CHAPTER TWO

DISCOVERIES, PART 2

"Now — exactly how did the City come back?" Bob asked, leaning back against the couch next to Dot. Enzo was asleep, and Bob was staying at the Diner for another night.

"My head's still spinning," she confessed. "But Dad told us: when the Twin City was destroyed, the people were frozen, too. The surge from the other second — that destroyed the Archives — seems to have thawed them out."

Bob thought for a few moments. "I guess that's possible," he said, though his expression was still clouded. "But what about the location? You told me that the Twin City used to be where Lost Angles is now. How come the City came back in the wrong place?"

Dot sighed and shook her head. "I don't know, Bob." Her voice grew softer. "I'm just glad my family is back. . . ." A tear slid down her cheek.

"Hey, it's okay," Bob soothed, brushing the tear away with his thumb. "You've got your home and your family here."

"And you," Dot replied, laying her head on his shoulder. "It's so wonderful," she whispered, closing her eyes.

Bob wrapped his arm around her and kissed her hair, as they sat in happy silence.

Mouse walked into the War Room. "Well, Ah've almost done it," she announced with a grin. "The Archives aren't up an' running yet, but Ah was able ta salvage a couple o' windows."

"So that's what took so long," Ray commented with a smile.

"Good job, Mouse," Dot said, glancing up from the console she had been working at for the last micro. She returned her gaze to the console and didn't speak.

A shared smile passed through the group. Mouse walked over to stand by Ray.

Several nanoseconds later, the door opened, and there stood — Mouse. The lavender-skinned hacker was breathing heavily, having run from the other end of the Principle Office.

"There's — there's an imposter," she panted, her gaze sweeping around the room. When she saw the copy of her, she drew her katana and charged at the first Mouse with a fierce cry as the others watched in confusion.

In an eye-blink, the first Mouse leapt forward and seized the second. She pinned Mouse's arms to her sides in a steel grip with one hand, while she pressed a knife to her neck with the other.

"Nobody move," the imposter hissed, "or the hacker gets it."

Matrix stepped forward, pulling Gun out of its holster. He pointed it at the imposter; out of the corner of his eye he saw Bob appear behind the Mouses, holding up his hands, ready to use his keytool powers.

"I don't think so," the Guardian challenged.

Matrix tightened his finger on the trigger when he felt something hit him in the back. He spun around as Specks launched himself again at the large renegade. Matrix gave a shout — more of surprise than pain — and grabbed the small binome.

While his attention was turned, the fake Mouse knocked Bob aside, still holding the real Mouse. When AndrAIa stepped forward, she kept her back by pressing the knife harder to Mouse's neck.

Matrix succeeded in grabbing Specks. He held the binome a foot away and glared at him. Instead of cowering, as he usually would, Specks returned the glare.

Matrix wanted to laugh; instead he said, "So, you're an imposter, too?"

"Took a while to figure that out, eh?" Specks countered dryly. His single eye turned to the imposter Mouse, and he asked, "Why is it you get to be the good sprites?"

"Me?" she laughed, still holding the knife against Mouse's neck. "Ah gotta work with this accent, and it ain't helpin' — wait." She cleared her throat several times; and when she next spoke, her voice had deepened, and there was no accent. "You get the people they never notice. Whether I'm in disguise or not, I'm always noticeable." With her last words, the imposter Mouse's skin melted and shifted, changing color. Her purple skin and static orange hair became black and white and orange stripes that ringed her entire body, including her hair, that was crafted into a brown swirl above her head. With a look at her partner, she said impatiently, "Well — change already."

"Fine," he muttered — his voice had already deepened. "You're always so bossy. . . ."

Matrix looked back at him and swore. He tried to keep a hold on the shifting mass in his grip as the imposter's skin melted and wriggled, like the woman's. When he was finished, Matrix found that he was holding a male sprite Bob's size, with deep red skin and thick black hair done up in feathers. He wore a black jumpsuit with a white sash over the left shoulder.

The sprite blinked at him over dark sunglasses. "Do you mind?"

Reluctantly, Matrix set him down. The sprite dusted himself off self-consciously, and walked over to where the woman stood. "C'mon, let her go," he said.

With an obedience as forced as Matrix's she dropped Mouse. With an enraged growl, the hacker spun around and prepared to use her katana. The woman grabbed the weapon in an action too fast to follow.

Everyone had shrunk back. Dot approached the two mysterious sprites. "Who are you?" she asked.

The man grinned. "I believe the better question is what are we." The woman beside him grunted, but he went on, "We're strong, clever, pretty much immortal beings called Protectors — meaning, we watch over and protect sprites. In this case, we're assigned to the Matrix kids. I'm Rasta Mon," he added, with a small bow.

Bob's eyebrows rose. "Rasta Mon? How'd you end up with that kind of name?"

"It's actually Raster Monitor," the sprite replied, "but I prefer the shorter version. And I wouldn't be talking — Bob," he added.

Bob nodded meekly and turned to the woman. "And you are . . .?"

"Stripe," she answered grimly.

"Just Stripe?"

"Just Stripe," she repeated. Half of her mouth quirked upward in a small smile. "It's pretty self-explanatory."

"Ookay," Bob muttered under his breath, and stepped back.

Dot seized control of the conversation once again. "You two — protect us?"

"Ah, but it's Protect with a capital P," Rasta Mon corrected her. "And yes, we've watched over you and the Enzos."

"For how long?" asked Dot.

"Ever since you were initialized," Rasta Mon explained. He grinned. "We're not technically supposed to intervene noticeably in your lives. We didn't have to when you were kids — him, ah, they, as a toddler, and you as a teenager." His face darkened for a moment. "Those times weren't like these. They were good."

"Yes, they were," Stripe added. She looked at Matrix and said, "I remember when you were so young and innocent — before you got the eye, the gun, and the attitude that came with them."

"So you were there — in the Games?" Matrix asked.

Stripe laughed mirthlessly. "Don't hold your breath."

"I was in the Games," Rasta Mon said.

"And that left me in Mainframe," Stripe added.

"Let me guess," AndrAIa ventured, "neither of you got who you wanted?"

This coaxed a laugh from both of them.

"Far from it," Stripe said. "If I had my way, I'd have watched over the older Enzo. He's more of a warrior than Miss Command.com."

Dot made a small, insulted sound, but Rasta Mon beat her to an argument.

"Brains are better than brawn," he said.

Stripe snorted. "Please, Ras."

"Please, tell us this," Dot said. "Why exactly are you two appearing now?"

Stripe turned a glare on Rasta Mon. He coolly replied, "Daemon" without looking at his companion.

"What's with the disguises?" Mouse put in.

Stripe shrugged. "We'd be out of place as ourselves."

"If Mouse is here, where's Specks?" asked Bob.

In answer, Rasta Mon kicked the console behind him. The loose plating popped off, revealing Specks, bound and gagged.

Rasta Mon bent down and untied the binome and helped him to stand. "Nice meeting you," he said cheerily, shaking Specks' hand. "No hard feelings, I hope?"

Shaking, Specks fled the room as fast as he could.

Rasta Mon shook his head as he stood up. "Jumpy little guy," he commented.

Phong rolled into the Principle Office. When he saw the two Protectors, he gasped and jerked back, dropping the minimized windows he held. "Who are you?"

Rasta Mon grinned. "Hey, how's the wise old Command.com?"

Phong peered at him closely and adjusted his glasses. "I am sorry, my son, but do I know you?"

Rasta Mon smiled and shook his head. "Probably not. We're Protectors. Long story. . . ."

Later, the two Protectors were walking down one of the Principle Office's hallways. They were invisible, not wishing to show themselves to the other citizens of Mainframe. Their voices were also cloaked; no one could hear Stripe shouting at Rasta Mon.

"You idiot!" she snapped. "What did you think you were doing?"

"What did you think we could have done?" he countered. "Run away as imposters? They would have caught us."

"We would have disappeared. We've done it before."

"Then how come you were the first one to change?" Rasta Mon argued.

Stripe bit her lip, her eyes clouded. "The real Mouse came in and ruined our cover — but . . . I don't know," she admitted finally. "It seemed . . . I don't know, right to."

"You see, Stripe, this way was so much better than the other," Rasta Mon urged. "They deserve to know."

"We've Protected three generations each," Stripe said. "None of them deserved to know."

"This is a super-virus, Stripe!" Rasta Mon argued.

"I still don't see your point."

"This is our problem as much as it's theirs. Did you ever stop to think what would happen? If Daemon deletes either of our Protected. . . ."

Stripe looked away, her face hard.

". . . .We'll be out of a job," Rasta Mon went on. "Have you ever failed to Protect someone, Stripe?" He knew it was a touchy subject, but he had to prove his point.

Stripe glared daggers at him, but instead of answering his question, she said, "I still think it was ill-conceived and impulsive."

"That's why you love me," Rasta Mon teased.

A corner of Stripe's mouth twitched, as she tried to hide a smile.

"I'm getting more like my Protected every second," Rasta Mon mused.

Unable to help herself, Stripe laughed out loud.

Rasta Mon frowned as he thought about what he had just said. "Wait! That can't be right!"

Dot's Diner was crowded with CPUs and weary sprites taking a break from their upcoming-war plans, as well as the normal lunch crowd. Cecil was in a frenzy trying to seat everyone, and for once his "Wait at the bar" expression had a meaning.

"Tell me more about Protecting us," Enzo urged Rasta Mon. He, the Protectors, Matrix, AndrAIa, and Kode sat in a booth; the sprites drank energy shakes while Rasta Mon and Stripe sat back and answered questions.

"Like, if you were my Protector, how come I never saw you?" Enzo asked.

"For one thing, we just made history this morning, being the first Protectors to reveal themselves to sprites," Rasta Mon answered. "Plus, we're supposed to stay low when watching you people."

"Wait," Matrix interrupted, eyes narrowed. "I remember seeing you once; in the Principle Office, when Bob and Dot had that tiff."

"So you were the purple guy who was levitating!" Enzo said remembering also.

AndrAIa and Kode studied Rasta Mon's red skin in confusion. Stripe glared at him and accused, "I thought you were camouflaged."

"I thought purple was camouflage," Rasta Mon answered helplessly.

Stripe waved a hand in an "I give up" expression. "I have better things to do than listen to you all," she muttered. "Like take care of my Protected." She disappeared swiftly, leaving a fading image of stripes.

Enzo gaped at the spot where she had been. "Can all of you do that?" he asked Rasta Mon.

He nodded. "And no, I'm not demonstrating for you," he added as Enzo opened his mouth. "Man, I've nearly forgotten what it's like to Protect a kid, what with the renegade over there speeding up his life in the Games." Rasta Mon grinned at Matrix's annoyed glare. To Enzo and the others he said, "You have no idea how much I tried to fix him; but he was a lost case from the start. I even went into his dreams." He turned to Matrix and smiled. " Who is Number One?'"

Matrix's eyes widened, and he growled, "You!" He looked ready to strangle Rasta Mon.

"Were you around when I met those two?" Kode asked.

Rasta Mon looked at him, and immediately his expression turned sour. "I told you, I was there for all twelve hours. Believe me, you didn't make my job any easier when you two were fighting over the game sprite. Any other questions? Good," he said when no one spoke. "Hey, what's-your-name, energy shake, please."

Cecil glanced over at the red-skinned man. "Coming up sir," he said tightly. When he had set down the energy shake, he snapped, "And it is Cess-il!"

Rasta Mon lifted his drink as his body turned invisible, so that it looked as if the energy were draining down through the air. Binomes in booths near them gasped or slowly backed away.

Rasta Mon reappeared. "Ahh, nothing like a good drink. Hey, where'd everybody go?"

"I don't believe it," Matrix muttered to AndrAIa, "he's some kind of attention hog. I don't know which one is worse, him or Kode."

"Be nice," she whispered back.

"Yeah, Enzo," Rasta Mon added with a smirk. "I used to change your diapers in the Twin CIty, when Del was taking a break."

Kode exploded with laughter into his shake. He quieted, but he still convulsed silently, grinning at Matrix.

Matrix clenched his hands into fists. "How did I end up with you?" he muttered.

"That's exactly what I've been asking myself all these hours," Rasta Mon retorted. "As I'm sure Stripe has. . . ."

Stripe watched over Dot's shoulder as the Command.com sorted through the various windows that the real Mouse had salvaged from the damaged Archives. "What use is that? You need action, not dawdling."

Dot turned and glared at her Protector. Stripe merely crossed her arms over her chest and said, "Just giving my opinion."

Dot sighed and turned back to her work. "Why didn't you end up Protecting my brother, since you two have so much in common?" she muttered.

"That's not the way it is," Stripe replied. "Sometimes Protectors and their Protected are the same, but, as Ras would say, that makes it so boring."

"I'll bet," Mouse said, listening to the conversation from her seat. "Do Ah have a Protector?"

"Every sprite has a Protector," Stripe answered. "Of course, none of them are as stupid as my partner, to break every rule in the book."

"Are there any files on Protectors?" Phong asked interestedly. "Once we rebuild the Archives, we could add that to the collection of information. It would make Mainframe's Read Only Room a very popular place, with something as rare as that."

Stripe shrugged. "I'll talk with Rasta Mon; there may be some files."

Dot held up a minimized window. "I found something on viruses."

Mouse took the window and double-clicked the box in the corner, and it snapped to a full-size VidWindow, displaying a list of the different types of viruses.

"Let us begin watching, so we can find out something," Phong said.

Stripe seated herself next to Dot and turned invisible.

"It's gonna be a long second," Mouse sighed.