in the past few seconds."

"No one doubted us when we were fighting Megabyte," Matrix growled.

"Things change, Matrix. You and I changed, Mainframe changed, the whole Net has changed. We can’t stop it, but we can try and make sure the change is for the better." Bob tossed a data pad across the table to Matrix. "Are you with me?"

Matrix caught the pad with both hands, then looked up at Bob. "Yeah." He waved the pad at Bob. "So, what is all this?"

"The reports from the petty theft spree in Mainframe. I know there’s a pattern. I just haven’t spotted it yet." Bob propped his elbows on the table and rubbed his temples. "So far all I know for sure is that the thief has a terrible diet."

"That would be about right, if it was Enzo."

Bob shook his head. "I don’t want to believe that, Matrix." He slammed his left hand down on the table and rubbed his eyes with the right. "I don’t want to believe that," he repeated.

"Believe it. There was a time when I might have done the same thing."

"But you didn’t."

"I had AndrAIa," Matrix answered quietly. "Enzo didn’t." He folded his arms across his chest and said in a neutral tone, "It might be Bo, you know. He was always scared of Guardians."

"I’ve thought of that," Bob said wearily. "I’ve also thought that I’m getting as bad as Modem, seeing connections where none exist and twisting the facts to fit my theory."

"These burglaries aren’t imaginary," Matrix said.

"What do you make of this, then?" Bob tossed another data pad across the table. "How do we catch this thief, whoever he is?"

Matrix scanned the list. "Huh. That’s strange."

"What’s strange?"

Matrix glanced up at Bob. "Dot only owns one of these businesses."

Bob’s eyebrows shot up. "That is strange. Dot’s got at least a controlling interest in most of the city…" His eyes narrowed. "And there aren’t many sprites who would know—"

"Or care," Matrix finished.

"When did Dot buy out Chez Inwap?" Bob demanded.

"Just about the same time Hex reopened the Twin City."

"Which was well after Enzo left. Matrix, you’re a genius." Bob scrambled to his feet and limped toward the door.

"Bob!" Matrix followed his mentor into the street. "Where are you going?"

"To see Dot. Are you coming?"

* * *

Bob and Matrix raced through the Command Control room to Dot’s office. Bob rang the bell and waited precisely one nano before overriding the lock with a touch. He started talking before the door opened. "Dot, I need to talk to you. Matrix and I--" he stopped short as it registered on him that Dot wasn’t alone.

Phong, Specky, and an assortment of well-dressed binomes crowded the room. Dot, dressed in her most formal business suit and standing in front of a vidwindow diagram, slowly put her organizer down on her desk, and spoke in an even, patient tone. "What is it, Bob?

"I—We figured out the pattern in those burglaries. It’s right here," Bob said after a moment’s hesitation. "It’s been staring us right in the face the whole time. Matrix pointed it out to me. With the exception of Chez Inwap, every place the thief has hit is one of the few that you don’t own." Bob hurried on. "And Chez Inwap fits the pattern, because you didn’t buy them out until after Enzo left, so he wouldn't know you’re a silent partner." Bob took a deep breath. "I’d like to stake out a possible target tonight, if you can get the owner to agree. Matrix can cover another one, and Hack and Slash can take a third."

Dot just looked at Bob for a long moment, her mouth half-open. Then she turned her face away and nodded. "Fine, Bob," she said curtly. "Do it. Do whatever you want."

"Dot, I—"

"I’ve got work to do, Bob. I’ll see you later." She turned toward the wall, leaning her head on her clenched fist.

Bob’s face was full of hurt, but none of it leaked into his voice. "Thanks, Dot. I owe you one." He turned and left, moving with the deliberate care of a very tired old man.

Matrix, standing in the doorway, moved aside to let Bob pass, then glanced at his sister.

Dot didn’t turn as Bob left. She stayed against the wall, her body rigid and her breathing forcibly controlled.

Matrix crossed the floor in silence, and put his hand on his sister’s shoulder. She turned her head just enough to acknowledge the touch, then sagged against the wall.

Phong spoke up, his voice low and soothing. "Perhaps we should continue this discussion another day." He gestured to Specky. "The lieutenant will happily help coordinate everyone’s schedule."

Specky opened his mouth as the group converged on him.

Phong interrupted before the bespectacled binome could protest. "Certainly the process will go much faster out in the Control Room. You can use the command console to help you find a suitable time." He herded everyone but Matrix and Dot out of the room, then rolled out himself before turning and thrumming, "Faith is the truth one knows with the heart, my children, and friends are the ones who carry that truth." He closed the door.

Dot turned and wrapped her arms tightly around her brother. "What am I going to do, Enzo? If Bob is wrong, and he really is losing his mind—" she broke off. "But if he’s right, then I’ll have to throw our little brother in jail. I can’t do it, Enzo! I can’t have Bob committed, and I can’t order the CPUs to hunt down my baby brother."

"He’s probably not a baby anymore, Dot," Matrix told her gently. "He hasn’t been gone as long as AndrAIa and I were, but—"

"And where’s Bo? If Bob is right, then what happened to Bo? What if--?" She bit her lip.

"We’ll ask Enzo when we find him, Dot."

* * *

Bob looked around the darkened store. Most of its stock was vegetables, grown without enhancements. "Like Enzo would break into a health food store," Bob mused wryly. He opened a vid window to Matrix. "How are you doing?"

Matrix glowered into the window. "Nothing yet."

"Oh, okay." Bob tried to smile.

"Bob, if you keep checking on all of us, you’re going to miss the burglar. I’ll call you in the morning, OK?"

"Yeah." Bob shut down the vid window. He looked quickly around the shop again, then opened another vid window. "Hack, Slash?"

"Hack and Slash, reporting," Hack said.

"Slash and Hack," Slash added.

"I just said that."

"No you didn’t. You said ‘Hack and Slash’. I said ‘Slash and Hack’."

"Guys," Bob said, "it doesn’t matter. Have you seen anything?"

"Yes."

"We saw a Null."

"It bit me."

"Yeah, it bit him."

"Then it slithered behind the counter."

"Right over there."

"Over there."

"That’s against health regulations, isn’t it?"

"I don’t want to eat anything that’s been touched by a Null."

Bob interrupted again. "Did you see any sprites?"

"No sir."

"No sprites."

"None at all."

"Nobody."

"Unless you count Bob."

"Oh, yes. We did see Bob."

"Okay boys," Bob interrupted again, "If you see anyone else, vidwindow me. Okay?"

"Yes sir."

"Absolutely."

"Definitely."

Bob chuckled as he cut the transmission.

* * *

AndrAIa, riding an enormous motorcycle, arrived early the next morning to give Bob a lift home. Hack and Slash trailed the roaring bike, and Matrix skimmed alongside it on his zipboard.

"That was a boring night," Hack commented.

"Yes, very boring indeed," Slask agreed.

"I haven’t been so bored since—"

Bob awkwardly scrambled onto the back of the motorcycle. "Okay, okay, so the stakeout failed. We’ll keep staking out places that haven’t been hit, until he shows up at one of them."

"Bob," AndrAIa said, turning in her seat, "there was a theft last night. The thief broke into Mother Board’s Bakery again. I saw it on the early news."

Bob’s face fell. "All right, delete that idea, then. We’ll have to figure out where he’s hiding out. He must have some sort of home base, right?"

"Actually, I’d like to try a different tactic," Matrix said. He yawned. "But not today. Tomorrow, maybe. If the thief was up all night breaking into Mother Board’s last night, he probably won’t come out today, anyway."

"What’s your plan?" Bob asked.

"It’s just a hunch I came up with last night," Matrix shrugged. "It should give us some evidence, at least."

* * *

Matrix sat on the grass in Floating Point Park, staring out to the Data Sea. His legs were bent up in front of him, and his elbows rested on his knees. He had been sitting there with his back to the seawall since dawn. He had been so uncharacteristically still and quiet that most of the patrons of the park hadn’t even noticed him. Those who had had given him a wide berth, but if Matrix had noticed, he hadn’t given any sign. His eyes narrowed as the sky changed color, announcing the oncoming night, but other than that he didn’t move.

Late afternoon gave way to early evening. Matrix still waited, ignoring the chill of the night air on his bare arms.

* * *

"Any luck?"

Matrix glanced up. AndrAIa, wrapped in a long black coat, stood on the seawall above him. Frisket stood beside AndrAIa, whining softly. Matrix’s face creased, and he shook his head. He rose, his joints popping as they moved for the first time in microseconds.

"I brought your jacket," AndrAIa said gently. "Want some company?" She bent and put one hand on the wall, preparing to jump down.

Still without speaking, Matrix caught AndrAIa around the waist and lifted her down, setting her gently on her feet. He shrugged into his heavy waist-length coat, then put his arms around AndrAIa and held her for a moment. Frisket, catching the mood, lay down along the seawall and put his head on his paws.

Finally, Matrix spoke, his voice even rougher than usual from a day of disuse. "I thought he’d come. If it was Enzo, he’d have come here."

AndrAIa sighed deeply. "Bob’s convinced he’s in Mainframe."

"I know." Matrix released AndrAIa and turned to look back out over the sea.

"Did Bob come by? He said he’d bring you lunch."

"Yeah." Matrix allowed AndrAIa to pull him to the seawall. "He said he was going to keep looking until he found Enzo. But--" Matrix broke off. "I know Bob wouldn’t lie, but I’m beginning to wonder..." He stopped.

"Wonder if he really did see Enzo." AndrAIa finished. "Wondering if maybe the pattern of the burglaries is just a coincidence. Wondering if maybe Bob is a little bit crazy."

"Yeah." Matrix’s shoulders slumped.

"Enzo, it’s okay. Bob knows it’s hard to believe. That’s why he’s trying so hard to find out what he saw." AndrAIa took Matrix by the arm. "Let’s go home." She started to pull him away. "Come on, Sparky." She vaulted gracefully to the top of the seawall, then turned and held out her hand toward Matrix.

Matrix looked up at her for a moment, then scrambled up the wall. Frisket got to his feet and yawned.

AndrAIa put her arm around Matrix’s waist. "I’m cold. Let’s get in out of this night air."

Frisket watched the two of them walk off into the darkness, then whuffed through his nose, and trotted off toward Mr. Pearson’s junkyard.

* * *

Elsewhere in the city, a very tired sprite opened the door to his apartment.

"How was your day?" Dot stood and walked over to greet Bob.

Bob bent down and kissed Dot, then said, "It was all right. No luck though." He glanced toward the TV, which was showing commercials. "What are you watching?"

"Just the evening news."

"Anything interesting?" Bob limped painfully over to the couch and eased himself down, favoring his half-healed leg.

"Not yet," Dot answered.

The dancing color of a commercial gave way to Mike the TV, standing on a street corner and wearing his most earnest expression. "And now, an exclusive follow-up report. I’m here in downtown Mainframe to ask the binome-on-the-street about the burning questions that YOU need answered. Has the Guardian Bob really lost his mind, or is he on the edge of a major breakthrough? How will--" Mike asked. Before Mike could continue, someone grabbed the microphone out of his hand. "Hey, you can’t do that!" Mike protested. His voice, however, faded as the interloper took over.

Sheriff Gunderson patted her hat a little further back on her head, then launched into a speech. "Well now, the Guardian’s story seems pretty farfetched, and everybody knows you can’t trust a Guardian these days." She waved the golden statue she always carried with one hand while supporting the microphone with the other. "But on the other hand he is blue you know. Not like that big Matrix boy. He’s downright dangerous, that one. It’s only because he’s Miss Matrix’s brother that he’s allowed to carry that gun, oh ya for sure."

Dot reached for the remote, but Bob pulled her back. "Don’t, Dot. I want to hear this."

The talkative sheriff went on. "And we have to consider the safety of our Command.com, too, you know. I mean what if one of those crazy Guardians catches the infection, and passes it on to Miss Matrix? Why the whole city will grind to a halt, you betcha. We just can’t afford to take that kind of risk."

Mike finally managed to catch the microphone as Sheriff Gunderson swung it around in an expansive gesture. The loudmouthed reporter hurriedly said, "Yes, thank you very much. And now we’ll turn to another ordinary citizen, and ask his opinion! You sir! What do you think of the recent controversy over the Guardian Bob?"

The camera panned over to a zero binome wearing a hat that said "Toque" on it. He blushed, then waved. "Hi, Mom!"

"Do you think the Guardian has gone random?" Mike pressed.

"Huh?" Toque glanced toward the reporter. "Oh, right. The Guardian. Our protector!" The binome jumped up and down, gleefully waving his hands.

"Thank you," Mike said drily. "Let’s see what else Mainframe has to say."

Mike’s next interviewee was a bit more ambivalent. "Well, Bob’s been rushing about an awful lot lately. Seems like wherever he is, he thinks he’s got to be somewhere else. But Bob’s always been like that, hasn’t he? Even back before he got shot into the Web, he was running around on a zipboard, breaking the speed limits, upsetting everybody. It’s just part of having a Guardian, I suppose. You get protection from viruses and Games, but every now and then he causes more trouble than he prevents."

"But what about Agent Fax Modem’s theory? What if Bob really is a scheming power-hungry maniac?" Mike’s voice rose to a treble shriek of delighted horror.

The binome rolled her eye and put her hands on her hips. "Isn’t Fax Modem the one who started that rumor about Phong trading the position of Command.com to Dot in exchange for a kiss and a lifetime supply of cocoa mix?"

Mike hurriedly turned back to the camera. "There you have it! The people of Mainframe are divided about the Guardian. Is he our protector, or is he a random menace? You, the viewers decide!"

Dot picked up the remote and turned the TV off. "Definitely our protector," she murmured as she leaned on Bob’s shoulder.

"Thanks, Dot. I know this has been hard on you—" He stopped, and stared at the remote in Dot’s hand. "Where did you get that?"

"I don’t know." Dot looked at the remote. "I was tidying up this afternoon and found it under a pair of your old boots. It’s programmable, so I set it to work the TV."

"And the stereo!" the remote chirped. It waved a pair of tiny hands at the two sprites. "Don’t forget the stereo!"

"That’s Mike’s remote! You found it!" Bob took the remote and cradled it in his hands. It warbled happily.

"Really?" Dot looked at the remote. "Wow, it’s been here all along."

Bob grinned at her. "So, what else did you do today?"

* * *

The next morning, Matrix and AndrAIa’s leisurely breakfast was interrupted by a vidwindow. "I’ll thank ye to get your mangy beast off my property!" Mr. Pearson greeted them.

Matrix rolled his eyes. "I’ve told you, he’s not my dog. He’s feral."

"If he listens to you, he’s your dog. Now come and get him before I call the authorities!" Mr. Pearson waved what appeared to be one end of a sawed-off Gibson coil warningly.

"All right, all right, calm down. I’m coming." Matrix closed the vidwindow and rose from the table. "Never a dull moment, huh?"

AndrAIa grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him down for a kiss. "I like it that way," she told him.

Matrix grinned. "Me, too."

* * *

Matrix found Frisket under a burned-out CPU in Mr. Pearson’s junkyard. "Hey, boy, how ya doing?" the big sprite asked.

Frisket, flat on his side under the car, growled halfheartedly and burped.

"Long night, huh?" Matrix plopped himself down beside the fender of the car.

A whine.

"OK, OK. I won’t ask. Listen, as soon as you’re feeling better, I need your help."

Frisket slid his head out from under the car, his ears lifted in interest.

"I want you to help me find Enzo."

The dog’s ears fell, and he whined again in confusion.

* * *

The system voice interrupted the smooth operations of the control room. "Warning: Incoming Game. Warning: Incoming Game."

"Get the Game monitors online!" Specky ordered, rushing to the command console. "Find out where the Game will land! We have to clear the sector!"

Dot burst out of her office at a run. "Stats!" She reached over the heads of her staff and pressed keys with the speed of long practice. "Call—Oh no. Call Matrix and tell him to get AndrAIa and get to—" she glanced at the displays "—Baudway. Where’s Bob? I don’t want him taking on a Game. Not in his condition."

Behind Dot’s back, a few of her staff exchanged worried glances.

"Scanning." Specky frantically scrolled through the readouts on his screen. "Matrix and AndrAIa are in place. But there’s no sign of Bob. As far as I can tell, he’s not even in the system."

Dot’s face fell. "He’s there then. He’s using a hidden file command or something." She sighed, and looked up at the vidwindows springing into existence, showing the dropping Game from every angle, but no sign of Bob. "We won’t find him unless he wants to be found.

"Game cube has landed." Specky reported.

"Well, all we can do now is wait." Dot picked up her organizer. "Give me the readings please." Her eyebrows rose as the data popped up on the miniature screen. "Four?"

* * *

The momentary light of two ReBooting sprites faded. AndrAIa vaulted into the control chair and began tapping keys as Matrix swayed and dropped to a crouch, his hand to the Game implants half-hidden under his shaggy hair.

"Confirming disconnect from central computer—now." AndrAIa hit one last key, and turned to Matrix. "You should have independent control now."

"I do." Matrix closed his right eye and took a deep breath. "Visual implant offline." He rose. "Command line: Tracking." He glanced around, his eye glowing red. "I hate Starship Alcatraz."

"I doubt whoever designed it realized it would cause brainware interference," AndrAIa said in a brisk tone. "At least you’re not totally blind." She powered the chair up to the security monitors. "Shall we get this over with?"

Matrix sighed. "Yeah." He looked up at AndrAIa, and grinned. "You know, you look beautiful in crosshairs."

"Is that a compliment or an insult?" she shot back.

"Would I insult you?"

"If you thought you could get away with it."

Their bantering ended as the lights went out. "Main power disengaged," the Game announced calmly.

"Wonderful," Matrix growled in the darkness.

"I’m on it," AndrAIa answered. "The User’s on the fourth level and moving fast. Get going. I’ll try and get some auxiliary power online."

"Yes, ma’am. Command line: Infrared tracking." There was a buzz and a click, then the sound of Matrix moving in the darkness. "Keep me posted, AndrAIa."

* * *

Well above the control room floor, Bob backed carefully away from the catwalk railing and muttered, "Why is it that couples always get off to a bad start in this Game?" He turned to the emergency-access ladder behind him, and started climbing.

* * *

The elevator wasn’t big enough to pace in, so Matrix settled for swaying back and forth with the rhythm of the elevator music. The elevator stopped, and a pair of Game sprites charged the door as it opened. An instant later they were both floating in stasis bubbles. "Hey, there are worse things than getting shot by a bubble gun," Matrix told the recaptured prisoners as he shouldered the bubbles out of the way.

AndrAIa broke in, her voice strangely resonant in the plug in Matrix’s ear. "Matrix, the User is two levels above you, and he’s headed forward. I think he’s trying to get to the shuttle dock rather than the escape pods."

"He’s going for the big win, huh?" Matrix rounded a corner and put his back to a wall, scanning the corridor while catching his breath. "That should make it easier."

"If I can get the main power back on. None of the booby traps will work without energy."

"Don’t worry. I work just fine." Matrix casually picked off a few Game sprites, and headed back toward the elevator.

"Use the other elevator. There are fewer Game sprites in your way. I’ll try to keep the User busy."

As Matrix changed direction, AndrAIa moved the chair to look at another monitor. She grinned wolfishly, and hit a few keys.

The User jumped up the stairs with the tireless energy of an automaton, the snarling grin on its painted face ghoulish in the bobbing light of its flashlight. It reached a landing and started up the next flight of stairs, only to be confronted by a vidwindow. "Watch your step," AndrAIa mockingly cautioned the User. The stairs abruptly dropped. The User fell forward, grabbing for the railing. It got a good grip on the railing, then was abruptly dragged off the ramp-staircase and thrown head over heels as the railings fell outward. The User tumbled and bounced down several flights, finally coming to rest in a sprawl of arms and legs on a landing some three levels below where it started.

AndrAIa’s vidwindow reappeared. "Don’t you just hate it when that happens?" she said sweetly.

* * *

Bob slipped down the corridor, apparently unhampered by the on-again, off-again power. He paused and lifted his head, eyes narrowing. A security camera was slowly turning toward him. "Sorry, AndrAIa, but I don’t have time to explain myself to you." He crossed the corridor, and reached up to touch the base of the camera. His fingers glowed with a golden light for a moment, then the camera buzzed angrily and ground to a halt.

A few stasis bubbles, each occupied by a flailing Game sprite, drifted by, and Bob politely stood aside. "The traffic around here is just terrible." He leaned against the wall and cupped his hands. "How many Guardians does it take to find one sprite?" he murmured as a schematic sketched itself in the air above his hands. Dozens of moving points of light moved through the softly shining map of the prison ship. Only two of them showed the pale blue of a system sprite. The User’s red dot was charging through the generator room on Level Eight. Wandering all over the map were Game sprites, marked in yellow. Bob sighed. "I should have known it wouldn’t be that easy."

* * *

AndrAIa leaned forward to look closer at the monitor. "What the..?" She reached, and a control pad obligingly floated up beneath her outstretched hand. "Enzo, we’ve got a problem."

"No kidding. I’m working on it." Matrix’s voice sounded a bit harried, and AndrAIa could hear the sound of his bubble gun firing.

"I just lost a security camera on Level Three."

"So? Any one of the Game sprites could have taken it out." The sound of gunfire was replaced by pounding footsteps.

"Not unless they could do it from inside a bubble. According to my readings, there shouldn’t be any activity in that corridor." She scanned her control boards. "From what I can see, you and I are the only system sprites in the Game."

There was a loud thud and a grunt in answer. "What’s your point, AndrAIa?"

"Is there any chance Bob made it into the Game?"

"Sure there’s a chance. He’s a full Guardian. Open the doors on Level Seven for me, will you?"

"Inputting commands." AndrAIa’s fingers flew across a series of keyboards.

"The User’s getting away, AndrAIa! Hurry up!"

"I’m working as fast as I can, but it’s been a while since I memorized those Turbodata commands. As long as you’re standing there, why don’t you give me the codes for the secondary auxiliary power units? I’m drawing a blank."

"Forget the auxiliary power. Just get the main generators back online and get these doors open!"

"Sending commands. Now for the—oh." AndrAIa sounded crestfallen. "The User just destroyed the primary generators."

"I guess we can forget about reactivating the power, then."

"Enzo, what if Bob really is here? What do you think he’s doing?"

"The same thing he’s been doing for the past decacycle."

"But why would Bob look for Enzo in a Game, if he thinks Enzo’s already in Mainframe? And why would he hide from us?"

"I don’t know, AndrAIa," Matrix answered shortly. "Let’s just worry about winning this Game."

* * *

Bob reached the top of the maintenance ladder and scrambled into the crawlway above Level Nine. He paused to catch his breath and consult his map.

The red light of the User and the blue one of Matrix were both more or less stationary in a weapons locker on the level above Bob. "That should keep them busy for a while," Bob commented. "Now to find a communications hub." He got to his hands and knees and crawled, gritting his teeth against the pain in his right leg.

* * *

Matrix ducked as an explosive shell shot over his head. "What’s that kind of weaponry doing on a prison ship, anyway?" he demanded of AndrAIa as he dove for better cover.

"I don’t know, I’m not the twisted creature who makes these things up!"

"Do something, will you? He’s gonna hit a weapons crate sooner or later. At least get the lights on!"

"I’m trying, Matrix, but the surge when the generators blew took out most of the circuits in your sector. I can’t do anything about that!"

"Then think of something! I--" Matrix’s voice was drowned out by the sound of an explosion and tearing metal.

"Enzo!" The security cameras jerked, and scanned the room. "Matrix! Are you all right?"

A groan.

"Matrix! Where are you?" The cameras panned toward the back wall. "Are you all right?" AndrAIa asked again.

Matrix’s voice was strained. "I’ve been better."

"What happened?"

"The User decided to make himself a new door." Matrix rose from beneath a pile of debris, and quickly closed his eye. "AndrAIa, there’s too much residual heat. I can’t see a thing."

"Are you hurt?"

"Cuts and bruises. I’ve had worse. Talk me to the door, AndrAIa. If the User gets too far ahead of me—"

"I’ve got a team of maintenance robots moving some of the prisoners you bubbled into position as roadblocks. We’ve got a little time."

"I thought you couldn’t do anything without the main power. Not even turn on the lights."

"The robots run on batteries, and I’m routing energy from the third set of auxiliaries to electrify the floors up there and run a few of the traps."

"Of course. How could I forget the auxiliaries?" Matrix bent, and rummaged around the mess at his feet.

"What are you doing now?"

"You think I’m going to take on a rocket launcher with a bubble gun?" Matrix, eye still tightly shut, got down on his hands and knees, patting the floor as he advanced slowly toward the ragged hole in the wall.

The security cameras followed the blinded sprite as he moved. "There’s a crate on fire on your left," AndrAIa warned.

"Is that what that smell is?" Matrix moved away from the burning debris.

"I’m activating fire extinguishers. Get your head down." A series of nozzles popped out of tiny holes on the ceiling, and hissed noisily.

Matrix tucked himself into a ball as the nozzles sprayed thick white foam in every direction.

AndrAIa’s voice crackled in Matrix’s ear plug. "OK, the fires are out. I can’t see you, though—there’s foam on the cameras."

"Just tell me where the User is," Matrix growled as he raked foam out of his hair. "It’s payback time."

* * *

Bob broke contact with the network hub. "Bad idea, User. Now you’ve made him mad." The Guardian reached back into the tangle of wiring that surrounded the network hub. "Now which channel is carrying the feed from those cameras?"

* * *

Matrix pelted down the corridor, armed with a bubble gun in each hand and a pulse rifle slung across his back. "AndrAIa! Lock down Red Sector of Level Twelve!"

"It’s not slowing him down, Matrix! He’s got the executive access key!"

Matrix bubbled a few stray Game sprites, and bellowed into his microphone. "Then blow the sector! We’re running out of options!"

"But—"

"Do it, AndrAIa!" Matrix threw himself into a tiny alcove and slammed a pressure door closed behind him. "I’m secure!"

"Warning," the dispassionate Game voice said. "Purging Twelve-Red to vacuum. Warning." It repeated itself mindlessly.

"Squealer," Matrix grumbled. He leaned against the wall of the tiny closet and listened to the air howling through the corridor outside. As the sound died to a whisper, Matrix sighed and spoke into his microphone. "I guess we didn’t get him, huh?"

"He got to the exosuit lock. He’s walking around on the hull."

"Perfect. Just perfect."

"I’m repressurizing, but it’ll take a few nanos."

"How far is the User from the shuttle?"

"Not far enough." AndrAIa sounded preoccupied. "Find something to hold on to, Matrix." A soft whine thrummed through the ship.

"What for?"

"Because I’m going to fire the main engines, and you’re always grumpy when you’ve got a concussion," AndrAIa answered matter-of-factly. "The engines are almost fully charged. Should I send you an ice bag now or later?"

Matrix slid down to the floor, and braced himself as best he could, propping his feet against one wall and his back against the other. "Which way are we going?"

"Forward, I hope." The whine built to a scream, and the whole ship rattled.

"AndrAIa!" The enormous prison ship jerked, and Matrix yelped as he bit his tongue.

The Alcatraz rolled to the right, then slewed around hard before its massive engines kicked it into a drunken somersault. It came to rest at a ninety-degree angle from the plane it had started in.

Inside the ship, Matrix swallowed hard and opened his eye. "AndrAIa? Are you done?" His tone was almost plaintive.

"Some ride, huh?" AndrAIa’s voice wobbled. "The shuttle’s destroyed, anyway."

"And you call me a bad driver," Matrix answered.

"You’re not going to believe this," AndrAIa said in a disgusted tone.

"You’re kidding. No sprite could have survived that stunt on the outside of the ship!"

"The Game hasn’t left. The User’s still out there somewhere—wait. There he is. Climbing in through one of the shuttle access tubes. Matrix, he’s going to head for the escape pods."

"Tell me something I didn’t know."

* * *

Bob had weathered the maneuvers fairly well. There was nothing in the narrow crawlway except Bob’s jerry-rigged monitor and Bob himself, and there wasn’t room for either of them to move much. As soon as his eyeballs stopped rolling and gravity returned to its normal habits, Bob patiently went back to wiring a vidwindow into the security camera feed.

After several nanos and a few noisy sparks, Bob’s makeshift monitor came to life. "Finally," Bob muttered. He skipped impatiently from camera to camera, barely glancing at the image on the screen before switching to the next. "Come on, come on, I know you’re here somewhere." His hotwired vidwindow flickered from scene to scene. Matrix and AndrAIa’s voices murmured in the background.

* * *

The User used its access key to open a door, and darted through it, glancing over its shoulder.

Matrix slipped between the door and the wall as the door closed, tearing his battered red and blue uniform. "You’re not getting rid of me that easily, User."

The User whipped out a small pistol and fired, then keyed open another door on the far side of the room.

Matrix turned and caught the shot on one of his shoulder plates. "My turn," he rumbled. He unslung the rifle.

The User fled, firing behind itself with its arm bent at an unnatural angle.

Matrix ducked, then leaped across the room just in time to slam into the door at a dead run. He howled in pain and frustration. "AndrAIa! I need a shortcut!"

* * *

There wasn’t much light in the corridor, but it was enough. It cast the sprite sitting on the bunk in Cell 2-Green-101 into shadow, hiding any details of its identity. It sat, legs drawn up and elbows on its knees, with its head resting on its arms.

Bob stood looking at the solitary figure for a moment, then said softly, "Enzo?"

The sprite’s head came up with a gasp, and wide, startled eyes locked with Bob’s.

"Enzo," Bob breathed. "I’ve finally found you."

"Bob." The sprite hugged his knees closer, and withdrew a little further into the darkness. "Go away, Bob."

"Why?" Bob asked, stepping into the cell.

"Because this isn’t supposed to happen."

* * *

Matrix crouched down by the escape pods, hiding behind an engineering console. "What’s keeping him?" he asked in exasperation. "AndrAIa, what’s the User doing?"

"Warning. Self-destruct sequence initiated." The Game voice sounded bored.

"Does that answer your question?" AndrAIa asked.

"I’m really starting to dislike that guy," Matrix answered.

* * *

"So what are you doing here?" Bob asked quietly.

"Isn’t that obvious?" Enzo’s tone was harsh.

"No, not really," Bob snapped. "I don’t know why you didn’t come to the Principle Office right after the Game, why you’ve been robbing stores all over Mainframe, why you entered this Game, why you chose to hide out in here instead of trying to help win the Game, or--" his eyes widened "—why you’re in Game sprite mode when Matrix could win the Game any nano."

"None of this is my choice, Bob!" Enzo abruptly got to his feet and confronted Bob, letting the light fall on his face for the first time. "It was never my choice."

Bob’s eyes widened, and he lifted his fingers toward the lean face of the teenager in front of him.

Enzo jerked away, his violet eyes hard. "You can’t fix it, Bob. Not even the almighty Guardian can change the past."

* * *

The User, carrying the access card and its pistol, burst into the escape pod bay and ran for the nearest pod.

"Remember me?" a gruff voice asked. Matrix stepped across the door and grabbed the access key from the User as he kicked the User’s legs out from under it.

* * *

"Enzo—" Bob dropped his hand to his side. "I don’t understand, but I’m sure we can work this out. At least give Dot and me a chance."

"I can’t, Bob!"

"Why not? Are you afraid of what might happen?"

"No." Enzo pushed a hank of his hair back behind his right ear, exposing a scar that ran from just outside his eye to his chin. "I’m afraid of what I know will happen."

* * *

Matrix and the User rolled across the floor, locked in a no-holds-barred wrestling match. They bumped into the wall, and Matrix pinned the User against the wall with one knee and his left hand. "I’m gonna enjoy this," he told the struggling captive. He balled his right hand into a fist.

The access key went clattering across the floor.

* * *

Enzo’s eyes were bleak. "Daemon’s going to destroy Mainframe, Bob. Just like Megabyte did. Matrix fought Megabyte, I have to fight Daemon. But I’m not ready yet. I have to be bigger, tougher. Ready for Daemon." He sat back down on the bunk, and rubbed the back of his neck with both hands.

"If that’s the way you want it."

"I don’t have a choice, Bob."

"Yes, you do," Bob contradicted. "The future is not determined by a throw of the dice. It is determined by the conscious decisions of you and me."

"Where’d you find that, in a fortune cookie?"

"No, Dot said it. She said it was something Phong told her once."

"Yeah, well, tell Phong that it’s Matrix’s decisions that matter. Not mine."

"Matrix didn’t get a chance to make this decision." Bob’s eyes narrowed. "If you choose to live in the Games," Bob tapped his icon, "then I choose to go with you."

Enzo lifted his head and stared at Bob’s now-triangular icon. "You can’t do that!"

"I just did." Bob folded his arms. "Decide, Enzo. Either we go into the games, or we stay in Mainframe."

Enzo stared at the Guardian in horror.

* * *

"AndrAIa, how much time have we got?" Matrix skidded around a corner, clutching the access key in his left hand and his bubble gun in the right.

"Not enough for you to get down here!"

"Then here comes the key!" Matrix pounded into the central axis of the ship, and tossed the bright yellow key down the shaft. He hung over the railing, panting.

AndrAIa stood on the seat of her chair, watching the key fall in her monitors. She glanced up the shaft, and tensed.

"20 seconds until self-destruct," the Game voice announced.

"Why do we always cut these things so close, Enzo?" AndrAIa asked. She vaulted out of the chair, caught the key in midair, and landed on her feet. She darted to the console and shoved the key into its slot.

"Self destruct sequence deactivated," said the emotionless game voice, "Game Over."

* * *

"Commander! The game is leaving!" Specky cried.

Dot heaved an enormous sigh of relief. "Finally." She looked up at the monitors. "Is Bob there?"

"Dot!" AndrAIa’s vidwindow interrupted. "I think you should come down here."

"What’s wrong, AndrAIa?"

The Game sprite shook her head. "I think it’ll be easier to explain in person."

"On my way."

* * *

Dot skimmed over Baudway, surveying the barely-ordered confusion. Teams of paramedics scurried back and forth between a pair of ambulances. Both of the operating CPU squad cars were parked across the road, acting as roadblocks. On the edges of the mess, Mike the TV was hopping up and down as he argued with an equally agitated officer.

Dot rolled her eyes, then squared her shoulders and glided down to street level. "Is there a problem, Algernon?"

The green-uniformed officer started, then looked up at Dot. "Ms. Matrix, I—"

Mike took the opportunity to shove the officer aside. "Dot Matrix! As Command.com of Mainframe, what do you have to say about this recent turn of events?"

Dot glared at the reporter. "No comment," she said coolly. She turned to Algernon. "Captain, I want this area secured."

"Yes, ma’am! Come on, you." Algernon enthusiastically pushed Mike away from Dot.

"Now, can someone tell me—" Dot stopped, and blinked. The medics had frozen in their tracks, staring at her. One rattling young paramedic clutched a pair of fully-charged shock paddles, apparently unaware of the fact that his hair was standing on end.

Dot contained a smile. "Relax, people." Her brow creased as the binomes obeyed. "Now, where are AndrAIa and Matrix?"

"Back here, Dot," AndrAIa’s voice answered.

Dot hurried around to the rear of the second ambulance.

AndrAIa, with a thick blanket wrapped around her shoulders, was perched on the ambulance’s wide bumper. Matrix sat next to her, patiently tolerating the attention of three different paramedics. He held an ice pack against a rapidly swelling knot on his forehead.

"Enzo! Are you all right?" Dot pushed her way through the growing herd of medics.

"I’m fine. Just tired." Matrix winced as someone disinfected one of his cuts. "I hate Starship Alcatraz."

"The User’s getting good at that Game," AndrAIa explained.

"So what did you call me down here for?" Dot asked. Her face paled. "This is about Bob, isn’t it?"

"Sorta," Matrix answered. "Where’d he go, anyway?" He glanced around, his eye a bit unfocused.

"I’m right here," Bob’s voice answered.

"Bob! What did you think you were doing, going into a Game—" Dot’s scolding abruptly ceased as her eyes fell on the sprite standing beside Bob. "Enzo?"

"Dot." The voice was wary, almost shy. "Hi, Sis."

Dot stared. The sprite now identified as her younger brother looked to be about sixteen. He wore an oversized gray shirt and battered camouflage pants, anchored by a belt that also supported a knife in a holster. One of his scuffed black boots had no laces. A few hanks of dark green hair had escaped his ponytail and hung in his face, almost hiding the scar that sliced through Enzo’s shadow of a beard. Wiry muscle jumped in his bare arms, and his lips twitched between scowl and smile.

Bob put his hand on Enzo’s shoulder. The younger sprite glanced up at the Guardian, then over Dot’s shoulder to Matrix, and finally to Dot’s face.

Dot met Bob’s eyes for one long moment, then turned back to Enzo and stepped forward. She put her arms around her brother and hugged him, hard. "Welcome home, Enzo," she whispered. "Welcome home."

END