With four seconds left, Gaspar pulled out of Madeline Green’s veeyar, popping back into the Net just outside the Bessel Mid-Town. He floated freely eight stories above the street.
Holding his hand out, he focused on the file he’d retrieved from the Net Force Explorer’s veeyar. Immediately a miniature holo player appeared on his palm, the small case gleaming bright cobalt blue. He opened it and pressed the Play icon. Images of Madeline Green’s encounter with Peter and his dragon flashed across the three-inch screen.
Gaspar closed the holo player and made it disappear. Accessing the feeds he’d kept open to the girl’s room, he took a quick peek back inside. So far Heavener’s ground unit hadn’t arrived.
Suddenly a bright yellow sash snaked out in front of him, then wrapped around his right wrist. The sash had all the strength of cotton candy, but what it signified reminded him of how much he could lose.
Someone had found him with a trace-back utility, he realized as he yanked his hand through the yellow sash. Even if he logged off, the trace-back utility would locate his point of origin if the user was any good. And if that happened, he knew Heavener would kill him. The trace-back material parted easily. He turned, morphing from the hotel staff proxy into another proxy, one of a dozen he preferred on the Net. The suit dropped away, melting into the sigil-covered armor of his personal choice in proxies.
In the blink of an eye he was nearly seven feet tall and broad-built. A large bearskin robe covered enchanted armor, wrapping his head in a peaked hood. He unsheathed the curved sword at his hip and took a two-handed stance as he turned around to face the trace-back.
The yellow sash wiggled in front of him, making tentative darts toward him without actually making contact. A slight figure approached from the other end of it.
It’s just a kid, Gaspar thought as he studied the slim figure in the red T-shirt. Then he reconsidered that. He wasn’t seven feet tall except through the proxy parameters. Maybe the kid wasn’t a kid. Maybe he wasn’t even alone. Whatever he was, though, he was good if he could make the trace-back tag.
The kid stopped less than ten feet away, hovering comfortably over the street. “Hi,” he said in a calm voice as he crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m Mark Gridley, a Net Force Explorer.” ID popped into existence over his left shoulder, legible even at the distance. “I thought maybe we needed to talk.”
“Tell me Maj isn’t in room five eighteen,” Catie Murray whispered, glancing desperately around the hallway. No one was visible except the four men she’d spotted in the elevator on her way up to Maj’s room after getting Matt’s vidphone call. She wore her blond hair pulled back in a ponytail. She was dressed for suburban stealth in a warm-up suit and cross-trainers.
She opened the foilpack again, sliding aside a tiny compartment cover, and dropped an earpiece into her hand. She popped the earpiece into her ear, then plugged the micro-thin connector wire into the foilpack’s aud jack.
“Can’t,” Matt said.
The men were young, average in height and appearance. They wouldn’t stand out in a crowd. Curling wires at the back of their necks that led up to their ears advertised they were jacked into foilpacks or some kind of comm devices. All of them were grimfaced, moving in concert, as if they’d practiced. One pulled an electronic device from under his jacket and laid it over the door lock.
“They’re breaking into her room.” Catie turned and held the foilpack so the vid could pick up the men at Maj’s door.
“Sit tight,” Matt advised. “I’ve already called the L.A. Police Department.”
Catie remembered the hallway she’d passed in the elevator foyer. The rooftop facilities the Bessel Mid-Town Hotel offered included a swimming pool and banquet area. “Can you hack into the hotel computer system and set off the fire alarm?”
“You could do that.”
“I’m going to be busy.” Catie sprinted down the hallway, digging her feet into the carpet and pushing off. She used her arms to push off walls and make the turns back to the foyer. “And I need as much time as I can get.”
“If I trigger the fire alarms,” Matt pointed out, “the hotel doors automatically open as part of the safety features.”
“I’ve got a plan,” Catie replied as she reached the foyer, caught the handle of the door leading to the rooftop facilities. Maybe not much of a plan, but it’s all I’ve got.
5
Maj guided the Striper through the blue sky high above the windswept desert. So far, she hadn’t been able to find the dragon or its rider. Powering the jet down, she dropped toward the hard deck and unsnapped her facemask in frustration.
“Warning, Room Five Eighteen!” a shrill voice suddenly screamed. “Impending security breach.”
A sudden chill ghosted through Maj. Her body was back in a hotel room, not safely tucked away at home. She forced herself to be calm. “Notify the security desk.”
“The security desk no longer exists.”
The statement caught Maj by surprise. “Check again.”
The only way the security desk doesn’t exist, Maj knew, is if new programming has invaded the security system and redefined the parameters. The assault began on this room before someone started forcing the door. “Bring up the door’s external security vid scan.”
A letterbox-shaped two-dee screen popped into the cockpit with her. Only gray fuzz showed on the screen.
“Where’s the vid?” Maj asked.
“Scanning. Nothing exists outside the parameter of this room.”
There was a sound like breaking glass, then the two-dee screen suddenly disappeared.
Near panic, Maj refastened the mask over her face, then slammed a gloved palm against the ejection button. The cockpit canopy blew free, swept away in the jetstream. The seats launched from the Striper a heartbeat later. Maj rode the seat high into the air. When she pulled her chute free, the drag yanked her up and back into the real world.
She opened her eyes in the implant chair in the hotel and watched as, across the room, the doorknob turned.
I have definitely had better ideas, Catie thought as she stared down the five-story drop to the street. Knowing time was working against her, she glanced around the rooftop facilities the Bessel Mid-Town Hotel offered.
A huge pool occupied an area just off-center, flanked by dozens of lounge chairs. Farther back to the left, the banquet area sat in quiet order, stripped of tablecloths and the flower arrangements Catie had seen earlier.
On the right was the low-roofed building that housed the gym. The third side of the rooftop opened up to the western skyline.
Maj is in trouble. As soon as the thought passed through Catie’s mind, she was in motion. She oriented herself quickly, sprinting for the low-roofed exercise area. She played a lot of soccer when she got the chance, so she was in good shape and knew how to handle herself.
Small balconies stuck out from every room in the hotel, each equipped with a small plastic table and two lounge chairs.
Catie vaulted from the top of one of the huge pots on either side of the exercise room and grabbed the roof’s edge. Wearing the foilpack strapped to her wrist, she hauled herself up onto the building. Dashing across the building, she found it wasn’t as close to the nearest balcony as she’d hoped.
She halted at the edge and peered down through the darkness. Neon lights chased away a lot of the night’s shadows, and it only made the view to the street below clearer.
Never look, she told herself as fear turned sour and cold inside her. It’s definitely not a good idea to look. She took a deep breath and backed away from the edge.