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Maj sat in her hotel room with her friends. Mark Gridley’s holo stood at center stage, holding all their attention with his story.

Andy shook his head. He sat on the floor against the wall. “You should have left the trace on.”

“If they’d found it, they would have killed him.”

Andy spread his hands. “Excuse me for being the cynic here, but you only had his word about that.”

Mark looked at them a little uncertainly. “I believed him.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Matt advised. “You did the right thing. The guys who invaded Maj’s room last night sure didn’t have any problems pulling the trigger.”

“Sure, the guy thought he was nailed,” Andy persisted. “He was going to tell you any story you’d buy into.”

“Sometimes people tell the truth,” Megan pointed out.

“A body shows up,” Andy said, “you can trace a body.”

“That’s awfully cold,” Catie said.

“I’m just saying.”

“And bodies don’t always turn up,” Leif said. “You’d be surprised how many hostile takeovers among corporations actually turn out hostile.”

Maj hardened her voice. Andy was a friend, but his cynical streak was definitely a pain sometimes. “How about it, Andy? Think you’d have called it any other way?” She met Andy’s gaze fully.

Andy blew his breath out. “No. No, you did the right thing, Squirt. I’m just itching to be doing something instead of sitting around here.”

“Something like pulling surveillance in the game room?” Leif suggested. He munched on a banana from the huge fruit bowl he’d had sent up. There was also a selection of cheeses and crackers and bottled water.

Andy’s face brightened. “Now there’s an idea. If they hadn’t shut the game room down, I’d be in heaven.” The game room had been sealed by the LAPD while a forensics team scoured the area and processed witnesses. Some off-site gaming centers had been set up that were accessible through the Net, but the experience just wasn’t the same.

Maj studied the printout from the letter the mystery guy had left. Visit the Game Producers’ Banquet in the hotel tonight. Look and listen. The package had also included three unique guest passes that couldn’t be duplicated.

“Are you sure it was the same guy you met last night?” Maj asked.

“He had the same proxy,” Mark answered. “The same kind of feel to him. I’d say so.”

“You know,” Matt said, “this could be a setup.”

“That crossed my mind,” Maj admitted.

“Or it could be contact so they can make the ransom demand,” Megan said.

That I hadn’t thought of.” And that’s a new twist I really didn’t want to think about right now, Maj thought. “But why me?”

“For a messenger,” Leif said. “Maybe it’s because of your Net Force connections. They’ve studied your background by now. They’ll know who you are.”

“They could contact Peter’s publishers,” Maj said. “That would make more sense.”

“Unless you figure maybe they were the geeks who kidnapped Peter in the first place,” Andy said. “Or that Peter wanted them to contact you because he helped kidnap himself.”

“He wouldn’t do that.”

Andy snorted. “And you got that from the thumbnail history they’ve got on HoloNet, right?”

“Back off,” Maj said angrily.

“No,” Andy said. “Stop and think for a minute, Maj. Somehow Peter Griffen invaded your veeyar here at the hotel while you were showing your sim off to Matt. Guys later invaded your room. Maybe you were supposed to scream ‘Police!’ last night and get some extra attention. Instead, Detective Holmes and Captain Winters squashed the story.”

“You didn’t see his face,” Maj said. “He was just as surprised to see us there as we were to see him.”

“That’s right,” Matt put in. “And the team who was here last night came prepared to kill anyone who got in their way. That wasn’t an act.”

“Who knows? Maybe a game will sell better if there’s a body count attached.”

“Andy,” Catie cautioned.

“Actually,” Megan said, “Andy does have a point. A somewhat bloodthirsty one, but a point all the same.”

“Okay, I’ll take that for an answer now,” Maj said. “But the question remains about whether we should go to the banquet.”

Andy raised an eyebrow and smiled. “It’s your call, Cinderella. That’s your name on the tickets to the ball.”

“And two friends,” Maj said. “Want to escort me?”

“To a stuffed shirt convention?” Andy shook his head. “I’d rather have surgery to remove—”

Leif interrupted hastily, “I’d love to go with you, Maj.”

“Fine.”

“Count me in.” Megan looked around the room. “Unless someone else would rather go.”

“The three of you should be fine,” Matt said. “The convention’s going to be heavily guarded, physically as well as virtually, so I don’t think you’ll have any problems. In the meantime, Catie can hold down the fort here and work as a communications go-between while Mark, Andy, and I knock on a few doors to see what we can turn up.”

“What doors?” Maj asked.

“I’ll dig into the bio material you’ve archived on Peter,” Matt said. “I thought maybe Mark and Andy could check into some of the online gamesites, places where Peter has been known to hang out.”

“Now that,” Andy sang out, “is my kind of assignment.”

“I’ll work up a short list of places to start,” Mark said. “I’ve looked over some of Peter’s records. Andy and I will get right on it.”

Leif plucked a strawberry from the fruit bowl. “Then I’d say we’re adjourned here.” He checked the time. “We’ve got a little over an hour till the banquet.” He glanced at the two girls. “I don’t suppose you packed anything banquety?”

Megan launched a disgusted sigh. “Nope. I was expecting fun and frolic, and tons of games.”

Maj shook her head, thinking frantically.

“Then, if you’ll allow me,” Leif said, “might I suggest the little shop downstairs.”

Maj remembered the cocktail dresses she’d seen in the window of that shop. The price tags were obviously set by NASA. “That’s a little out of the budget. Cinderella may have to go as pre-fairy godmother Cinderella.”

“I took the liberty while we were talking,” Leif said, “of setting up an account for you at the shop. My dad’s picking up the tab for this little adventure in return for information I can give him concerning the gaming market. Especially the Peter Griffen situation. He’s got people ready to start investing in Eisenhower Productions, provided things don’t turn sour.”

“Gee,” Megan teased, “you don’t exactly look like the fairy godmother type. Never even saw the wand.”

Leif passed one of his hands over the other, making a rectangular piece of plastic appear. “Universal Credit Card. Don’t leave home without it.”

“Is this your first time at the game publishers’ banquet?”

Startled, Maj turned to face the man who’d suddenly appeared at her side. Is this the guy Mark saw? She studied him, looking for a clue.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to surprise you.” The man was in his early twenties, average height but narrow-shouldered and as compact as a rapier. His black skin glistened in the low light of the banquet room. His head was shaved as smooth as an egg. He wore a black tuxedo.

“It’s okay,” Maj said, and smiled. “I guess maybe I got a little caught up in playing who’s who.”

“Derek Sommers.” He held out his hand. The blue and white name badge on his jacket read DEREK.

“IPG Games,” Maj said, getting a little excited. “You created Banshee’s Curse.”