Bob met the gaze of the Prime Guardian a bit nervously, but stood his ground, at attention in Turbo's office. "You wanted to see me, sir?"

Turbo waved his hand. "Sit down, son. We need to talk."

"Is this about Kilobyte, sir?"

The Prime Guardian wearily rubbed his temples. "Not this time. We couldn't have anticipated that. Nobody could – could have saved Dixon. This is about you, though, today. You and Glitch, to be exact."

"Yes?"

"I'll be honest with you, kid. Most of the council is of the opinion that Glitch made the wrong choice with you, especially after your performance on the finals. There are full guardians that would do nearly anything to have a chance at that keytool – you've made a lot of enemies, with your ideas..."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that, according to the standards set by the Council, you've failed your finals, kid. You're not fit to go on active duty.  Signos told me to my face that I was a fool for not confiscating Glitch immediately. But  I know better than to argue with a keytool that's made its choice. I'm of the opinion that keytool says you're a guardian a lot more than your opinions on necessary deletion. I think that your ideas shouldn't be dismissed offhand, even if they are crazy. I know Glitch wouldn't have made a bad choice."

Bob blinked, and said, disbelievingly, "But the Council…You're kicking me out?"

"No, son. We're putting you on probation."

"What?!"

Turbo sighed again. "Basically, until you obey the standard protocols, we can't send you to systems expecting a guardian to actually solve their virus problems permanently. We can't keep you here either. However, I've worked out a compromise with the council." He handed Bob a datapad.

Bob took a few moments to scan the document. An elated grin crossed his face. "I've got a system!"

"You've got a responsibility." Turbo corrected. "We're closing this system to the Net. You're going to be the only representative of the Guardian Collective there, and you will be expected to act the part. Your function is to mend and defend. It's a small system, with two powerful viruses, and none of the high-tech toys you've been used to playing with. Back to BASIC. If you can prove your theories on the ground, the council will have to listen. It's not going to be easy, kid. Remember, every life in that system is yours to protect. You have to keep them safe, all of them."

"I will. All of them"

The Prime guardian shook his head. "There's a real world out there, son. It's messy and ugly and unfair- and sometimes you have to make tough choices. Try to make the right ones. I'm putting a lot on the line for you. Glitch, that goes for you too." He looked down at the keytool with a slight smile on his face. "Dismissed."

I paused the playback, frowning, before calling up the document in question. Something about this was bothering me. I scanned through it.

…system Mainframe...full Guardian protocols…in regard to your proposed experiment in reprogramming viruses…

There it was.

I read further.

After I finished, there was another file to cue up. And another.

How had he hidden this from me?

An offer to send a Viral Incident team in response to a report of me managing to leech energy out of Games – rejected. Rejected! On the one hand, I was furious at how he had played me like an mp3, both overtly and covertly – I hadn't thought him capable of this amount of…well…planning. Futile planning – or was it?

The only way to induce Megabyte to change is to convince him that the change was his idea all along. However, once given a gentle nudge along that slope field, I believe he will begin to see rationally that legitimate power and respect is a far more useful tool to him than his current 'evil overlord' persona. The need for power could easily become a way to manipulate him, if the predatory nature of his function could be blunted. A reformed Megabyte would not only be a capable administrator, I think, but a brilliant one. Tyranny won't get him out of Mainframe. Eventually, he'll realize that, I hope…

I drummed my fingers on the table, thinking.

Was he right?

I looked at the facts.

Bob had apparently been trying to reprogram me since the very beginning. Had he succeeded? My distaste at the very idea aside – I had taken his code. Had I been manipulated into doing that? I didn't think so…but on the other hand Bob had given the Matrix boy his protocol before joining me on the Hardware – as if he wasn't expecting to come back. I honestly didn't know if it had been my plots or his that had been furthered that fateful tenth of a second. 

Dot says you can never trust a virus. I disagree. I maintain that you can always trust a virus to be a virus.

I began to have the sneaking suspicion that Guardian 452 had known me better than I had known myself…and that I knew him hardly at all. I felt like a pawn in a game beyond either of our comprehensions. My keytool chirped suddenly, and I came to a realization.

"I think." I said to Glitch, slowly, "I begin to see."

The keytool whirred in amusement. Of course…