Matt became more interested as he discovered that Savage’s brawling apparently had a political origin. His father was a radical British politician, campaigning on an angrily anti-Irish platform. Matt knew there had always been a lot of anger in the history of England and Ireland. The Irish had fought for hundreds of years to be free from British rule.
But the antagonistic relationship had taken a new turn since the late 1990s, when Ireland began outperforming Britain economically. Where Englishmen had once claimed superiority, they now felt envy. It only became worse when, twenty years later, the British government finally allowed the six counties of Northern Ireland to reunite with the rest of the country. Many Englishmen were humiliated at losing one of their last colonies — and Cliff Savage, Gerald’s father, had ridden that wave of old hatred and anger to sudden political prominence.
It looked as though the government had given him a foreign-service post to get him out of the country.
Matt shook his head. But why send him here? They had to know about the huge Irish-American community. Or was that the idea? Maybe the people in London were hoping that the Savages would cause some kind of international incident.
“Close file,” Matt ordered. But he was already frowning as a new thought came to him. Caitlin Corrigan. That had to be an Irish name. What was she doing with a guy who liked to dump on Irish people?
Maybe it was just part of Washington society. It was amazing how diplomatic functions were always throwing together people who were supposed to be bitter enemies. Sometimes political points could be made by acting like friends.
Then again, these were two kids whose parents were always in the public eye. Maybe they thought it would be funny to drive their folks crazy by picking the world’s most impossible friend.
Matt swallowed. In school, his English class had been going over Romeo and Juliet, the famous play where two kids from feuding families had fallen in love.
Any of those scenarios could explain why Caitlin and Gerry the Savage had gotten together. But all they told Matt was that he had a lot more to find out about Cat Corrigan before he’d know what made her tick.
Chapter 7
Matt knew he should be working on the “assignment” he’d been given by the virtual vandals — the little job he hadn’t mentioned to Captain Winters. His attempt at undercover work would go up in smoke if he couldn’t deliver on what he’d been asked to do.
Instead, Matt found himself staring at a holo image over his computer console. It showed Caitlin Corrigan in an evening gown, arriving at some charity event with her escort, Gerald Savage. Cat was giving the paparazzi a mischievous grin. The Savage looked as if he’d just bitten into a chocolate-covered pickle.
How was Matt supposed to compete with these people? They were the innermost in-crowd, invited to every social event. If they couldn’t get to Sean McArdle, how could Matt expect to get through?
Unless…Matt suddenly thought, maybe I’m asking the wrong question. Why can’t they get through to Sean McArdle?
He erased the image from his computer console, and began a new data search. As Matt read the news reports he called up, a line of type caught his eye. Then a slow smile appeared on his face. Maybe, just maybe, there was a way….
A day or so later, Matt ventured out into the Net, carrying his telecommunications icon, Leif Anderson’s proxy program, and Caitlin’s earring protocol.
He took a roundabout route before heading to Cat’s veeyar, just in case she was monitoring where he came from.
Getting paranoid, aren’t we? a little voice asked in the back of his mind.
Maybe he was. But keeping himself anonymous was one of the few advantages he had against these rich kids. He figured keeping that advantage was worth a little work.
Matt flew through the glowing world of the Net until he came to another heavily trafficked data node. Then he transformed himself into Mr. Sticks and activated Cat’s communications protocol. Again he flew through the walls of the Corrigans’ virtual mansion and into the endless surreal landscape of Caitlin’s personal veeyar.
Cat appeared a moment later, wearing jeans and a sweater. Her feet were bare, and Matt noticed that her eyes seemed puffy.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Oh, I’m just great,” she retorted. “My whole life is in the hands of a guy who dresses like a squiggle, so I have to jump like a trained seal whenever he shows up.”
She rubbed her hands over her face, sighing. “I’m sorry. I was out last night — late. It felt as if I’d just closed my eyes for a nap when my beeper announced that you were in here.”
Matt actually found himself feeling sorry for Caitlin. Wait a minute, he told himself. She wasn’t forced to get into this. Remember Leif — and the other people who got hurt because she felt she needed a little excitement in her life.
He pushed his sympathy away. “I think I’ve got a way to get at Sean McArdle, just as your friends wanted. It will be tomorrow, if you need to get anything ready. And you’ll need this.”
Matt tossed Caitlin a small program icon.
When she caught it, her virtual image began to transform. Cat’s shining blond hair turned mousy brown, shrinking back into a severe haircut that, even though it was short, made her hair look stringy. Her heart-shaped face lengthened, the cheeks sinking in, her jaw growing long. Her lips flattened out into a tight line, and her eyes went from blue to a washed-out hazel.
The sweater and jeans morphed into a baggy, unflattering jumper dress covering a cheap, plain white blouse. Bony wrists and nail-bitten hands stuck out from the too-short cuffs. Matchstick legs and ugly brown shoes emerged from the too-long skirt.
Caitlin looked down at her altered self and let out a horrified scream.
“My hair! My clothes…the rest of me! What did you do?” she demanded.
“Don’t burst a valve,” Matt told her. “It’s just a proxy. You’ll need it to get in — just as I’ll need this.”
He activated his proxy program, turning into a gangly redheaded boy with a freckled baby-face, wearing a not-quite-clean white shirt, a too-short tie, and dress pants that were a good inch and a half too short, showing off white gym socks.
Caitlin looked at him and shuddered. “Tell me that’s not the way you actually look,” she begged. “You’d make a perfect Dexter.”
She called up a virtual mirror and stood beside him, examining their reflections. “And you turned me into a real Nerdetta.”
“So nobody would expect that’s you under there — or me.” Matt tapped the rumpled tie on his proxy self’s chest. “But they’d think we look exactly like a pair of serious junior reporters from our school newspaper.”
Cat’s altered face turned to him, her eyes sharp. “Newspaper?”
“I bet you and your friends tried the usual social angles that work with diplomatic brats,” Matt said. “But Sean McArdle doesn’t go out to play — or bring people in for virtual bashes like Lara Fortune’s. No, he’s kind of serious, a real — what did you call it? — a Dexter. He uses the Net for research, not to play around. But he does open up his system for one thing that I bet your pals never thought about. Once a month, he hosts a virtual youth press conference. That’s what’s happening tomorrow. It took a little foozling on the school computers, but I got us clearance to attend as reporters for the Bradford Bulletin.”
“I usually erase that thing right after it’s downloaded to our computers,” Caitlin admitted.
Unless it’s got an article about a big dance, or some nonsense about one of your Leet friends, Matt thought.