A squad of CPUs rose from the Principle Office, streaking toward the newcomers dropping out of the Web. The squad cars swung into position above, below, and to either side of the two ships. Their coms were buzzing with a three-way conversation.

"So, what did you call in the cavalry for, Sugar?" Mouse asked Dot.

Dot looked solemnly out of the split screen in Mouse's cockpit. "Ray's with you, right?"

"He's taking a little nap in the back," Mouse assured the Command.com. "We've been real busy lately, if you know what I mean."

Dot's eyebrows shot toward her hairline, and a faint suggestion of pink touched her cheeks.

"I see you have a battle in your system, good lady," Captain Capacitor interrupted from the other side of the split screen. "Shall I render assistance?"

Dot gave herself a little shake. "No, thank you, Captain, we've got that under control. I need your help with a bigger problem."

"Just name it, honey," Mouse offered.

"You might regret that offer after I tell you what I need, Mouse."

"We are your loyal friends, good lady. We would not abandon you in your microsecond of peril," Captain Capacitor reassured her.

Dot smiled, but the smile didn't reach her eyes. "Thanks, both of you. Now, here's my plan."

Wayne popped into a large room with a deafening bang. He staggered, then put one hand to his head. "I should take a break," he told himself. He grinned as he wove aimlessly around the empty room. "Why, Doctor, I do believe you've been working too hard. Go take your dog for a walk and enjoy the sights." He tripped over his own feet and fell against the wall. "I believe you're right, nurse. Here, puppy." His green eyes fixed on a patch of empty floor, then tracked toward the door. "Come back, puppy! Good dog!" He fell over his own feet again, and sat back up, giggling. "Good puppy! Now roll over!" He rolled onto his back and wagged his feet in the air, then collapsed onto his side, doubled up in laughter. "Oh, it won't be long now," he panted. "Playtime's almost over." His eyes shone bright in his utterly-straight face as he disappeared with another resounding boom.

The War Room of Guardian Headquarters was busy, but nearly silent. The watchful staff glided about their duties in their stocking feet, and spoke in low tones into their headsets, efficiently passing information from one station to another. The reason for their quiet was collapsed over his dark station, surrounded by energy-bar wrappers and internal reports. Turbo's headset dangled around his neck, and Copland blinked on its Guardian's left arm, monitoring. The shift changed, and the night staff took their places with barely a sound.

The scan tech was the one to break the quiet. His screen lit up, and he turned in his chair. "Commander!" he called in an urgent whisper. His call sounded in everyone's earphones as a near-shout.

The shift commander shot the youngster a quelling look, then quickly crossed the room. "What is it, George? And keep your voice down."

"Sorry, sir," George said in a tense murmur. "But we've got major activity out there."

The commander bent over to look at George's screens. "Is that what I think it is?"

George nodded. "Web traces, sir. Lots of them."

"And all centered on Mainframe. Where else?" the commander sighed.

"That's where Doctor MacHewlett and Davic went, sir." George reminded him worriedly.

"I know." The commander watched the glowing screens for a long moment. "Any idea what left these traces?"

"The signals are pretty scrambled, sir. Most of them are microseconds old. It'll take a while to reconstruct their data shadows."

"Do it," the commander said. He stared at the screens for another nano. "Comm, has there been any word out of Mainframe?"

"Nothing, sir. They're receiving messages, but they're not replying."

The commander shook his head. "Small-system stubbornness. Too proud to admit they need help."

"And tough enough to manage without it," a rough-edged voice finished. Turbo came to stand beside the commander. He glanced at the screen, and his brows lowered. "I hope you were planning to wake me, Will," he said quietly.

"You needed the rest, sir," the commander replied. "If we'd found anything viral, we'd have informed you."

Copland buzzed.

"Now don't you start," Turbo said reproachfully. "So, what have I missed?" he asked the commander. He scanned George's screens. His eyebrows rose. "Web traces?"

"Yes, Prime," George said respectfully. "Headed right for Mainframe. Sir."

Turbo sank back against the console and rubbed his eyes with one hand. "If this thing has spread into the Web, we'll never be able to stop it. All it would take is one green-eyed Web creature—" he stopped. "Will, you have the conn."

"Where are you going?" the commander asked.

"To end this."

Bob and Davic dropped out of a vent above a corridor, then stumbled and fell against the wall as the station shook again. The high-pitched cries of Web Creatures sang through the air ducts, along with the hiss of escaping air and the groan of straining metal.

Caen beeped, and Davic glanced down at it. He shook his head. "We'd better find your cadet and the Doc soon, Bob," he said. "This place won't take many more of those hits."

"That's not our biggest problem," Bob answered.

"Do I want to know what you're talking about?"

"Listen, Davic. What do you hear?"

Davic paused, then shrugged. "Nothing much. I can hear your decompiling buddies yelling out there."

"Right. No virals, no doors opening and closing, not even a duct fan. It's quiet—"

Davic held up one hand. "Don't say it. Just tell me what kind of trouble we're in."

"Warning. Sector undock in three nanoseconds," a dispassionate voice interrupted.

"Does that answer your question?" Bob asked.

Davic rolled his eyes. "Portal out?"

"We should be able to make the sector lock in time." Bob grinned. "Unless your processor's slowed down, that is." He took off down the corridor.

"In your dreams, city sprite!" Davic sprinted after Bob.

Deep in the station's gut, Megabyte chuckled. The blue blips representing the two Guardians raced toward the station's core.

"Run, fools, run. Hurry to your demise," Megabyte purred at the screen. He turned away from the scanners. "Herr Doktor! Have you finished your preparations?"

"Yes, Lord Megabyte," the mad scientist replied. "All that is left to do is to throw the switch."

"Excellent," Megabyte purred. He strode to the center of the room, where Matrix lay spread across the central console. "You always were good bait, boy," he told the unconscious sprite. He glanced up at his captain of the guard. "Where is our other guest?"

"His energy signature dropped off our screens several nanos ago, sir."

"Just as I theorized," Herr Doktor said in satisfaction.

"Yes," Megabyte murmured. "I do like it when a problem remedies itself."

Bob skidded to a halt in the sector lock, with Davic only a breath behind him.

"Glitch—key," Bob panted.

Glitch burbled, then lifted off Bob's arm and planted itself on the wall beside the far door.

Davic shut the other door behind himself and put his back to the wall to breathe. "Not bad, city sprite. That was almost a workout."

Caen beeped.

"Now what, Caen?"

Caen clacked, and rattled out a phrase of clicks and whistles.

Davic paled. "You what?"

Caen whistled. Glitch hummed something back as numbers flashed across its screen.

"See if it can locate Matrix," Bob said tersely.

Caen beeped.

"It's got him," Davic said hoarsely. "But the Doc's gone. His signal just disappeared." He slid down the wall into a crouch, and lowered his head, still breathing hard.

"That could mean lots of things," Bob replied hurriedly. "Caen's not at full power, and nor is Glitch. He could be outside their range, or his energy levels could be too low for them to pick up."

"Or maybe there's nothing to find," Davic said bleakly.

"I won't believe that," Bob said firmly. "Not while there's a chance Wayne's still processing."

"Slim chance," Davic said.

"Is there any other kind?" Bob asked. He grabbed Davic by the arm and dragged him to his feet. "Come on. We've got a job to do, Guardian."