font size=6center The Daemon Conflict:p

CHAPTER 8

UNDERLINGS

AndrAIa didn't know what it felt like to be sick. She had always been strong and healthy and able to take on any challenge. That changed the day she was bitten by the web creature. She remembered little about that past episode and when she finally regained consciousness to find herself in a strange place, she remembered even less about this current one.

Her mouth was horribly dry and tasted even worse. She felt feverish, she knew that much, and had an ache in her side that she knew was her injury possibly festering.

I must look a mess, she thought wryly.

She didn't try to get up immediately. Someone was in the room with her, or at least what she thought was a room. She knew she was lying on a hard cot with a blanket over her.

She frowned as she tried to extend her claws and it didn't feel right. Like they weren't as long as they should be.

AndrAIa inhaled deeply and opened her eyes, then closed them immediately as a bright light made them burn and water.

She felt whoever was with her approach the bed. "Hey," a soft voice said, "It's okay, you can open your eyes."

AndrAIa turned her head to the side and squinted and the person who knelt before her. Her vision swam into focus to reveal a young sprite girl.

"I'm glad you're all right," the girl smiled at her.

"Where am I?" AndrAIa asked.

"Underground," the girl smiled and it was then that AndrAIa noticed her eyes. They were not like regular eyes. They were slit-pupil, like a cat, with brilliant blue irises. The girl's face and hair were yellow, but hers was static, like Mouse's.

"Who are you?"

"I'm called SiRCe," she smiled. "And you are?"

"AndrAIa," the game sprite figured it wouldn't hurt to tell, since she'd obviously been out for quite some time and if SiRCe was going to turn her in, she would have done it by now.

"You've been out for awhile," SiRCe smiled. "Don't worry, you're safe here. We haven't betrayed you to the upper levels and we won't."

"Thank you. Wait, you said 'we'. There are more of you?"

"Oh yes, lot's more. We do what we can to make lives a little bit easier."

"But I have to --,"

"Ssh," SiRCe admonished, "You get some rest and when you're well enough, we'll get you cleaned up and you can go meet the others."

AndrAIa didn't argue. "Could I have some water?"

"Of course. A word of caution though, it tastes awful, but you get used to it."

SiRCe hadn't been joking. It did taste terrible, but AndrAIa drank it down and then fell back into a fevered sleep.

She realized more time had passed when she woke up again, but she felt much better. SiRCe fed her some weak broth and more of the horrible water and helped her to sit up.

"I'll bring a wash basin in," SiRCe handed her a cracked dirty mirror. "BRB."

AndrAIa looked at her reflection and scowled. She was more than a mess, she looked like she had lost several games and had been nullified ten times over. Her lush aquamarine hair was now matted and oily. Her skin sported several sickly green splotches. Worst of all when she checked under the sheets to her horror she found she had shed an alarming number of her scales, the spots where they used to be itched profoundly. When she tried to extend her claws, AndrAIa realized that they had broken off. The game sprite muttered a few choice unladylike words.

She trained the mirror on her injury and could see that it had at least been cared for and stitched up, however haphazardly. Also, a simple mud colored gown had replaced her original clothing format.

"If Matrix could see me now," AndrAIa smiled, but then it quickly faded. Oh Matrix, Bob, where are you know? What's happening to you? Are you even still alive?

AndrAIa wiped away the tears that fell. She didn't even notice when SiRCe returned.

"Hey," SiRCe knelt before her. "Are you okay?"

"I'm worried about my friends," AndrAIa sniffed. "Please tell me, did you see them?"

SiRCe didn't answer immediately, "Yes. They were taken away. My sources on the upper levels tell me they were taken into Daemon's inner sanctum. I'm truly sorry."

"You've got to help me," AndrAIa said, "We've got to get them out of there. Think of a rescue plan --,"

"Get them out?" SiRCe looked at her as though she had gone random. "Rescue? No one enters the inner sanctum and lives. And the few times they have, they're totally random when they come out. Those are the ones we try to help, but there's little we can do. Your friends are the rogue Guardians right?"

"Yes."

"Word is, Daemon had something planned for them both. Don't know what it is. I'm sorry, there's no way to help them. You're better off staying with us until we can figure out a way to smuggle you out of here."

"No! You have to help me!"

"I'm sorry, but we can't take the chance. If we cause trouble and are noticed, who knows what will happen to us? Right now, we're just the grunge workers so they leave us alone. We're no resistance force, if that's what you want. We tried to tell that to Macro."

"Who?"

"Your contact. Yes, we know all about that. He tried to convince us to join your resistance force. We refused, so he did it on his own. He was the man you were supposed to meet, and they caught him and took him away right before you came. You know what happened to him? They fed him to the bugs."

"Bugs?"

"Can you stand?"

"Yes."

"Wash up," SiRCe pointed to the basin she had set on the floor. "We're going for a walk."

Washing up consisted of running a cloth over her face, arms and legs and finger-combing her hair, which to her consternation came out in clumps in her hand. SiRCe returned with a clothing format disk.

"Your old format is being repaired. It stinks like all get out. I have your weapon locked in my chest."

The format turned out to be plain brown pants and a loose-fitting top. AndrAIa still felt a little woozy but she was fine as long as they walked slowly.

SiRCe led her down a narrow hall. All manner of pipes and machines, which AndrAIa guessed was what kept the Hall's resources running smoothly, surrounded them. Several sprites and binomes passed them and exchanged greetings. AndrAIa soon realized that SiRCe wasn't the only unusual looking being among them.

They came to a common room of sorts, actually a space between the machinery and pipes. There was a small square pool in the middle and many people were gathered around it. Some were sitting on the pipes (a few children were actually swinging on them) others were resting against the machines. A few groups had broken off to play games. There were card games and dice games and others of chance. The stakes she realized were candies, which she figured was more precious to these people than units.

Although no one stared openly, some glanced their way. Others also called a greeting.

"This is how we live," SiRCe said. "It's not a good life but since the occupation, it's the only life we know."

"Who are these people?"

"Average citizens, government employees, visitors," SiRCe shrugged. "People who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. We never had a chance. Daemon infiltrated the Hall slowly and quietly at first, then struck hard and fast when she had the forces to do it."

"We've wondered how she got in and managed to infiltrate the whole Collective," AndrAIa said, "How do you know so much?"

"We all know a lot," SiRCe averted her eyes, which made AndrAIa wonder. "They keep us around because we are the servants. We do the work they're too lazy to do. It keeps us alive and inconspicuous."

"But it gives you a perfect information network," AndrAIa said. "You are a resistance force in a way. You probably know everything that's going on. You can do something?"

"Like what? Storm Daemon's inner sanctum and destroy her? Liberate your friends? Free the Collective? Do we look like warriors here?"

AndrAIa didn't reply, but she had to agree. They weren't warriors, "You don't have to fight. Didn't you hear me? You're already doing some good by gathering information and helping people, why not expand on that?"

"Didn't you hear me?" SiRCe said. "These are just ordinary people."

"So were members of the resistance force I was with," AndrAIa muttered. She decided not to press further. She couldn't force these people to help her.

"Look, I said we'd smuggle you out. You'll be fed and clothed as long as you earn your keep. You'll not get anything for free. Everyone has a task assigned."

"I'll work," AndrAIa said. "What do you need done?"

"People are needed in the upper levels to care for prisoners," she said. Most of the Guardians are still housed here and some get injured."

"Caring for the Guardians?"

"You'll get used to it. As soon as a way is found, we'll get you out."

"I'm not going anywhere without my friends."

SiRCe eyed her critically; "You will not endanger us on some foolish rescue mission. If you do, I'll personally see you're turned over to the Guardians."

"What?"

"I already have much to answer for," SiRCe seemed to be talking more to herself. "I'll do what I can to keep my people safe."

"I wouldn't do anything to endanger you or your people. The Guardian's would never know --,"

"Of course they will! It's so obvious. Daemon would merely have to torture the information out of you."

"I'll delete first."

SiRCe laughed bitterly, "Oh you will if you're caught. There's no doubt about that."

SiRCe made an expansive gesture with her arm, "Look about you, AndrAIa. I told you most of the people here were caught in the fray when Daemon attacked. They don't know a thing about wars and super virals. They had their lives utterly ripped away from them. They're depending on us to take care of them and that's what we'll do."

AndrAIa decided not to argue further. She saw SiRCe's need to protect these innocent people.

"As to why I really asked you out here," SiRCe continued, "Follow me."

SiRCe led her through another network of pipe-filled hallways until the hum of machinery came stronger to her highly sensitive ears. They stepped through a doorway and AndrAIa was shocked by the sudden rise in temperature. Two other sprites were in the room. One sat at a control panel and the other watched something in a long rectangular window.

"SiRCe," the small sprite at the console turned and AndrAIa was almost unable to hide her reaction. The eyes that looked at her were bulbous through a thick set of goggles similar to Ray's. Yet they contrasted with his small bat-like face that sported an upturned nose, actually a snout and his large ridged ears. "Is this our visitor?"

"Zif, meet AndrAIa," SiRCe said.

"Charmed," Zif took AndrAIa's hand and kissed it.

"Behave, Zif," the second sprite turned away from the window. She was even more unusual than Zif. Her entire body had not a hair, blemish, or distinguishing mark on it. She seemed to be created entirely of a soft metallic-gray substance, more fleshy than metal. Her eyes were also metallic, with no visible iris or pupil. Her teeth were her only contrast. They were black and pointed. "Welcome, AndrAIa. I'm Em Boss."

"Pleasure, Em."

"SiRCe, why bring our guest here?" Zif asked. "This is no place for someone with a weak constitution."

"I want her to see the bugs."

Zif and Em exchanged a glance. "Are you sure?" Zif asked. "What purpose would it serve?"

"She plans to make a rescue attempt of her friends."

"Still it's a bit harsh," Em said. "And we haven't all discussed this."

"There's one more to our leadership," Zif smiled at AndrAIa. "You'll meet him later. His name is Tan."

"I think he would agree on this."

An alarm bell sounded unexpectedly. A red light above the window began to blink.

"Look through the window," SiRCe motioned at AndrAIa. "This is where garbage and waste is deposited and recycled."

AndrAIa took an uncertain step forward. She had an acute sensation she wouldn't like what she saw. At first she could see nothing but her own reflection in the glass. Then when her sensitive vision took over, she saw something moving. Then a dim rid light came on within the chamber and AndrAIa recoiled at the sight of thousands of bugs of all manner of hideous shapes and sizes. They crawled over each other and clung to the walls, snapping at each other in a maddened frenzy.

The alarm bell rang again and from far off, AndrAIa heard echoing cries that rapidly increased in volume. It was then that she noticed the square hole in the far wall of the room that was covered by a hinged grid. The sound she knew were voices screaming in terror and nanos later a binome and a sprite slid through the opening and landed atop the writhing mass. The bugs converged on them immediately, covering them. Their screams cut off abruptly.

AndrAIa watched for a nano before having to turn away.

"So you see now, why we can't allow you to try and rescue your friends?" SiRCe said.

AndrAIa felt the bile rise to her throat. She rushed from the room and became violently sick.

"I'm sorry," SiRCe's voice came behind her when her heaves stopped. "I know that was cruel, but it was nothing compared to what the victims suffer. Sometimes it's not over that fast. Sometimes they feast on the victims for --,"

"Stop it," AndrAIa growled. "I understand, all right? Just get me out of here, and I'll find my own way."

"Fine," SiRCe said. "I'll speak to Tan about your assignment. What skills do you have?"

AndrAIa managed a wan smile, "Oh, assign me to anything. You'll find I'm a fast learner."

***

"There," Em smiled. "How does she look?"

"Like a whole different person," Zif smiled. "Have a look."

AndrAIa accepted the broken piece of mirror from Zif and frowned at her appearance. The game sprite sat with her two new companions in the 'common area' along with a dozen or so of the other workers. SiRCe had gone to find Tan and Zif and Em had volunteered to grace AndrAIa with the perfect disguise.

Now as AndrAIa examined her face, she barely recognized herself. Her hair was slicked back and Em with the artful use of a pair of scissors and Zif; who had produced a jar filled with a dark blue gel (AndrAIa didn't want to know what it was made of) had styled her hair in a shoulder-length cut and the gel had dyed it well – dark blue. More of the gel had been applied on her skin, turning it turquoise. Em had also produced a tiny vial of liquid, with an eyedropper and had placed several drops into AndrAIa's eyes. It stung for a few nanos but when she looked at her eyes in the mirror, they were brown.

What would Matrix think of this?

"Well I don't even think my boyfriend would recognize me," AndrAIa said. She looked up at SiRCe's approach. A large binome was striding along side her. When they were close enough, the binome's single black eye fixed AndrAIa with an icy glare.

"So this is the one," Tan said.

"You two did a great job on her," SiRCe said. "Yes Tan, she'll be helping until we can smuggle her out."

"You were a bit brain for trying to stop Daemon in the first place," Tan said.

"Tan," SiRCe warned.

"It's all right SiRCe," AndrAIa stood. "Someone had to try and stop Daemon. Do you really want to be under her rule forever? Do you really want to live like this?"

"Well it beats being deleted," Tan said. "Or in the condition your friends are probably in."

"I'll worry about my friends, thank you very much," AndrAIa turned to SiRCe, "What did you want me to do?"

"Like I said, you'll be on food detail. In fact, you'll be coming with me to the upper levels to serve the Guardian's their afternoon meal. We'll have to think of a new name of you. I don't think they're looking for you but you can't be too careful."

AndrAIa went down a mental list of names she knew; most would probably be easily recognizable. Finally she settled on, "Maxine."

"Fine," SiRCe said. "I'm going to give you a few pointers, so listen very carefully, understand?"

SiRCe told her first off, that silence, unless you were spoken to, was the best protection. Never look anyone in the eyes, even when they were speaking to you. Serve the food quickly, and unless you know you're a favorite of a certain Guardian, don't try to push foods or drinks on them, or start a conversation with them. Don't raise your voice above a whisper. And most important of all, if you know you've offended someone either get out if you can and grovel if you can't.

AndrAIa was appalled at the very notion of degrading herself that way. She almost outright refused, but SiRCe again reminded her of her promise not to cause trouble. She was almost glad Matrix wasn't here to witness this. She could only guess how he would react to SiRCe's instructions.

When the time came, AndrAIa, SiRCe, Em and several other sprites and binomes traversed the halls of the underground until they came to an elevator. The group piled in and with a ponderous groan, the box began to ascend.

"Tonight when we're finished," SiRCe said, "We'll get together with Zif and Tan and try and come up with a plan to get you out. I already have an idea. The recycling plant is outside the boundaries of the frontier. Maybe we can get you on garbage detail or something."

"All right." AndrAIa replied as the elevator came to a halt and the doors opened.

After her time in semi-darkness, AndrAIa squinted in the light. The group moved down the corridor, which ended in double doors. A binome sat at the entrance.

"Kitchen detail 7741," SiRCe told him. The binome yawned and waved them inside.

The room was alive with sounds, scents and movement. Steam lay thick in the air. Pots bubbled over and fires blazed. Sprites and binomes dashed around in an utter frenzy. AndrAIa couldn't remember ever being in such a situation.

They were approached by a plump female binome. "Hello SiRCe." The binome smiled at AndrAIa. "New person?"

"This is Maxine," SiRCe said, "She just got a promotion."

"Umm hmm," the binome said but questioned it no further. "All right Maxine, you and SiRCe can began serving. The carts are already set up."

"All right," SiRCe motioned for AndrAIa to follow. "That's Judy. She runs the kitchens. We're lucky, because for lunch, everything is already set up."

"Do all the Guardian's eat here?"

"Only the ones in residence at the Hall," SiRCe said. "Most of the Guardians are away, either in battle or securing captured systems."

"Like mine," AndrAIa said. "How many are here?"

"Only a few --," she halted. "Forget it, AndrAIa. Remember your promise."

"I just wanted to know," AndrAIa sighed in exasperation.

About a dozen food laden carts were lined against the wall. Others pushed them through the double doors or returned with empty ones. It was easy processes, just wheel out the carts, place the plates in front of the customer, and go. Other workers kept glasses and cups filled.

"Well here we go," AndrAIa pushed and guided SiRCe as she pulled.

The eating hall was about the cleanest place she had seen so far. The room wasn't as full as AndrAIa expected. A few dozen Guardians as well as soldiers and infected CPU's were gathered at the tables.

AndrAIa followed SiRCe's lead and kept her head down as she placed the plates in front of the patrons. It reminded her in a way of the summer days that she sometimes helped Cecil in the Diner when she was a child. User, that time seemed a year away.

AndrAIa approached a table where three Guardians, two males and a female. One of the Guardians had a small box sitting in front of him. As AndrAIa served, the male Guardian with the box said, "They've been inside for awhile and nothing."

"So why did Daemon want them so much?" The woman asked.

"Do you really think I know?" The man said.

"So what's in the box?" The second man asked.

The first pushed it towards the second. AndrAIa had to wait until the first man's arm was out of the way, so when the second man opened the box, she saw inside.

"A souvenir," the first said.

AndrAIa froze in mute horror at the sight of the object within the box. Rage began to boil up from the pit of her stomach. Her claws extended and she made a sound like a feral hiss.

The second man lifted the globular object from within the box. He turned it between his fingers, "What's this? A letter 'M'?"

A shudder raced through AndrAIa's body, she slammed the plate down.

"Hey bits for brains, what's your problem?" the first Guardian snapped.

AndrAIa turned her furious glare on him and was about to lash out at him when SiRCe suddenly stepped between them, "More java Guardian Black?"

"Yeah, sure, SiRCe," Black said, "Who's the wench?"

AndrAIa's hands balled into fists.

"Maxine. You'll have to excuse her," SiRCe turned and shot AndrAIa a glare. "She's new."

"Keep her in line," Black said. "Get lost you two. We're discussing business here."

SiRCe grabbed her by the arm an AndrAIa nearly pulled away, but the game sprite realized that they had drawn the attention of almost everyone in the room. She allowed SiRCe to pull her away. Once inside the kitchen, SiRCe shoved her into a nearby corner.

"I guess you're one of those favorites?" AndrAIa hissed between her teeth.

"Yes," SiRCe said, "But to net with that. What's wrong with you? You could have gotten us both deleted! Didn't I say --?"

"Oh shut up!" AndrAIa cried and burst into tears.

"Andr—Maxine, what is it? What's wrong?"

"That object in the box. The one Guardian Black had. He's a deleted sprite!"

AndrAIa roughly wiped the tears away and faced SiRCe, "That object he had was a mechanical eye. It belongs – belonged to my love Matrix. They would have had to delete him to get it."

"Perhaps not --,"

"No," a new feeling wound its way through AndrAIa's core-com. "You don't know him, I do."

AndrAIa buried her face in her hands. Oh Sparky, I've lost you. For the first time in her processing the game sprite experienced despair.

***

The little game sprite snapped her fingers and the starfish traveled down the length of her arm. She deftly threw. The User's vehicle turned and fired. The energy paralyzed her and the world around her went dark.

She felt the soft brush against her cheek and a quiet voice said, "Please be okay."

Her eyes opened and met the large violet ones of a small stranger. She leapt to her feet and hissed, extending her claws. The small stranger began speaking rapidly. He was hard to follow and she thought he was a little silly.

By the end of the cycle, she was hopelessly in love with him.

AndrAIa lay on her cot in the infirmary. She pressed her fists into her closed eyes. Despite that, tears still managed to seep from under her lashes. A strangled cry rose from her throat at the memory of the mechanical eye being held in the fingers of that Guardian.

She wasn't leaving. Not until she avenged Matrix.

"AndrAIa?"

"Please, I want to be alone," AndrAIa said.

"I know and I'm sorry, but -- well the others and I were talking and we decided --," SiRCe paused. "We know how we're going to get you out."

AndrAIa sat up as she wiped away tears, "I'm sorry too SiRCe, I'm not going anywhere."

"AndrAIa, we've been through this," SiRCe said. "And besides, if you know your friends are dead --,"

"I don't know if Bob is," AndrAIa said, "And I must avenge Matrix. The Guardian Black said Daemon wanted them for a reason. I'll deal with her later, but the Guardian will be deleted."

"AndrAIa, Cooper Black is basically Daemon's right hand. If he winds up deleted, the repercussions could be deadly."

"I told you already I wouldn't do anything to endanger you."

"And I told you what I would do."

"Fine," AndrAIa stood. "You do what you feel you have to do. I'm sorry you don't understand what my family means to me, but I'm not going to sit idly by any longer. Now may I have my trident, please?"

"No."

"No?" AndrAIa stood. Her claws extended, "May I have my trident, please."

"I won't let you get these people deleted," SiRCe stepped forward. "You'll have to get through me if you want to leave."

"I don't want to hurt you SiRCe," AndrAIa moved forward as well. "You've been very kind to me and I appreciate it, but it's time for me to go."

AndrAIa went for the door, but SiRCe blocked her path. AndrAIa moved to go around her, but SiRCe made the mistake of pushing AndrAIa back. AndrAIa shoved SiRCe back so hard that she fell.

"Stop it, I said I don't want to hurt you."

"You obviously don't understand what my family means to me." SiRCe was up and charging for AndrAIa. The game sprite sidestepped, then reached out and grabbed a handful of SiRCe's hair, jerking her head back.

"I'm sorry, SiRCe," AndrAIa prepared to prick SiRCe with one of her claws.

"Stop!"

Distracted, AndrAIa looked up to find Zif standing in the doorway. SiRCe used to opportunity to ram her elbow into AndrAIa's stomach. It was a weak blow and surprised AndrAIa more than hurt her. It was enough for her to release SiRCe, who swung a hit, which AndrAIa dodged and returned with a sharp jab of her own. SiRCe's head snapped back from the impact.

"I said stop!" Zif threw himself between them and glared at AndrAIa.

"What's going on in here?" Tan stepped into the room, followed by Em.

"We've got to stop her!" SiRCe had recovered. "She's going to try and rescue her friends."

Zif turned viciously to her, "Is that true? You're going back on your word?"

"I'm sorry Zif, but I have to rescue my friend Bob and avenge Matrix."

"And what about us?" Em said. "You made a promise, doesn't that mean anything to you? We know you lost someone. We all have, but we must do what we can to survive."

"You call this surviving?" AndrAIa lost the last of her patience. "Crawling around in the dark like nulls? Eating garbage and licking boots?"

"How dare you?" SiRCe swung her hand to slap AndrAIa, but the game sprite's hand shot out and grasped SiRCe's wrist.

"You really don't want to do that," AndrAIa's eyes narrowed.

"Let her go," Tan stepped forward.

AndrAIa did so. "You can't keep me here against my will."

"Why not let her go," Em said. "She's trouble. I thought she was nice but I guess I was wrong."

"And if she's caught and tortured, they'll accuse us of harboring a fugitive. The only other choice is that we turn her in." SiRCe said.

"Or," Zif said quietly, "We could listen to her."

"What?"

Zif moved forward to stand before AndrAIa. His eyes never left hers as he spoke, "Haven't any of you ever wondered if what we are doing can truly be considered living?"

"Don't let he sway you, Zif," Tan warned.

"Oh I've thought along those lines for a long time before she came here," Zif still stared at AndrAIa. "But I've always known how you all felt. No we can't, 'storm the fortress' as it were, but she was right when she said we have a perfect information network. We may be able to do to Daemon what she did to us."

"No," SiRCe stepped beside him. Was AndrAIa imagining it or was that fear in SiRCe's eyes? "What about our people?"

"You know we've never actually asked our people what they want," Zif said. He held out his hand, "Would you care to, AndrAIa?"

"I said no!" SiRCe grasped Zif's wrist. AndrAIa looked into her eyes and they were glowing a dim yellow. Zif cried out and snatched his hand away. An angry rash appeared on Zif's wrist.

"Spamit, SiRCe!" Zif began to scratch at it.

"Oh Zif, I'm sorry!" SiRCe reached for his hand, "Don't scratch it. That'll make it worse."

AndrAIa had watched the whole incident in shock. When she found her voice she whispered, "You're a viral."

They all stared at her. There was long silence, then Em said, "Come on Zif, I'll put some salve on that."

Em and Zif exited the room. Tan remained.

"Tan, would you excuse us, please?"

"I don't think that's a good idea SiRCe, what if she tried to escape or hurt you?"

"She won't," SiRCe stared evenly at AndrAIa.

"I'll be right outside the door," Tan said.

"Sit down, AndrAIa," SiRCe motioned towards the cot.

Warily, AndrAIa obeyed.

"I'm not a viral," she said. "But I have viral in my family. That only happens when I'm extremely angry and upset. And that rash is the only thing I can do. It goes away after awhile if you don't scratch it and salve usually heals it quickly."

"You know SiRCe, I don't think you ever told me what your format was."

"No, I didn't. I was in Operations."

"And that is?"

She sighed, "I was one of the sprites in charge of sensitive record keeping and data storage. You know, access codes, passwords. That's what they assigned me, but that's not why I came here."

"You wanted to be a Guardian, didn't you?"

"Yes," SiRCe said. "But they refused me."

"Refused you? Why?"

"Why do you think?"

"Your eyes. They give you away most of the time."

"Yes. Most people, like you, don't guess I may be viral. They just think I'm some kind of freak of the User."

"You were found out?"

"After I placed my application. They said they denied me because I lied about being a viral. But I'm not a viral. If you want to get technical I'm about a tenth of a percent. But to keep me from making a fuss, they gave me a government job. I didn't have to take it of course, I could have done something anyway, but I chose not to. I guess – well the Guardians scared me."

"Well --," AndrAIa wanted to give the Guardian's the benefit of the doubt for Bob's sake. "You must understand that any chance of a viral getting into the Collective would have made them wary."

"For User's sake, I've told you a dozen times, I'm not a viral. Neither are Zif and Em, but they were refused to."

Now AndrAIa was thoroughly puzzled, "They were? Why?"

"The same stupid reasons. Don't you get it AndrAIa? We were denied because we're different! Do you even know how that feels?"

"Yes, I do."

"How could you?"

"Because I'm not a normal sprite either."

"Don't tell me you're viral? Search engine?"

"No," AndrAIa breathed a sigh, "I'm a game sprite."

"You're a – what?"

AndrAIa went on to explain how she had come to be in the 'outside world'. SiRCe listened intently, then gave a whistle when AndrAIa was finished.

"Impressive," SiRCe said. "That's absolutely amazing, then again, it would explain how you could survive in that tube."

SiRCe turned away, "So you do understand."

"There are still many things I don't know," AndrAIa leaned against the wall and closed her eyes, "But I'm learning every second. And I've learned enough to know that the Guardians excluding anyone because they're different isn't right."

AndrAIa opened her eyes and reached her hand over to lay it atop SiRCe's, "Is that why you helped Daemon gain access to the Collective?"

SiRCe looked at her and her sapphire eyes filled with tears. AndrAIa pulled her into an embrace as SiRCe began to cry. AndrAIa didn't speak. She offered no useless platitudes. She knew this was what SiRCe needed. A chance to release the grief and feelings of betrayal. When SiRCe was finished, she lifted her head and faced AndrAIa. The game sprite gently wiped SiRCe's tears away.

"Better?" AndrAIa smiled.

"A little."

"Who else knows?"

"Basically everybody," SiRCe said. "You see we were easy targets for Daemon. She sought me out first. You see she can feed off of the dark emotions of others, fear, agony, hatred it's like nourishment for her. She can take pleasant memories and twist them into evil nightmares. I was never aware of how she was manipulating my emotions. Making me feel that the Collective did me a great injustice and vengeance was the only answer. I was promised power and glory if I helped her."

SiRCe's voice took on a bitter edge. "She was so good. She pretended to truly care about my feelings. She used many pretty words and compliments. She convinced me that her way was the best. Soon, I began to recruit others to help her. Zif, Em, and Tan. All of our emotions were being used to feed that monster and the more we hated, the stronger she became."

"We helped her build her army. Sometimes we lured Guardians into traps or abducted them or family members to coerce them. Some had secrets of their own that we exploited. It was I who lured Prime Guardian Turbo into a trap. Oh Daemon was so pleased at that. I just knew that I had won her favor."

"And when the hard strike came," SiRCe continued, "I was there. So many people died in that first battle, but I was ecstatic. I would finally have what I wanted."

"I'm surprised she didn't have you all deleted."

"Consider it, AndrAIa," SiRCe managed a wry smile, "What is a better punishment for traitors? Deletion, or living with the knowledge that you are a traitor and that after being promised power, you're relegated to the bowels of the Super Computer."

"I see your point," AndrAIa shook her head. "So Daemon knows you're down here, alive and suitably downtrodden. She used you quite well."

"Yes."

AndrAIa leaned forward, "Wouldn't you like a chance for payback?"

"Of course I would," SiRCe folded her arms and leaned back. "Oh no."

"What have you got to lose, SiRCe? Wouldn't you just love to get her by the circuits?"

SiRCe closed her eyes. "You know I would."

"You can do it without fighting. I mean, did you actually get into any physical confrontations while you were working for her?"

"A few minor skirmishes, but nothing major."

"Don't you think it's about time you rewrote the disk?"

"Are you always this demanding," SiRCe smiled.

"Not always," AndrAIa returned the smile.

"You'll keep my secret won't you? If we do win the second and Daemon is destroyed and the Collective is reinstated --,"

"You know I won't tell anyone."

"I just want to leave the Super Computer now, forget all about being a Guardian. But I don't want anyone chasing me."

"I understand."

"Well," SiRCe rose and AndrAIa followed suit, "Guess we better talk to the others."

"Yes," AndrAIa nodded, "As a dear friend of mine is so fond of saying, "What we need, is a plan."