CHAPTER THREE
HELLO AND GOOD-BYE
Author's note: I don't know if Lost Angles came back with the system reboot (I didn't see it reappear in "End Prog."), but in this fanfic it's there, and Hexadecimal still lives in her Lair.
Prime Guardian Turbo looked up as Daemon approached. She was in the form of an older woman with turquoise skin and snapping purple eyes. In the seconds after the destruction of Isna Radius' mansion, Daemon had changed hosts, so that no one would see the presumed-dead Isna walking the Supercomputer's streets.
Turbo flinched as Daemon passed by his group of Guardians, the flash in her eyes making the gashes on his arms burn. Much as he hated to admit it, he was frightened of the gruesome stories he'd heard of what the super-virus did to the slaves who lacked — some of those punishments he had experienced first-hand. Proof of the stories came not only in the various injuries Guardians and the slaves bore every second, but also in the blank stares of those he commanded.
Daemon didn't hold a reprimand, as Turbo had thought she would. She simply watched the sprites and binomes work, then looked at Turbo and commanded, "Turbo — my office."
Knowing not to speak, he followed her, ignoring the mutters and stares of the slaves. When they stepped inside her office, he seated himself where she told him to, his mouth dry.
"Do you know what divide, render, conquer' is?"
Turbo started. "The viral format," he answered slowly.
"Correct," Daemon said. A ghost of a smile appeared on her lips. She turned to a small organizer placed on her desk and began entering numbers into it, with an almost businesslike air. Her gloved fingers struck the keys with a light tap tap sound as she spoke. "It's an excellent strategy in taking over a system; especially one like that Mainframe."
Turbo blinked, surprised and very intrigued; despite himself he asked, "Why?"
Daemon didn't admonish him for his question. Instead, she was strangely at ease to give him an answer. "The key to control is to separate the enemy; to use their weaknesses against them. Matrix is quick to anger and will do rash things. AndrAIa will be defenseless if she is unable to recognize her surroundings. Reach past Bob's bravado and you discover a dark part to him. Put all these together, and you get pain and chaos and no order — Dot Matrix's worst nightmare."
"How — how do you know all this?" Turbo asked; he knew he was pushing his luck, but at the moment he was too shocked to care.
"I have my sources." Daemon turned to face him and smiled mysteriously. "You may go."
Turbo didn't waste a nanosecond. He pushed himself up; and with a short bow and murmur, quickly exited the room. He brushed past the large guards with their expressionless faces, continuing down the hall with silent drones trailing suspiciously behind him. Turbo waited until the drones had stopped their following before he abruptly turned a corner, down a hidden hallway he had been through so many secret times before.
Daemon watched until Turbo had left the room. Again she smiled in her all-knowing way, even as she traced the direction he was heading. She was no two-bit being; she knew when she was being betrayed, and she knew how to bait someone to give her just the right information she needed.
The icon-follower on her organizer blipped as Turbo stopped at a room, and she received a reading. Daemon stood and motioned for her guards to follow her as she led the way to the communications chamber.
Turbo was such a bright mind. It would be a pity to lose that.
Turbo hunched over the console, his fingers moving like lightning across the keypad as he typed in Mainframe's address. The machine hummed, but it took a full millisecond to connect. Turbo took the time waiting to sort through his scrambled thoughts.
Daemon never took an interest in her minions; why, then, would she tell him all those things, her sure plans for Mainframe's destruction? Turbo had gone to great lengths to keep secret his alliance to the Mainframers, but he knew he wasn't that good!
"Incoming message from: Supercomputer. Incoming message from: Supercomputer." The green type flashed against the black screen. Bob quickly pressed the ENTER button, and Turbo's face, badly bruised and battle-weary, with the green Infection's veins pulsing weakly at his temples, shimmered into existence on the screen. The picture crackled and faded several times, but finally the connection held.
All the sprites and the two Protectors clustered around the screen, waiting for the message.
Bob's face appeared on the screen. Behind him stood Matrix and his sister Dot, as well the other inhabitants of Mainframe. "Turbo, what is it?" the Guardian asked.
"We've got news — bad news," the Prime snapped, not bothering with formalities. "Daemon has a plan — and a good one — to destroy Mainframe."
"How did you find this out?" Bob asked.
Yes, how? added Turbo's mind. It's not like Daemon to let information like that slip — you know that.
"Never mind how," Turbo snapped. "I didn't understand all of it — but she was talking about divide, render, conquer,' and —"
Frenzied thoughts were still chasing themselves through his head. You're not even very high up, his common sense argued. Daemon wouldn't give the information, unless she was planning to —
At that moment, both his speech and his thoughts stopped, because Turbo had finally realized what he hadn't been able to put his finger on before. His breath caught in his chest, but he didn't dare exhale, he was so frightened. He didn't need to turn around to know that Daemon and her infected Guardians stood at the doorway to the room; and judging from the *click* as one cocked his gun, Turbo knew he'd live longer if he stood still.
"Turbo, how could you betray us?" Daemon voice, hard with a falsely sweet edge, echoed through the room with its own authority.
Hands hauled him roughly from the console; one of the Guardians locked Turbo's arms behind him, as the other pressed the muzzle of his gun into the Prime Guardian's back.
Turbo fought against the panic rising in his chest; the Infection would just feed on it. Too late. The nano he processed that thought, the veins at his forehead clamped down hard, sending shoots of fire through his temples. He fought to look squarely at Daemon. "How?" he asked through clenched teeth.
Daemon stripped off her gloves and traced a finger along his chin. Turbo gasped as welts opened in his skin. Daemon just smiled and stroked the new injuries, making them burn viciously. Turbo swallowed a scream and tried to jerk away, but Daemon grabbed his chin in a steel grip and forced him to look at her.
"I'm not basic, Turbo. When Bertram returned from the search for 452, she told me that not only had she glimpsed you sneaking around the system, but you also were shooting on Bob's side! Now, that could only mean one thing: I was being betrayed. It took only a matter of time — and some drones to follow you around — for me to understand who you were giving my secret information to."
Turbo's head felt like it was on fire; his skin bubbled so excruciatingly he could hardly process a thought. "I — hate you," he managed. His voice cracked pitifully.
Daemon laughed. "Oh, is that all you can do? Pity; I wonder what I should expect from Bob, if his mentor is this weak." She released his chin abruptly. Turbo gasped in relief, then renewed pain, as the air stung at his face. Daemon replaced one glove and made her way over to the console.
"Ahh — Mainframe." Daemon leaned against the machine and smiled like a predator who has cornered the prey. "Such a wonderful system; but it has been so hard to take hold of. Now I owe you thanks, Turbo, for setting up a connection for me. Hello, my soon-to-be-slaves," she whispered. "I know you're in there; and in a little while I'll rule you all." She pressed a button, saving Mainframe's address; then Daemon shut off the communication systems. She turned back to Turbo.
"Too bad. I had high hopes for you being one of my independent generals." She tut-tutted mockingly, as Turbo glared at her, breathing hard. Daemon stepped back. "It looks like I can't depend on any thinking mind but my own. The only thing left now is for you to join us."
One of the Guardians pulled the trigger, and Turbo felt the force of the bullet hit him squarely in the back. He fell to his knees and glared up weakly at Daemon, standing over him. She grasped his head with her bare hand, as he cried out in pain; then her form started to blur and shimmer. Turbo didn't know if it was just pain, but he thought he saw her darken and grow taller. The middle-aged woman's form became that of a younger, more exotic-looking woman who exuded evil and hatred of sprites. Then Turbo knew he was seeing the true super-virus.
He looked up into her eyes and shivered; they were black holes, with a single piercing light of power. Turbo lurched back with a cry, but Daemon dug her fingers — no, claws — into his head, into his skull. Turbo screamed in agony as fires burst inside his head and his life force drained out of him into Daemon. Suddenly, Turbo's eyes became blank and dark. He went as stiff as a board and fell at her feet, his body outlined in a pool of energy.
The last thing Prime Guardian Turbo remembered was the look of pure malice that shone in the super-virus' eyes — the true Daemon.
"Turbo? Turbo!" Bob shouted, banging his fist on the console. "Turbo, answer me!"
But there was no answer. The window was covered with a network of green veins before the screen faded into total blackness.
Bob leaned against the wall, a defeated look on his face. Matrix swore under his breath. For they had just lost their one connection to the Supercomputer. And they knew that while they had lost a friend, Daemon had gained a new slave.
"And another one bites the dust," Rasta Mon remarked darkly.
Matrix turned from the window, his body rigid. "Is that all you can say?" he snarled at the Protectors. "Someone was just deleted trying to help us. Don't you care?"
"I understand the value of a life," Rasta Mon argued. "We both do. I was merely making a point; see what Daemon has done to the almighty Guardians, and their head? You have to work if you want to beat her."
"Can we take a break?" Dot asked wearily, holding a hand to her head. "We can just rest for a moment; think, plan . . ." She reached out her arm to Bob, but he ignored her, his face set.
"Those two are right, Dot. We can't take breaks in this war. The rest of the Net is depending on us to defeat Daemon. We have to take control and teach that super-virus a lesson."
"I wish I got him," Stripe murmured to Rasta Mon.
Dot ignored her Protector. She tried to hug Bob again, and he looked down, as if he had suddenly noticed her. "I'm sorry, Dot," he said, cupping her face in his hands. "I've got to go — go think. In fact, I'll go see if I can access any information as well." He swallowed and moved away from her, and he walked out the door.
Everyone's eyes turned to Dot, who looked as if she had been slapped. Slowly, a brisk mask replaced her hurt expression, and she said in a forced voice, "You heard Bob; a plan is what we need."
She absently turned her icon, rebooting into the tight leather jumpsuit she had sported during the war. She froze, realizing what she had done. Suddenly she felt faint.
"Dot?" Matrix asked in concern.
She shook her head. The war was back, and she was needed to be the commander. "Let's do it."
Everyone nodded, and they began to silently get to work, Turbo's deletion fresh in their minds as a consequence of what could come.
The mysterious baby passed from sprite to sprite in the few seconds after her discovery. The first to receive care of her were Matrix and AndrAIa, as the couple was moving into an apartment in the Twin City.
AndrAIa held the sleeping baby against her shoulder as she and Matrix stepped into their new home. The few binomes who had escorted them left the two to settle in, but Del remained, watching them expectantly.
"What do you think?" she asked as the two walked around, studying the small rooms.
"It's great —" AndrAIa started to say, but Del ignored her.
"Enzo?"
"Like AndrAIa said, it's great," Matrix replied. "Thanks a lot, Del."
The young woman smiled in satisfaction. "Glad to help." She zipped off, waving good-bye.
AndrAIa sat on the couch next to Matrix, shifting the baby to her other shoulder. Matrix glanced uneasily at the infant sprite as her black eyes fluttered open, and she opened her mouth.
"Hey, little one," AndrAIa cooed, rocking the baby gently. "Did you sleep well?" She put the baby in Matrix's arms, and he groaned.
"Do I have to, Dre?"
"Be a man, Matrix," she scolded. "Hold her and keep her happy while I go get something from the P.O. Oh, and take this," she added, handing him a towel.
"But — oh, crash it all," the renegade muttered. He set the baby in his lap with the towel so she wouldn't drool on him, and he stared ahead, with nothing to do.
The baby looked quizzically at the large sprite holding her silently. She wasn't used to having nothing going on around her, and she started to cry.
He winced at the sound. "No — shh, shh," Matrix muttered. "Stop it." He tried shifting positions, but it only increased the baby's crying.
She stopped crying and stared up at him, her face blotched. Then her chin started to tremble — Oh, spam, Matrix thought.
He lifted the baby onto his shoulder with the towel, and very lightly patted her back, but he was unsuccessful to quiet her. "AndrAIa!" he called helplessly.
AndrAIa stopped at the door with an aggravated sigh. "I'll be right back!" she shouted.
The baby reached her tiny hand toward his icon. "No, not that," Matrix said. Then, realizing it would probably get her to be quiet, he relented, "Fine."
The baby ran her hands over the shiny Guardian icon, giggling as her fingers kept sliding over the smooth surface. At least it keeps her quiet, Matrix thought gratefully. He rocked the baby gently for several milliseconds.
Ten milliseconds later, the door opened, and AndrAIa came into the room, carrying a data-log and a bottle of milk for the baby. When she saw Matrix cautiously rocking the baby in his arms, she laughed out loud. He turned his head to glare at her.
"I don't believe it," she laughed, taking a seat next to him; "the almighty renegade, who survived the Games and fought infected Guardians and Megabyte, can't take care of one little baby."
"Laugh it up," he muttered. "Will you take her already?"
AndrAIa took the baby into her arms and stuck the bottle in her mouth. The baby's eyelids drooped, and she grabbed the bottle with her tiny hands as she drank the milk.
"You see, she was just hungry," AndrAIa explained. When the baby had drunk her fill, the game sprite set the bottle beside her. She lifted the baby onto her shoulder and gently patted her back until she burped. "There we go — all right," AndrAIa soothed, smiling.
"Where'd you learn all that?" Matrix asked. The look in AndrAIa's eyes when she watched the baby made him uneasy.
AndrAIa was looking down at the drowsy baby as she answered. "Someone taught it to me in a system." She glanced up at him and smiled. "You two looked like you were getting along; at least, for a few milliseconds."
Matrix shrugged, not looking at the baby. "I don't think babies like me."
"That's not true!" AndrAIa laughed. She rocked the baby until she fell back asleep, then AndrAIa looked back to her lover. "Admit it, Enzo — she looks cute when she's asleep."
Matrix glanced at the little sprite, with her thumb in her mouth and a peaceful look on her small face. Reluctantly, he agreed, "You're right."
"Just think," AndrAIa continued, "if we could have a child of our own. . . ."
"Don't start that again," Matrix pleaded. It seemed every minute they were having this discussion, of starting a family. "Look, Dre, I just don't think I'd make a good father."
"I think you would," the game sprite replied quietly.
Matrix didn't have an answer to that; so he just held AndrAIa close.
Someone knocked loudly on Bob's door. He slid out from under his car and took off his headphones, then made his way through the garage to his door.
"Hey, AndrAIa," he greeted the game sprite. Then he looked at the baby she held. "Is it my turn?"
"It is," she replied, handing him the baby, along with her towel and bottle. Before she left, she turned back around and asked, "Bob, are you sure you can handle her?"
He frowned. "Of course, she's just a little baby — Oh, did Matrix have trouble?"
AndrAIa nodded, fighting to keep a smile off her face. "He did. But after that ten milliseconds, he and the baby got on pretty well."
"Well, I'll be fine," Bob told her. "I don't think they taught childcare at the Guardian Academy, but I'll make do. Thanks, AndrAIa."
The game sprite waved and left.
Shaking his head, Bob went to the living room. "I'm a Guardian, of course I can take care of one toddler," he muttered to himself. "Jeez . . . wait a nano," he said, looking down at the baby. "Toddler? But yesterday she was —" He shook his head. "I don't get it."
The baby was awake, staring at her new caretaker.
"Hello," Bob said, talking in a sweet, baby-talk-voice to her, "let's get you a nice comfy place to rest."
He had no crib in his apartment (having never found the need for one), so Bob set the baby on the couch and created a little force field around her with his keytool powers. The baby giggled, enjoying it.
"Now, you just stay there," Bob said. He went into the garage, leaving the door open. He slipped his headphones back on and went under his car as he resumed tinkering.
"It's a beautiful cycle in the neighborhood, a wonderful cycle for a neighbor — will you be mine, will you be —"
"WAAHHH!"
Bob ran in. "What is it? What's wrong?" His eyes swept the room, until he found the baby, still in her force field on the couch, wailing at the talking television in front of her.
Bob's eyes narrowed in irritation. "Mike. . . ." he growled, advancing on the appliance.
Mike the TV backed up several steps as the Guardian approached, switching his screen from the children's program to his face. "I was just trying to help — she doesn't like Mr. Spacer's Neighborhood, or anything!"
"Just go, Mike," Bob said. Obediently, the television fled.
"Hey, it's okay," Bob soothed, taking the baby out of the force field and setting her on his knee, as he reached for the bottle. When he tried to feed her, the baby swatted the bottle away, and it spilled on the carpet.
"Let's try that again," Bob muttered, picking up the bottle while holding the baby with his other arm. The second time wasn't any better than the first; the baby just wouldn't take the bottle.
Bob ran a hand through his hair and sighed deeply. Thankfully, the baby had stopped crying when Mike left. Bob set her back on the couch and put the force field around her, but she looked so unhappy he couldn't just leave her by herself.
"What's wrong with you?" he murmured. "What is it you want?"
She reached out with her hands, her tiny fingers grabbing at the air.
"A toy?" Bob guessed. "That must be it — but where do I have toys?"
He searched around the apartment and finally came up with a small blue teddy bear dressed in a Guardian uniform. He returned to the living room, where the baby was watching him silently.
"Here you go," Bob said, handing her the stuffed bear.
The baby grabbed onto the bear and started sucking on its head. Feeling very pleased with himself, Bob returned to the garage.
Bob let out a sigh of relief. His turn was over, and now some other sprite could take care of the baby.He portaled himself to the Mainframe docks, where Ship was parked, and he knocked on the hatch.
Mouse opened the hatch; but when she saw Bob holding the baby, she looked about to close it again.
"Here you go, Mouse," Bob said, handing her the baby and her towel, bottle, and bear. He had to fight to hide his smile at the look of annoyance — and helplessness — on Mouse's face.
"Hey, Bob," Ray called as he surfed in.
The Guardian nodded. "Your turn," he called back.
Ray looked at the baby and at Mouse — and he had to turn his head to hide his smile. "Pixelacious," he groaned.
Mouse gave Bob a pleading look, but he held up his hands and said, "Hey, I had to take care of her for two micros; so did Matrix and AndrAIa. It's only fair."
"Don't worry, love," Ray added, putting an arm around Mouse's shoulders. "I'll help you with her."
WARNING: INCOMING GAME. WARNING: INCOMING GAME.
Bob grinned at the descending Game cube. "I've been called. See you guys later" and he created a portal to G Prime.
"So, love," Ray asked as they stepped into Ship, "have you ever taken care of a li'l one before?"
Mouse rolled her eyes. "Me, Sugah? Never. Ah don' really like kids. Ugh," she groaned, as she hefted the baby onto her shoulder.
Mouse had set up a small playpen in Ship's front; but away from the controls — she wasn't going to have a mischievous little baby mess up her ship's flight. She set the baby down amidst the boxes and blankets and settled in the pilot's seat; Ray sat in the copilot's chair. The baby was very happy in her new environment, and she played with the teddy bear Bob had given her.
"Well, what are we s'posed ta do, while she plays?" Mouse wondered, leaning forward in her chair to look at the baby.
Ray caught her arm; Mouse turned to him questioningly.
"I can think of one thing . . ." he offered slyly, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. Mouse grinned and let him lean all the way forward to kiss her.
Meanwhile, the baby was watching the two adults ignoring her. She dropped her bear over the side of the box and began to whimper.
Mouse and Ray broke away from the kiss, wondering what had interrupted them. She noticed the bear and retrieved it for the baby, but the little sprite didn't acknowledge the return of her toy.
"I think she's lonely," Ray said. Mouse looked to him, and he shrugged. "Here you go, little one," he continued, picking up the baby and setting her on his leg. She giggled and reached for his goggles — "No, not those," Ray said, lifting his head out of her reach. The baby frowned slightly, but she took the bear back and sucked on it again.
"By the way, Mouse," Ray asked, "does she look bigger to you?"
Mouse took the baby into her arms and studied her. "You're right," she said, frowning in puzzlement. "Only thing is, we don' know how old she was when we first found her; or maybe we'd be able ta figure out how old she really is."
The baby reached forward and tugged on Mouse's hair — hard.
"No!" the hacker ordered. She quickly put the baby back in her playpen, glaring at her; the baby, for her part, stared back with a sulky pout.
"Ah really don' like kids," Mouse muttered. She turned to her controls and fiddled with a few buttons.
Ray watched over Mouse's shoulder for a millisecond, then he turned his attention back to the baby.
Unfortunately, there wasn't a baby to watch.
"Mouse!"
The hacker turned back. "What's wrong now?"
"The baby's gone!" Ray said, pointing at the empty mound of blankets and the box pushed aside.
Mouse swore under her breath. "Well, don't just stand there! You look over there, and Ah'll look here." They set to frantically searching Ship.
"It's a small ship — she couldn't have gone anywhere," Ray reasoned, as he looked in-between big pieces of machinery.
Someone giggled behind him, and Ray whirled around to see the baby's back as she raced away from him.
"There she is!" he yelled, sprinting after her.
"Where?" Mouse called.
"In the back!" Ray replied, as he speeded up. The baby was just in front of him now.
Mouse appeared around a corner, directly in the baby's path. But the little sprite turned and ran to the left, and both adults had to change direction after her.
The baby loved the chase; she laughed as she dodged the two larger sprites trying to catch her. The game lasted for several milliseconds, and after a while, her caretakers began to get tired.
Ray stopped for a nano, breathing hard. The baby peeked around from behind a machine and cautiously made her way over. While he was catching his breath, she stepped onto his Baud, lying on the ground. He twitched involuntarily, and she jumped off the Baud and kept running.
Mouse rushed after her. She was getting very irritated, having to chase a little baby — and when could the thing walk, anyway?
Finally, she saw the baby. "Gotcha," she said, grabbing the little sprite and bringing her back to the front of the ship. Ray joined her, looking as exhausted as she.
"Kids are too energetic for me," he groaned.
Mouse could only nod. She looked down at their charge and noted with a smile that the baby was asleep, no doubt worn out by the long chase. "Thank the User," she whispered, with a slight nod to the dozing child.
Ray smiled and kissed Mouse on the cheek, then smoothed back her tousled hair. "You did great, love."
The baby smiled in her sleep and tugged again on Mouse's hair. She bit back a curse, only keeping it in when she saw the look of contentment on the baby's face.
The baby only woke once, for some milk. Then, at 1800, Mouse and Ray's shift was over, and it was time to go to the Diner.
Enzo shifted his arms; the baby was really heavy, and even heavier when she was held in the same position for several milliseconds. "I can't believe Mouse and Ray said she was trouble. Look at her, she's so quiet and peaceful when she's asleep."
Dot listened from where she was fixing them a small dinner. Mouse and Ray had dropped off the baby, with a short explanation of the event they had shared with the baby. "She may be peaceful now, Enzo, but judging from what Mouse and Ray told us — plus what I heard from Bob and Matrix — she's a handful. Come over here and eat some dinner."
Enzo sat with Dot at the small table, while she set up a highchair for the baby. They ate in silence.
"How's school?" Dot asked.
Enzo shrugged. "It's all right. How're the plans against Daemon?"
Dot's expression darkened. "They're . . . all right."
Enzo yearned to ask more about the plans against the super-virus; but the look on Dot's face told him it wouldn't be a good time to mention Daemon. He remembered, with an uncharacteristic sadness, hearing about the deletion of Turbo last second. Even he realized that Daemon was going to be harder to beat than Megabyte ever was.
As Dot cleaned up, Enzo picked up the baby again and set her down next to him on the floor. He held the bear in front of her, while she grabbed for it.
The baby fell back on her bitmap and grinned at the boy. "`Zo . . . Enzo," she gurgled.
He jerked back in shock. "Dot! She just said my name!"
Dot frowned and kneeled next to him. "That's not possible, Enzo. She's only been with us for about three seconds."
"But I heard her say it!" he protested. He took the baby back into his arms and said, "Come on, say it again. Say Enzo!"
Dot smiled at his impatience. "Enzo, babies don't just say things when you want them to."
"Aww, but Dot —" Enzo suddenly sniffed, and his expression twisted into one of utter disgust. "C-P-U! She smells!"
Dot put her head in her hand and laughed at her brother's reaction. "Enzo, she's a baby — it's one of the main things she does, besides eating and sleeping. Here, give her to me." Enzo willingly surrendered the baby to Dot.
She carried the baby over to the counter and began to change her diaper. Enzo stayed in his spot; but he watched Dot more interestedly than the baby. "How come you know so much about taking care of babies?" he asked.
Dot smiled at him. "After Mom was deleted, and Dad threw himself into his work, Del and I were the only ones who could really take care of you. I took care of you most of the time; and once in a while, I left you at Mainframe's Principle Office, with Phong."
"Oh." Suddenly, Enzo felt a surge of guilt. He had burdened Dot so much when he was little — so much that she had spent almost all her time taking care of him! "I'm sorry," he said in a low voice.
"Oh, Enzo!" Dot came over with the newly cleaned baby and hugged her little brother tightly. "Don't be sorry; I loved to take care of you, and I still do, even when you're nearly 1.0." She spun his cap, as his face slowly broke into a smile.
"You know," Enzo began, "if you're taking care of the baby, Dot, I know she'll turn out great."
Dot smiled. "Thank you, Bro."
Phong received the last shift, which lasted for the night and the next morning.
The old sprite was closing the last doors inside the Principle Office when he heard a cry from the room where he had left the baby. He quickly rolled inside.
The baby lay in her crib, with the blankets flung aside. She was chewing on one fist, her eyes wide and attentive.
"Hello, my child," Phong said, lifting her out of the crib. "What troubles you? Are you lonely?"
The baby sniffled.
"And you can't sleep." Phong sighed. "Well, neither can I. But I know what can do the trick."
He carried the baby into his office, where he had a small kitchen. He set her in a chair and went to fixing her a bottle of warm milk, and a mug of cocoa for himself. When it was ready and had cooled, he gave her the bottle. The baby gleefully drank the warm milk; Phong sat beside her and sipped his cocoa.
"We are very happy to have you here," he told her in soft, gentle tones. He sighed, looking much older. "I only wish you do not have to grow up in a system at war with Daemon. Nevertheless, your arrival has been a joy in all of the darkness. Hmm — what's that, little one?"
The baby was lightly snoring; the milk had done its work.
Phong carefully took her back to her room and gently set her in her crib. He tucked her in and laid a hand on her head for a nano, watching the peace in her small form. Then he quietly closed the door and went back to his office.
"Sleep well, my children."
The next second, which was four seconds after Enzo had found her, he, Bob, and Dot came to the Principle Office looking for the baby.
"Ah, good morning, my children," Phong greeted them as he rolled into the room, sipping a cup of hot cocoa.
"Hi, Phong," Dot replied. "Where's the baby?"
"She is not here," Phong replied calmly.
They stared at him in horror.
"I gave her to Hack and Slash to watch," Phong continued.
A look of panic passed through the group, and they rushed out of the room.
They found Hack and Slash, arguing over something. The baby was nowhere to be seen.
"Hey," Bob called. When the `bots failed to hear him, he tried again. When they kept arguing, he roared, "Hey!"
Both `bots turned. "Yes, Bob?"
"Where is she?"
"Who?"
"I think he means Dot."
"But Dot is right here. Maybe he means AndrAIa."
"Hmm. AndrAIa is in the Twin City. What about Mouse?"
"I do not know, maybe she is —"
"Mouse isn't here," Dot put in. "Where's the baby?"
"Oh! The baby!" they both exclaimed.
"Gee, I don't know."
"We were watching her right here."
"I was reading her a story."
"She cried a lot."
"Where did she go?" Dot snapped impatiently.
They pointed opposite ways; then they fixed their directions and pointed to the left.
"That way," Hack said. "She just went —"
"–And then we started to argue —"
"What were we arguing about again?"
The sprites didn't wait. They zipped out the door and went in the direction that the `bots had pointed.
"Oh, great," Bob moaned as they touched down on Lost Angles, "just great."
"This is very bad!" Enzo cried. "Why'd she have to go to Lost Angles? It's a fate worse than deletion!"
They traveled quickly through the sector, thrown around by the chaotic tunnels and doorways. About to give up, they appeared outside of Hexadecimal's lair. Up above them, the virus hovered, holding a small figure — the baby.
"Okay, I was wrong," Enzo stated shakily. "That is a fate worse than deletion!"
Hex came down, and she put the baby down. Looking bigger than the last second and wearing a small red outfit, the baby clung to Hex's legs, her black eyes wide and attentive. Hex gently put a hand on the baby's shoulder, her face showing a look of pure joy.
"Hex," Bob said slowly, "what are you doing?"
The virus looked up at the sprites, her mouth curved in a smile. "Little Tessa was being a perfectly chaotic nuisance; what a little angel."
"Tessa?" Dot repeated.
"Yes. Tessa." Hex gestured at the baby still clinging to her legs. "Short for Tessali." Hex's eyes narrowed, and now she looked fierce. "Do you have a problem with that?"
"Ah, no," Bob replied quickly. "It's okay, Hex — Tessa is a really good name."
"Good. I'll be looking after Tessa from now on," Hex said.
"Are you sure?"
Hex smiled at the baby. "Of course. She loves it here, anyway." Tessa gurgled in agreement. Hex smiled lovingly, and the two of them disappeared into her lair.
Enzo watched them go, his face showing mild disappointment. "I was the one who found her," he grumbled.
"Don't worry, Enzo," Dot said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "C'mon."
As they zipped away from Lost Angles, Enzo said, "Hey, wasn't Tessa, like, one hour old yesterday?"
Bob frowned. "She was. . . . We'd better ask Mouse about that."
"Ray and Ah noticed it, too," Mouse said. Bob, Dot, and Enzo stood in the doorway to the room she worked in. The hacker sat on a box as she explained. "If ya think about it, she's only been here fer a couple o' seconds; she looks only a couple o' hours old."
"But how could something like this happen?" Dot asked. "It's not normal for a sprite to compile up that fast."
Mouse shrugged. "Ya got me. Since we can't really do anything about it, mah idea is we just check on her once in a while and see how she's doin' — and how old she looks ta be."
"That will be a problem," Bob said, grimacing. "Hex just took full custody of the baby — and she named her Tessa."
"Tessa, huh? It works. . . . We should still try and see how she's doin'."
The three sprites nodded and left.
"Will Tessa be all right, Dot?" Enzo asked, his eyes wide and concerned.
Dot placed a hand on her brother's shoulder. "Of course, Enzo. It's just . . . we've never dealt with anything like this before." One of many things we've never dealt with before. . . .
AndrAIa rolled over in the sheets, her eyes closed in peaceful sleep. She awoke slowly, yawning, and reached for her lover. When she found only the empty sheets, she sat up. AndrAIa looked around the new apartment, but Matrix was nowhere to be seen.
AndrAIa dressed and went downstairs. Outside, she met Del, who was preparing to zip to Mainframe.
"Morning, Del. Have you seen Enzo?" AndrAIa asked.
"Matrix? Oh, Harm invited him out for guy things; to talk, I guess. He left earlier."
"Oh," AndrAIa said. "Thanks."
Del smiled and nodded. The falsely cheerful way she treated the Mainframers showed AndrAIa that Dot's best friend didn't yet trust them. Puzzling over that, as well as several other things, AndrAIa left for Mainframe.
"Morning, Andi," Kode greeted her at the Diner. "Where's Matrix?"
"With a friend from the Twin City," she answered.
"Which leaves you alone for the second," Kode finished. He raised a dark eyebrow. "Come on, you know I'm right."
"I never said you weren't," AndrAIa replied with a small smile.
Kode grinned and put an arm around her. AndrAIa politely shrugged it off, thinking that he was pushing his luck.
Kode was unfazed. "What do you say we go see a .mov or something today?"
AndrAIa smiled regretfully, though it was only a mask. "Sorry, I think Mouse needs me to help her today."
Kode shrugged. "Fine. I'll escort you to the P.O."
As they were exiting the Diner, they met Dot on her way upstairs. "Hey, AndrAIa . . . Kode," she added after a small pause. "You're off to the Principle Office? See you later."
They waved and zipped off. Dot shook her head and began accessing VidWindows while she opened her organizer.
Bob sighed as he and Dot walked from the Principle Office to the Diner later that second. "You see, Dot; you should listen to me more often, and have more breaks."
"If I listened to you more often, we wouldn't get anything done," Dot teased, kissing him on the cheek.
Bob tightened his arm around her. He leaned over to kiss her, when someone behind him called, "Dot?"
Dot turned, and Bob found himself facing air. "Hey, Del," she called to her friend.
Del came forward, maneuvering between Bob and Dot so that the two women walked together. "You won't believe what I just found out —"
They walked off, gossiping like teenagers — which Del wasn't much older than, Bob thought — leaving the confused Guardian standing alone.
He shook his head, frowning. "What in the Net just happened. . . ." he murmured to himself as he started walking again.