It was two tenths of a second before the expected call came. I could have used a whole minute. The records of Bob's life that existed were both trivial and extensive – things of importance to me were few and far between. The utter disorganization of his files was a far more effective firewall against my efforts than any encryption would have been. I began to doubt my initial conclusion. Bob's intent was plain, but I as yet saw no evidence that he had actually gone beyond an idea to practical applications. What he had done to my sister appeared to be an accident as much as anything. I had just dismissed the truly disturbing image of her as a sprite when the vid-window popped open. I confess I was taken off-guard, to say the least.
"Yaaargh!" I said coherently, as I lost my balance and fell off the chair. As I picked myself up, I saw the Prime Guardian almost smiling at my discomfiture. I felt my face twitch, but I was certain nothing else could have betrayed me.
I swear, there must be a 'wacky hijinks' subroutine somewhere in Bob's code – I hit my head on the table getting up. I smiled self-depreciatingly at the vid-window, and hated myself for doing it. "Can I help you, Turbo?"
"I'm at the Principle Office, Bob. We need to talk."
"Er…okay." I said, my mind racing. What could have brought him all the way to Mainframe? "I'll be there in a few nanos." I cancelled the vidwindow, then recompressed my research into a portable notepad, encrypting it as an afterthought before hopping on my zip-board.
One of the things I most liked about being Bob was the zip-boards. It sounds silly, certainly, but zip-boards were beneath my dignity as viral lord of G-Prime. Very few things, however, were beneath Bob's dignity.
It still felt strange to casually walk into the P.O. as if it was nothing. Security waved me past without a second glance. I kept expecting Matrix to go for his Gun, and I tended to keep a nervous eye on him. Of course, everyone else generally did as well, so this went unnoticed. I tensed briefly as an arm snaked around me, then blinked as I was drawn into a kiss.
It was just…astounding. There weren't really words in my vocabulary for how incredible and utterly other it felt. I was left grinning stupidly for a few nanoseconds after Dot let me up for air. She grinned back, laughter in her eyes. "Good morning, handsome."
Then Turbo cleared his throat. Dot and I sprang apart guiltily as the Prime Guardian entered the war room. He walked over to us, and I met him in person for the first time.
Prime Guardian Turbo is a rather heavily built sprite, tough as a Linux install, mind and body. Getting to the upper echelons of the Guardian Collective, as with anything, probably required a disgraceful amount of backstabbing and conniving. Turbo wasn't the puppet-ruler format– and I suspected he was a lot cleverer than he let on. He smiled at us. "This isn't the Academy, Bob…I'm not going to expel you for fraternizing…" His eyes immediately strayed to Glitch, integrated into my arm. He drew a breath in.
"Then…the other Bob?"
"Yes." I said, flatly. It was still a bit of an open wound. For my entire existence, Bob had been there, an expected presence. An exasperating one, certainly, but a known factor. I had enjoyed sparring with him, just as I enjoyed matching wits with Ms. Matrix. Having him truly and permanently gone was something I was still adjusting to, along with the thousand other new facts of this life I had to absorb.
Turbo bowed his head. "I'm sorry."
Dot interjected. "The null experiments are promising. If we can collect data from the games that nullify sprites and binomes, we may be able to recompile their code. I wouldn't give up on them yet."
"Is that why you're keeping Nibbles in that cage?" I asked, curiously.
"Welman." Dot corrected frostily. I winced at my slip. Stupid mistakes would get me deleted – and were also so gauche. At the look on my face, she softened. "You couldn't have known…that's…that's my father. Hex managed to partially recompile him before…" she paused. "Anyway, we've managed to capture Mouse. We're not sure where Gl…the other Bob is, though I have teams searching the sector still."
"So…if you have code from the game…you might be able to recompile them?" I asked.
"Exactly." Glitch whirred at me, but I had already made the connection.
"Glitch was in the game, and probably took game-stats. Is that what you'd need?" I couldn't believe I was doing this.
Dot smiled. "It's a start, yes. Phong's creating a prototype machine that will sample the exact game code we'll need though. We'll have to establish a database – up for a project, Bob?"
"Miss Matrix? Begging your pardon," Turbo interjected, "but this technology would be of great interest to the collective. We can get you all the game codes you need, in exchange for any cure you develop."
"That would be perfect. I'll have my people contact your people to work out the details." Turbo nodded, then turned to me.
"A cure for nulls – that would get Collective morale up. I won't lie to you, Bob…the outlook is pretty grim. A lot of the best and the brightest were eliminated in Daemon's takeover, or by this system's defenders. The remaining guardians – some of them did terrible, terrible things under Daemon. A few people have asked me to remove their protocols. More have…taken matters into their own hands. Academy applications have slowed to a trickle, and we might not even have the staff to teach those. And those of us who had keytools – we're the worst hit. Empty…but you know, don't you. We need the keytools to return for the Collective to survive. We need a symbol of hope after Daemon's darkness." He laid his hand on my shoulder. "We need you, Bob. That's what I came here to tell you"
"Me?" I blinked slowly, digesting that. I looked at Dot…who hesitated, then nodded.
"Prime Guardian…it would be an honor."