None of those things would make the Genius very happy. And the Genius, to quote the words of a big and nasty bully, was “a dangerous sort of chap.”
It was hard enough being an everyday student with only a couple of hours’ worth of sleep. Matt dragged himself through his morning classes. He was lucky that his first after-lunch time slot was a Library period.
Even so, he was yawning as he began to go over some of the historical material Sandy Braxton had given him. The two officers they were researching, Armistead and Hancock, had served together on several posts out West before the Civil War had started. When the fighting began, they had quickly risen to responsible commands.
Matt began to show a little interest as he kept reading. He was fascinated to see how different leadership had been during the Civil War. Officers, even generals, led charges from the front ranks rather than managing their troops from the rear.
Or hiding completely, like the Genius, while others took all the risks.
But 170 years ago, officers believed that their men had to be inspired. It was an idea from centuries earlier, when smoothbore muskets couldn’t be aimed more than ninety yards. But in the Civil War, the troops were firing rifles accurate to 660 yards. Gallant gestures by officers turned them into targets.
Brigadier Armistead had tried a morale-boosting measure on the fatal day of July 3, 1863. He’d placed his officer’s hat on the tip of his sword, holding it high over his head so his troops would know where “the old man” was. Certainly, his men had kept following, even though they’d taken horrifying casualties. Only a handful had made it to the top of Cemetery Ridge, and they’d faced point-blank fire. Armistead had gone down, still at the front of the attack.
At least Matt was awake for the rest of the day. But he was fading again as he headed for home on the autobus. His folks weren’t home, so he hit the rack for a couple of hours. He was up in time for dinner, although his father couldn’t help teasing him a little.
“In my day, we’d be up late at night hitting the books. What do you call it when you’re plugged into your computer until two in the morning?”
“Could be worse,” Mom said with a smile. “He might have been sitting in front of an old-fashioned computer monitor all that time.”
“I remember that.” Dad laughed. “We’d call it ‘getting a CRT tan’—computer nerds used to turn that delicate shade of green.”
Matt just kept his eyes on his plate, shoving the food in. He cleaned the plates, and finally headed back up to his room.
Sinking into the upholstery of his computer-link chair, he began to tune his implants to the receptor equipment in the headrest. A high-pitched buzzing rose in his ears as he closed his eyes.
When he opened them, he was in his personal veeyar, facing the familiar starry sky with the marble slab floating in midair. A second later, though, he faced a very unexpected addition.
Caitlin Corrigan popped into existence, lying across the marble slab like a swimsuit model, one elbow cocked so she could rest her head on her hand.
“Better close your mouth, Matt,” she teased. “Unless you’re trying to catch virtual flies.”
He did his best to make a comeback. “It — it’s just that I don’t recall leaving an icon quite so large on my workspace.”
“You were using enough of them last night.” She giggled, toying with the icons across the slab. “This is your Mr. Sticks proxy, your telecommunications program, and the awful things you did to my friendly little protocol.” Cat’s eyebrows rose as she poked at her altered earring.
Matt wished for a proxy right now. He just hoped his face wasn’t giving away his total shock at Caitlin’s familiarity with his personal veeyar. She must have been in and around his veeyar for a while, to figure out all the programs he had set out.
She kept her cover-girl pose, even though she was wearing an old sweater and beat-up jeans. “I don’t know why you’re so surprised to see me. You did just about challenge us to track you down.”
Then she shook her head, trying to sound stern but somehow coming across as flirty. “For a whiz, I thought you’d be a lot more serious about using your computer. It’s — how long since we got out of school? And you haven’t even logged in! Not even a voice command! I’d hate to tell you how long I’ve been sitting around, waiting for you to turn up.”
“Not all of that time in my computer, I hope,” Matt said, still trying to come to grips with this bolt from the blue.
Cat wagged a finger at him. “Don’t think the whole world revolves around you,” she scolded with a grin. “I had a couple of other things to do.”
She cocked her head, twirling the ends of her hair around one finger. “You know, I really wondered what you looked like behind that stick proxy.” Caitlin’s grin grew wider. “I’m glad it’s you, even though I have to say I’m surprised.”
“Surprised?” Matt echoed.
She shrugged, swinging up so that she was sitting on the slab. Her hands clasped over her right knee, while her left foot dangled off into the star-filled void.
“I always thought you were one of the good boys,” she said, her voice becoming even more flirtatious.
“Oh, you mean poor but honest?” Matt teased back.
The girl giggled, nodding her head. “You got it! I never thought an upstanding junior citizen like you would ever want to hang with us naughty rich kids.”
Matt remembered a line Leif Anderson had used about the wealthy and bored. “Skill and sneakiness can beat mere money any day.”
Cat laughed, but Matt noticed that her pose was suddenly a lot more tense.
Then it hit him. It wasn’t Caitlin’s computer skill that had allowed her to find him. Her sudden appearance — and her flirty act, too — was probably a setup to distract him.
But Matt’s thoughtless words had cut through her little act. They’d reminded her of someone else whose skill and sneakiness had let him dominate the rich kids who made up the virtual vandals.
A chill ran down his back, but he did his best to keep up the byplay with Caitlin.
“I hope you think this little visit was worthwhile. I mean, it must have taken you a lot of effort.”
Cat relaxed a little, until she caught the barbed hook hidden in the last four words. Her breath caught a little, and for just a second, he could see the fear in her eyes.
“Enjoy it while you can,” she said lightly. “If I see you tomorrow in school, I’ll have to pretend I don’t know you.” She leaned forward. “Remember, none of us are supposed to be meeting…out there.”
She made a little gesture, indicating something beyond the starry skies of Matt’s veeyar — the real world.
“‘In the flesh’ was the way you put it the last time,” Matt reminded her. “Does this mean I’ve finally become a member of the team?”
Cat still kept her sexy pose, but her eyes grew sharper. “I couldn’t tell you that — but better safe than sorry.”
“Okay,” Matt sighed. “I guess I’ll just have to get used to being just another Dexter.”
For a second, he shocked a genuine smile out of Caitlin. But her eyes were still intent as her finger went back to twirling her hair. “’Fraid so. Till I see you again….”
She vanished — but just before she did, something dropped among the icons on the marble slab.
Cat Corrigan had left him another earring.
