CHAPTER SIX
A BEAUTIFUL DAY IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD, PART 2
Following Bob's sense of direction and aided by his memories of the Supercomputer, the three Mainframers soon came upon a bar that was only a couple of blocks from the shipyard through which they had arrived. A few small skiffs had been docked outside the bar's entrance. Through the blurred windows, the shapes of sprites were dark shadows against dusky indoor lights.
"I've got experience with these kind of places," Matrix assured his friends, but AndrAIa groaned. Matrix strode right in without a second glance. Bob and AndrAIa, however, paused to take another look around before hurrying in after him.
"We shouldn't let him take leadership," AndrAIa whispered to Bob. "Last time he went into a bar, he shot up the whole place." She rolled her eyes tiredly.
The three of them were silent, however, upon entering the bar. They tried to act as the other sprites and binomes did, blending into the shadows. The three sprites, taking pains not to move together as a group, paused by the bar and surveyed the citizens who sat at various tables sipping their liquors and talking in low voices.
"Where would our informant be?" AndrAIa murmured to Bob without taking her gaze away from the other customers. "Do we know what he looks like?"
"Not exactly," Bob answered out of the corner of his mouth. "But I've got it covered. Follow me." He began to walk away from the bar. After a moment, AndrAIa followed. She tossed her head to the side, signaling Matrix to follow. Reluctant to go by someone else's plan, he nevertheless left the bar and headed in the same direction the two were going.
Bob led them to a particularly dark table in the far corner of the bar. Some sprites and two binomes sat playing a game of cards and exchanging comments. When they noticed three strangers heading their way, they immediately grew alert and focused all their attention on the newcomers.
"Whaddaya want?" growled a yellow-skinned sprite with a scar running over his bald head.
Matrix made his tone match the roughness of the other sprite's. "We're looking for a guide."
"Can't be too careful, what with that super-virus around," Bob added. "We gotta stay frosty, if you know what I mean," he said, carefully stressing the words.
Something in the sprite's expression changed, as he recognized Bob and realized whom he was dealing with. He looked over them again, more carefully, as did the others at the table. "First time here?"
"Yes," AndrAIa put in. She leaned forward, pretending not to notice as the other sprites' eyes all focused at chest-level. She continued in a sweet voice, "We need a sprite who knows the lay of the land — all of it."
The bald sprite looked up at Bob, who narrowed his eyes slightly in affirmation. The sprite grunted. "Well, missy, when you put it like that — I'm sure we could find someone to help you," he grinned, revealing missing teeth. "I'd be glad to show you around."
After saying some good-byes, the yellow sprite left the table. The group of four slowly pushed their way past other customers to the doorway.
"Where'd you get him?" Matrix murmured out of the corner of his mouth to Bob. The two men lagged a few yards behind AndrAIa and the yellow-skinned sprite.
Bob shrugged nonchalantly. "I've had dealings with . . . some shady sprites during my time in the Supercomputer. He's not infected, though; he doesn't work for either side." He flashed a grin. "Just to be safe, I gave him our aliases; wouldn't want Daemon finding out. . . ."
Bob and Matrix quickened their pace to catch up with their guide and AndrAIa. The yellow sprite was talking to AndrAIa, wearing a grin that made Matrix feel less than comfortable. "Now, what would a pretty sprite like yerself be doin' in this dirty old place?" he asked AndrAIa with a not-so-concealed look up and down her figure.
Matrix growled under his breath. AndrAIa shot him a warning look, but her voice was light and airy as she chided, "Lighten up, Max." The stern look said very clearly: Don't give any indication to our relationship. AndrAIa, or Lara, looked back to the yellow sprite and smiled charmingly, having caught on to their roles in this charade. "We've got some business here, is all. It's a dirty job —"
"–but somebody's gotta do it," their guide agreed, then chortled. "In that case, I'm Nuker. Best in my work. I know this place like the back of my hand in pitch-black night even if I'm drunk." AndrAIa grinned, but she could figure that Nuker's description probably happened often.
Bob looked to Nuker. "What's been happening recently in the Supercomputer?"
Nuker opened his mouth to ask why some lowly mercenaries would be interested in such happenings, but at the last moment he thought better of it and instead answered Bob's question. "Couple minutes ago, this rich lady Isna Radius went missin'. They searched the whole Supercomputer, but nobody could find her. They even checked ships goin' out-system, but there was no sign of her.
"Stories pass around on the streets, and people said that Isna was still at her home. What a stupid idea, huh? But about a minute after Isna's disappearance, there was a huge explosion in her mansion. There was a bunch of data, too, like the size of a pool — it flooded the streets for seconds and even messed up some low houses in the process. People said that Isna was in her house till that night, but now she's gone for sure.
"And it's not the first time. See, lots of rich sprites have been disappearin', fer nearly an hour — but as far as I know, they've all been women. There was a lot of time between each one, of course, but eventually, ya turn on the news and hear about another woman gone missing, with no reason at all. Now, the people I drink with" — and here Nuker glanced to the left and to the right, just to make sure there was no one else listening — "say it's all the work of Daemon. They say she's kidnapping all the wealthy ladies and deleting them so she can get power in the Supercomputer. Yeah," he sighed, "it's only a matter of time before the rich and powerful are deleted, and Daemon will annihilate the rest of us; the lowly, the unprotected."
They had been walking for almost half a microsecond, now. They hadn't gotten a ship to ride for two reasons: there had been no ships in sight, and even if they had found one, the Mainframers hadn't wanted to attract any more attention.
Nuker paused in his tracks and looked around them. "Now we're in the middle of the average' district," their guide announced. "So, where's your destination?" he asked. "You got business with any of the remainin' rich sprites — or even some middle-class citizens?"
"Actually," Bob replied, "we're going inside the Guardian Academy."
Nuker's light yellow skin paled even further, and his eyes widened in shock. "D'you work for . . . Daemon, then?" he accused, almost stuttering in his fear. "Wouldn't be a surprise, what with all the control she's got over the Net. You going to collect some sorta reward? Is that why you're here?" he demanded apprehensively, all the while edging backwards.
"No, no, we're not working for her," Bob tried to assure Nuker. "It's . . . I can't explain about it. But we're not going to endanger you or your friends."
Nuker raised an eyebrow skeptically. "The old Academy is Daemon's main control spot, I hope you know," he informed them. "It's deletion to go in there." He took another two steps backward.
"I know," Bob replied ruefully; "that's what a friend said. Look, Nuker, we don't mean you any harm. We just needed your help getting around; now we're going to go into the Academy. Here," he said, tossing Nuker fifty units, ". . . and thanks."
"You're random," Nuker told them with another shake of his head, but he kept the payment. He sighed, then turned and pointed to the south. "We're at the edge of Sector 6; the Academy is way, way back in Sector 8. If you keep going straight for awhile, you're bound to find it.
"Well, thanks for the fun, but I'm not goin' any further," Nuker told them again. He raised the fist that clutched the units. Shaking it, he said, "I'm gonna get myself a nice drink and remember the good seconds. That's what you guys should do too." With that, the bald sprite turned and left the three Mainframers in the alley.
Bob sighed. "I didn't expect him to take us any farther. I could've gotten us to the Academy myself. We just needed to know some recent events so we can figure this out. All right, I know the way; just follow me, and keep close." The three sprites turned and headed for the next two sectors, with Bob in the lead. At first they didn't talk, each caught up in private thoughts. Then Matrix spoke up.
"So, it looks like Daemon's been taking hosts for a while, like Hexadecimal said," he supplied.
"And a certain kind: wealthy females," AndrAIa put in. "That makes sense, as she's female. But why would she need hosts anyway?"
Bob halted; the other two did as well, still formulating theories.
Matrix shrugged in reply to AndrAIa's question. "Thing is, if she's got all these hosts and these houses in the Supercomputer, she's probably really powerful." AndrAIa nodded grimly.
Bob hadn't spoken for almost a millisecond. "Bob? What is it?" Matrix asked, squinting in the dusk to see Bob's face.
"We're here," Bob answered, his voice soft; not with the awe he would usually hold for the sight of the Guardian Academy, but rather an emotion akin to horror.
The Guardian Academy had been hit the most with Daemon's Infection; the building had suffered countless scorch marks from the first battles over it, and those wormy green growths that were undoubtedly Daemon's crawled up the Academy's walls. Bob felt an awful feeling to throw up claw at his stomach and slither up his throat. Just seeing the Academy and the ruin it now was made his stomach churn and his energy boil. There wasn't a shred of the Guardians' initiative left in the imposing building. It had all been scraped away by Daemon's power, leaving a collapsed shell of Bob's childhood and all that he had grown up to believe in.
Matrix and AndrAIa stood beside Bob in reverent silence. After about a millisecond, Matrix cautiously placed his hand on the Guardian's shoulder. "Bob — are you okay?"
Bob shut his eyes and reluctantly reopened them to stare once again at the wreckage. The queasy feeling had fled, and now all he felt was burning rage toward Daemon. He swore in his core-com that the super-virus would pay for what she had done.
"I'm ready," Bob answered quietly.
AndrAIa looked from Matrix to Bob and squeezed each sprite's hand encouragingly. The meaning of her action was clear: It was just the three of them now. They could only rely on one another, and they would have to work together in order to carry out the plan.
Bob sized up where they presently stood in relation to the rest of the Academy. A fifteen-foot stone wall rose in front of them and continued in each direction for several feet. "We're actually at the back of the Academy," he began to explain in a quiet voice.
He crept against the wall and cautiously turned the corner. "Come here," he whispered. When AndrAIa and Matrix stood beside Bob, he pointed out what he saw: Two Guardians stood guard at the Academy's back doors, guns in hand.
Matrix opened his mouth to speak, but Bob beat him to it. "We won't go past those guards now; we don't want to risk any of them calling for help at the very beginning of the plan. See this wall?" he continued. "We're at the back of the Academy; and this is the entrance to the training grounds. He crept back along the left side of the wall for several yards, with his companions trailing close behind.
They soon came to an entrance ten feet wide. Bob turned back to the others and explained, "Here are the training grounds." He pointed inside the wall. "If you go straight, you get to the doors of the dorms. That's where we want to go. If we can get through there, we can eventually get into the main Academy without any sprite being the wiser." He grinned in a self-congratulatory way.
They sneaked through the entrance and into the training grounds, always keeping close to the walls. The guards at the back doors didn't take notice at all. Once, a Guardian who was stationed at one of the building's huge spires thought he caught sight of something. The three sprites pressed themselves into the gray shadows, holding their breaths until the watchman's light passed over and past their hiding place. When it was safe again, they continued to slide against the walls.
After an agonizingly slow time, they came upon two large wooden doors. Using combined strength, they opened one of the heavy doors and slipped inside, carefully letting the door close in silence.
"We're on the first floor of the students' dorms," Bob supplied. "The students have four floors, and the teachers have the fifth." He fell silent for several moments, and Matrix and AndrAIa glanced around nervously, thinking he had heard something. But another breathless moment later, Bob opened his eyes and smiled. "I'm using Glitch to construct a map of this place," he reassured them. While he concentrated, Matrix and AndrAIa surveyed the first floor from the doorway.
The students' dorms seemed to have been somewhat spared in any attacks, but it had still been ransacked. The adult-size beds were stacked neatly against the walls, but the sheets and pillows had been hastily folded against one end of each bed. There were three dressers for clothes in the corners of the room, and these had been cracked and damaged. This room was dark, like the others they had seen; and so they almost stumbled onto the danger before them if it hadn't been for AndrAIa.
"Hold on, boys," she said, as Bob lifted his foot to enter the room. Remaining in the doorway, he looked at AndrAIa questioningly.
"There's something . . . wriggling . . . on the floor," AndrAIa told them, but her voice carried a note of puzzlement.
Bob and Matrix knew to trust AndrAIa's instincts; especially her sense of sight, what with these poor-lit rooms. Bob raised his hand, and a beam of light appeared and spread its illumination over the floor before them.
"Oh, my," AndrAIa murmured, and Matrix's expression twisted into revulsion. Slimy, bright green vines slithered up the gray walls and snaked over the beds. They twisted around the beds' frames and dug into the mattresses to the point that each bunk looked filled with the growths. Worse yet, they pulsed the same sickly yellow-green tone of Daemon's Infection.
"They look like a houseplant gone out of control," Matrix commented, though his expression looked as nauseous as the looks on the others' faces.
Bob let out a bit of Glitch-energy, probing the growths to figure out what exactly they were. What he received was a shock that seemed to reach inside his bones and send an uncomfortable shiver through him. "Don't touch them," Bob quickly ordered.
Matrix turned his head towards Bob. "You know what these things are?"
"Not exactly," Bob answered with a shrug. "But they're not right, that's for sure."
"How do we get through here, then?" Matrix questioned.
"I can make a shield with Glitch's energy," Bob suggested.
AndrAIa shook her head. "You need to conserve your energy; we don't know what we might be going against."
"But we need to get through without touching these things," Matrix reminded her.
"That's easy," AndrAIa said. "We just have to be very careful." As Bob and Matrix watched, she cautiously stepped into the dimly lit room. Taking care to tread on uncovered parts of the floor, she slowly made her way across the room. AndrAIa turned back to her companions and pointed at a stairway a couple feet away from where she stood. "If we can make it up on that, we can get to the next floor," she told them.
Bob was the next to venture into the infected room. He followed the same trail AndrAIa had, but he had his hands out in front of him, ready to zap anything with his Glitch powers. He made it to the small alcove with AndrAIa. With great pains, Matrix brought up the rear, acting as alert as Bob had been; his hand twitched anxiously over Gun.
Now the three started up the stairway. As they emerged onto the second floor, a young cadet crouched by the window suddenly bolted up and pointed a gun at them.
"Don't move!" the cadet barked. The Mainframers wouldn't have, even if the boy hadn't been aiming his weapon directly at them; they had been shocked into no movement. The infected Guardian who stared them down was barely 1.1 hours old.
"Help on the second floor!" the cadet screamed, not taking his eyes off his enemies.
AndrAIa suddenly darted forward, as swiftly as lightning. Catching the boy off guard, she pinned his arms behind him and sank her nails into the side of his neck. She released the sprite and let his body crumple to the ground. When she looked back to her comrades, her eyes were wider than usual, and she didn't speak.
Matrix swallowed once and took a few nanoseconds to study the prone figure at their feet. An inferno of thoughts swirled through his head at that moment, headed by one nagging question: What if I had gone to the Academy when I was 1.0? He turned away and murmured, though no one could understand what he said, "That could have been me."
They proceeded through the room in silence. The furnishings in this floor were nearly identical to the first; nothing here seemed to be different.
Two shots whizzed past their heads and gouged chunks out of the wall. Matrix and AndrAIa immediately twisted around and whipped out their respective weapons, while Bob readied himself to use his Glitch powers.
A Guardian much older than the cadet they had just faced had entered from another room. The Guardian rained blast after blast on the three sprites. He ducked behind the door to swiftly reload his gun, and then he spun back around the door to continue his ambush.
When the infected Guardian was in full sight, Matrix aimed Gun at the sprite's chest. Before he could shoot, Bob elbowed him in the side. His shot went awry and struck the Guardian's left shoulder. The sprite stumbled back and dropped the gun, which went clattering across the floor.
Matrix's eye burned with rage. "Bob, why'd you —" he started indignantly.
"Don't. Shoot. The. Guardian," Bob ordered, his voice as hard as steel. "You never shoot any Guardian." Matrix swallowed angrily and looked back to their enemy.
Somehow, the sprite had regained his footing. He dived across the floor to where his dropped weapon lay. Picking the gun up again, in his right hand now, he flipped to his feet and shot at the others.
Bob shot a ray of Glitch-energy at the Guardian. He flew back and hit the wall, hard. He slid to the ground in a heap. To the Mainframers' horror, the Guardian began to push himself back up again. His hand groped for the gun, which he had dropped for a second time, while he began to regain his balance. The veins at his temples pulsed more strongly, and he pointed his gun at the sprites.
"There's nothing here!" Bob shouted to the others. "Let's go!" As the Guardian sent more bullets their way, the three rounded the staircase they had just come up, and they skipped down the stairs back to the first infected floor. The Guardian hurried noisily after them.
Sensing the quick movement, the green vines snapped at their ankles, but each sprite safely avoided the growths. Bob ran to a different doorway and wrenched that door open. They bounded through it and shut it hard. From the other side, they could hear the Guardian pounding on the door, and his muffled curses.
"We're in the middle of the Academy, but we don't have much time," Bob panted. They raced down a hallway. Identical doors that led to classrooms were open on either side, but they passed on by and kept racing for the front exit.
Unfortunately, the second Guardian who had come after them hadn't been alone. The sound of pounding footfalls began to make itself known behind them. A low rumbling began to sound through the walls all around them, like an army of soldiers racing towards the sprites.
Ten Guardians rounded the corner on their right and began raining shots on the good guys. But the three sprites had taken this into consideration, and they had added body armor to their disguises for any bullets that might hit. Still, they wouldn't be protected forever. They ran on, with the Guardians keeping up the chase.
AndrAIa whipped her head around, searching for an escape. "How do they know we're here?" she demanded as they ran.
As they fled, Bob used Glitch to again make a map in his mind of where they stood; he noted the classrooms around them, and the position of the other offices. "Must have sent out an alarm," Bob answered AndrAIa, mentally cursing the Guardian protocol; "that's what they would do under normal circumstances. There!" he screamed. "Keep running; the doors are up ahead!"
Two large oaken doors greeted them like the answer to a prayer. Behind them, the Guardians were gaining ground on the three sprites, who were nearly exhausted from running for so long.
"Matrix — use Gun!" Bob yelled. The renegade was only too happy to oblige. He yanked Gun out of the holster and shot two powerful blasts at one of the doors, causing it to explode into splinters. They darted through the wreckage of the door, past the confused guards. The Guardians still chasing them pushed against each other to squeeze through the doors, waving their hands against the cloud of dust the sprites had kicked up.
The Mainframers couldn't rest yet, however. Just as they had escaped the huge Academy, they could hear Guardian transports powering up not far behind them. They spurred their weary legs into motion toward one of the dark spaces between buildings, in the hope of finding a hiding place.
Matrix's boot caught on a loose piece of garbage in the street, and he stumbled forward and fell to the gravel. AndrAIa and Bob backspaced and helped him to his feet.
The garbage Matrix had tripped on turned out to actually be a manhole cover that had been thrust aside. A sprite's head popped out of the manhole, and he pulled himself out. He reached out a hand to help Matrix.
Immediately on the alert, the renegade whipped out Gun and pointed it at the stranger. The sprite, also on the edge of his nerves and seeing the movement, took a firm hold of Gun and shook his head.
The Guardians' transports swerved around a corner, now in plain sight. Their guns rotated toward the four sprites. Seeing the new predicament, the stranger yelled, "Follow me!" and pointed down the hole. The stranger let go of Matrix and jumped down into the manhole.
None of the Mainframers moved; they had no reason to believe that this sprite wasn't infected.
The sprite ground his teeth in frustration. "Get down here if you don't want to be deleted," he commanded.
They hesitated for another nano. The sound of the transports came closer. Finally AndrAIa nodded and ducked down into the tunnel. Bob and Matrix followed her quickly, and the sprite slid the cover back over the manhole.
AndrAIa's feet touched down in murky data. She lifted her boot and shook off some gooey algae. Her eyes shimmered slightly as her vision adjusted to the semi-darkness around them. Beside her, Bob and Matrix took a little longer to get used to the minimal lighting. Matrix's eye glowed red as he looked around them. He narrowed his eyes, then wrinkled his nose at the stench that had begun to press in around them.
Their rescuer glanced back and grinned briefly before he started forward. "This way. We should get some distance away from them."
The four of them carefully navigated through the data, making sloshing sounds every time they stepped. The Mainframers didn't speak as they walked; their focus was on making sure no one heard them and following the mysterious sprite.
They went straight for ten milliseconds, the winded breathing of three sprites the only noise in the tunnel. Finally, weak lights could be seen up ahead. The man flashed a hand-signal to a group of sprites holding the lanterns, then he led Bob, Matrix, and AndrAIa through a side tunnel. The lights receded, leaving them in darkness until brighter lights — and a greater amount of them — appeared. They emerged into an underground room, where sprites and binomes — male, female, all ages — ambled by.
The man turned back to them and held out his hand. The lights let them see that his red hair, partly gray, had been cut hastily and framed a purple-skinned face. He had a long scar running along the left side of his face, and he looked as if he hadn't shaved in a long while. His eyes were a warm mahogany however, as he introduced himself. "Garret."
Bob shook his hand. "I'm Bob, Guardian 452."
Garret's mouth twisted into a small smile. "You look a lot different from the descriptions I've heard," he commented wryly.
Bob's hand flew to his spiky yellow hair, and he grinned. "Yeah. We're — we're in disguises, to avoid being recognized."
Garret nodded. "Good thinking."
"This is Matrix, and that's AndrAIa." Bob introduced the two sprites, and Garret nodded at each of them.
"Matrix is also a Guardian," Bob said. "Or, at least he has some codes."
"The last two uninfected Guardians," Garret said, understanding. "Daemon wants you like it's the end of the Net." He smiled again. "Dean's going to hate that he missed this. My son, Dean, wants to enroll in the Academy," he explained.
Bob nodded. "And how old is Dean?" he asked, thinking, Maybe Enzo could find a sprite his age.
"1.9."
"Oh!" Bob's eyes widened. It seemed Garret's son was only about three hours younger than Matrix and AndrAIa. "Um, Garret, I think if Dean wanted to be a Guardian, he should've enrolled when he was younger."
Garret eyed him for a moment, then burst out laughing. "Bob, you don't understand! My family didn't come here on vacation, nor did we actually live here before." At their perplexed looks, he explained, "We were driven out of our system by Daemon's forces fourteen hours ago. We came to the Supercomputer those fourteen hours ago, before Daemon reached it." He sighed, reliving an unpleasant memory. "When she did come, we were all made into her slaves. Luckily, Dean and I were able to escape, and we've been fighting for freedom with these refugee groups."
"Where is your son?" AndrAIa asked, looking around them for a boy who shared Garret's looks.
"Heading some groups in Sector 7," he answered. "The boy can lead," he added in a proud voice.
Another refugee caught up to the four sprites. "Garret, who did you find?" she asked, throwing her arms over his shoulders and kissing him on the mouth. This woman, the same age as Garret, had smooth rose-colored skin, wide, bright green eyes, and golden hair that was tied back in a loose bun. AndrAIa glimpsed simple rings on the left hands of both Garret and the woman, and she surmised that they were husband and wife.
"This is my wife, Gloria," Garret explained. "She heads the medical center, and other parts of our little camp when I'm away. Gloria, this is Bob, Matrix, and AndrAIa."
"Nice to meet you," Gloria replied, shaking hands with each sprite in turn. She was AndrAIa's height, lean and wiry. From the look of the muscles on her arms, she had probably been fit even before her hours with the refugees.
"Please, take a seat," Gloria said. "You look absolutely drained of energy."
Each sprite nodded his or her thanks as they sat down on some crates full of unknown supplies. Garret and his wife gave their visitors a few moments to catch their breath. As the sprites let their core-com rates slow to normal, they took time to look at the scene around them. An amazing number of sprites worked and talked with one another as they went on with whatever jobs they did. Some sprites helped load supplies, and others went in and out of side rooms; but every sprite was always in motion.
"This is some sort of family affair you've got here?" Bob asked as they surveyed the activity going on around them. "You, your wife, your son . . . ?"
Gloria gave a small laugh, but Garret shrugged. "I guess you can say so."
"So, you've been here for fourteen hours?" AndrAIa asked. "How did you manage to fight for so long?"
"After the Guardians destroyed our home system, this was the first place to go. And, once Daemon took over, we had to survive." Gloria clasped his hand, and Garret gave her a small smile. "It's the knowledge that one second that super-virus is going to go back to her User that keeps us fighting."
"Well -- we'd have been deleted if you hadn't found us when you had, Garret," Bob said. "Thank you; you saved our lives."
Gloria narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. "How did you end up being chased by Guardians in the first place?" she asked.
Knowing through Garret's actions that he and his wife were trustworthy, Bob began to explain about Mainframe suiting up for war, and AndrAIa's scheme to re-set the system's communications in the Supercomputer. He finished, a little sheepishly, "Looks like we're not as skilled with sneaking in as we thought; the Guardians got us in less time than it took us to prepare for this plan."
"Don't beat yourself up," Garret advised. He heaved a tired sigh that spoke volumes of the battles he himself had fought against the Guardians. "Daemon's very skilled," he said flatly, "and she has the added benefit of those Guardians already being trained at the Academy. We've been trying to mess her up for hours. A couple minutes ago, we raided Isna Radius' mansion, but even then we barely escaped with our lives. Do you know of her?"
"We heard a little about her," Bob replied. "She's supposed to be one of Daemon's hosts, right?"
"That's right," Garret answered. "I just wish I knew how Daemon has all those women as hosts; where they all are."
"You should go together," Gloria suggested. "You need to set up your communications again," she said to the Mainframers, "and we need to find out more about that super-virus. If you work together, you'll have a better chance of finding out something."
"You're right," Garret told his wife, giving her a weary hug. "I'll go assemble a good team. Come on," he said to Bob, AndrAIa, and Matrix. They followed Garret to another room.
With a sigh, Gloria headed back to the medical center. AndrAIa's words rang fresh in her mind, and, not for the first time, she wondered how she could have been fighting for freedom for all these hours; how had she survived all the grief the User had put upon her? First her two little daughters — now, Garret was going on another dangerous mission, and Dean was out in the streets at this very moment. Through any small twist of fate, she could lose one or both of the only family she had left.
Well, that's life, Honey, she thought resignedly. That's the way it is.
Enzo made sure no one could saw him as he zipped over the data sea to the Twin City. He had been caught up in the flurry of preparations after the icon procedure, and after Welman had talked so angrily to the others, Dot had made sure Enzo didn't go near the other system. Enzo was fed up with the house arrest. Well, he had decided that morning, if he couldn't see his father, at least he could visit Ric.
He was met with a surprising sight when he reached the Twin City's docks. The sprites and binomes who had come on the trading ship were loading their cargo back into the ship while it hummed, waiting to go.
Enzo frowned and hurried over to where Ric and Midi were helping their mother lift wooden boxes filled with their supplies.
"Hey, Ric, what's going on?" he asked a little confusedly.
His friend didn't look directly at him as he answered. "We're leaving."
"What? Why?"
Ric's head shot up, and he looked almost to be glaring. "Because of Daemon, stupid!" He continued in halting tones, "Her Guardians made it to Mainframe — and, and that means the system is no longer clean. And, once she takes over your system, she'll come here, because it's right across the data sea."
No — this couldn't be. Enzo's mind raced. They weren't abandoning him, he tried to deny. They weren't leaving in Mainframe's most dire time of need. His small hands curled into fists. Never before had he felt so disgusted.
"But — but you can't go," Enzo tried to reason. "Ric, you're the only sprite my age. I need a friend."
"My mind is made up." Ric made it sound like a rehearsed answer.
"What about the people from the Twin City?" Enzo demanded. "Do they know you're going?"
Captain Rif appeared around the side of the ship, having heard their conversation. "They already know," he answered. "Dr. Matrix gave us his blessing."
Enzo couldn't answer to that. Then he saw Rif's icon — the white-and-black Mainframe PID, the same one the Acoses had. "What about that?" he asked, pointing at their icons. "What happened to being citizens of Mainframe'?"
Ric Acos looked at his icon interestedly for a few nanoseconds. Finally he said, "Maybe we'll come back one second, if you win against Daemon." He tried a weak smile. "Will you keep a place for us?"
Not if — we will win against Daemon, Enzo thought. He resolved never to do as Ric asked.
His clenched hands shook in anger. But he could do nothing except watch as the traders went inside their ship and prepared to leave.
"Please, Ric, don't go," he pleaded one last time.
The young sprite looked regretfully at him. "I would stay, Enzo — if things were different, I would." He started to step into the ship.
"If you were my friend you would stay no matter what!" Enzo shouted angrily.
Ric looked back, and his face was a mixture of his own anger, but also fear. "Not with Daemon here," he whispered. "She's just — she's just too powerful."
Kirstie herded her children inside. She bent by Enzo and put a hand on his shoulder. "You're a brave little boy. Good luck and Net protect you that Daemon doesn't come any closer."
Enzo shrugged her hand off, blinking back a tear.
Kirstie gave him a weary smile then she boarded the trading ship and closed the hatch.
They weren't really his friends, Enzo realized as the ship lifted off. He found that he didn't even care anymore as the ship shot past the barrier and disappeared into the Web.
A hand clasped his shoulder, and Enzo nearly jumped. He looked back into Tessa's black eyes.
"I'm sorry," she said softly. Enzo muttered something and tried to wipe his eye without her noticing.
Tessa put her hand on his cheek. Enzo stared at her, startled by this uncomfortable but soothing act.
The 1.0-hour-old smiled shyly. "I'll never leave you, Enzo," she said. "I want to be your friend."
Enzo slowly smiled, and he awkwardly put his arms around her in a quick hug. He let out the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding in a sigh.
They pulled back and smiled at one another, a little embarrassed. It might have been a trick of the light, but he thought he saw a flutter of color across her arm. Enzo looked again, but Tessa's skin was its normal dull gray color.
She cocked her head to the side. "Are you all right, Enzo?"
He looked up at her. "Oh, yeah, I'm fine."
The girl-sprite put a hand on his arm. "Would you like to go back to Mainframe?"
He nodded reluctantly. "Yeah, I had better, before Dot finds out I was here. C'mon, Tessa." The two young sprites zipped back to Mainframe.