Virtual Vandals

on the wild side?”

Matt felt sick. He could just imagine the media circus. Their faces smeared over every holo-news program, in the broadcast magazines and the sleazy gossip-fests that pretended to be news shows. The preaching and the finger-pointing by self-appointed guardians of morality and political opportunists. Dad would be laughed out of class. Mom would never get another promotion again. Cat’s father would probably have to get out of politics. And the diplomats would have to go pack up and go home.

Unless….

“Maybe you’ve got us,” Matt bluffed, “but I don’t see Luc Valery or Serge Woronov. Do you think they’re going to sit around quietly when they hear that Caitlin has been kidnapped? Especially since you killed Savage.”

Loud laughter drowned out his words. Rob Falk just waved his argument away. “Already taken care of.”

Caitlin looked as sick as Matt felt. “Y-you mean you k-k-killed—?”

James was already shouting through the doorway on the other side of the room. Seconds later, two more husky Buzzard gangbangers led in two bedraggled figures.

The warlord laughed as if he’d heard a great joke. “We nabbed them before we took care of you.”

Luc Valery was dressed in an expensive suit — or what was left of an expensive suit. At the right shoulder of his jacket, the arm had almost been torn off. It hung crazily, held in place only by the pale silk inner lining. Serge wore jeans and a sweater — and a huge, swollen black eye.

Rob gave the diplo-brats the same kind of smile a cat would give a lame canary. “Luc was supposed to be going to lunch with his dad — until he heard this.”

He hit some keys on the keyboard, and suddenly the floating map was replaced by an image of Caitlin. “I’ve got to talk with you — right away.” Her voice turned to a breathless whisper. “That guy who’s been pestering us — I think he’s the one who drove that car that got Gerry!”

Rob turned to the speechless Caitlin. “Pretty effective, don’t you think? Of course, I’ve been sampling your voice for months, just in case I needed to imitate you. The gallant M’sieu Valery rushed to the meeting place your virtual version suggested — then wound up coming along here with just a little persuasion.”

He turned to the other foreign prisoner. “Now Serge — he was a bit more of a challenge. Although he goes out to play on the Net pretty much as often as he likes, the security people from Slobodan Narodny try to keep an eye on their ambassador’s son. So we needed to give him a strong reason to ditch any trailing bodyguards. Luckily, I had the perfect button to push.”

Rob turned to Matt. “I borrowed your stick man and put him together with the Idiom Savant program.”

Another set of keys pushed, and the hologram changed to Leif Anderson’s whimsical stick figure spitting words in Serbo-Croatian. Serge gave a roar and tried to pull free of the two guys holding on to him. In seconds, however, they had him efficiently — and brutally — pinned to the floor.

“In case you’re wondering, that speech your proxy is spouting runs something along the lines of ‘give me money or I spill everything to your father and his government.’ It’s a little more insulting and nasty in the Balkan version.”

Shaking his head, Rob gave another chuckle. “You should be glad old Serge never saw your face,” he told Matt. “When he went to meet with you to pay the first installment, he was carrying this.”

Rob reached into his back pocket and pulled out an old semi-automatic pistol. It was an ancient Army M9, the Beretta 9mm side arm used around the turn of the century. Probably it had gone off to the Balkans with one of the many peacekeeping forces sent there over the years, been lost, used by several sides in the seemingly never-ending wars and feuds in the region, and now returned to the United States in somebody’s diplomatic luggage.

“Luckily, our reception committee was able to take it away from him before anybody got hurt.”

Rob glanced at Serge, who lay groaning under the weight of his two guards. “At least,” Rob added, “before anyone got hurt too badly.”

Luc Valery stared wildly down at his friend, at the guards, at the other prisoners, and finally at Rob. “Who are you?” he demanded. “What do you want?”

Rob gave him a slow, insolent grin. “I’m your fairy godfather, Froggie-boy,” he said. “Thanks to me, you got to go out and play to your heart’s content on the Net, doing things nice kids would never be allowed to do. I gave you interesting shapes to use, doorways to come back and have fun, and yeah, the occasional order. I’m Rob Falk.”

“You’re a coward and a killer,” Luc said. “You murdered Gerald Savage — or more likely, you ordered one of these thugs to do the job.”

“Actually,” Rob said, “my friend James here volunteered to take care of it. But then, he never liked loudmouthed bigots. Especially foreign loudmouthed bigots.”

Luc turned bright red. The veins popped up on the side of his head and the cords in his neck stood out through the skin. “You don’t know what a mistake you’ve made! My father is a representative of the French government! He has the ear of the ambassador! And as you said, Serge’s father is the ambassador for Slobodan Narodny! Whatever you’re planning, you’ll never get away with it! Our voices will be heard! And our governments will demand that you and your — associates — receive the proper punishment!”

Matt thought the young Frenchman was going to hurl himself across the table and take Rob Falk down. Certainly Rob’s friend James expected it. He pulled a pistol, aiming it at Luc. The remaining guard grabbed the diplomat’s son.

But Rob’s face hadn’t even changed expression. He’d listened to Luc’s tirade as if the other boy were suggesting that it might rain that evening.

“I suppose that’s true,” Rob said. “You guys — except for Matt here — are all pretty important.”

“Depend on it!” Luc threatened. “We’ll tell—”

“LET ME FINISH!” The words rapped out as if they were being hammered on steel. For one second, the incandescent hatred that Rob Falk held for all diplomats blazed across his face and eyes. Then, as if he were slipping on a mask — or donning a proxy — he returned to the distant, ironic pose he’d used in talking to the prisoners.

“I suppose you might tell someone what went on here,” Rob said mildly, “If you were still alive.” He raised the old pistol and aimed it carefully. “Fortunately, that won’t be an issue.”

Chapter 18

Rob Falk and his friend James, the warlord of the Buzzards, filled the sudden silence with loud, harsh laughter. Rob lowered his gun.

The young computer genius stuck the pistol in his back pocket. “Oh, we’re not gonna do it now,” he said, as if this should make the prisoners feel better. “But we really have to shut your mouths. After all, you only served two uses for us. You could get into places that my friends and I — well, I guess you’d say we were a little too rough for polite society.”

James laughed again, but Rob went on. “The other use was to take the heat — create big headlines and make the big-time commentators and politicians buzz and moan about the state of young people today.” He sneered. “Why should we go to all the trouble of creating scapegoats if they’re just going to point the finger at us?”

“You got a point there, brother,” James said.

“Besides, if you die, there’ll be just enough tragedy to keep the publicity machine running overtime.” Rob might have been discussing how to talk up an upcoming dance, or how to get the word out about a charity car wash. Matt had never heard something so evil discussed so casually.

“So that’s it?” Cat said in a shocked voice. “You’ve used us up, so now you throw us away?”

Rob turned, grinned, and nodded. “Go to the head of the class! That’s exactly it! Just like you and your so-important friends use people and toss them away. Of course, we have to make it a little more permanent. But then, we’re playing for higher stakes than a good grade in Bonehead Computing.”

His voice dripped phony compassion as he leaned toward the girl. “Oh, I know it’s tough. All this time, you’ve grown up thinking you were a human being with rights and privileges. Well, I’m sorry, honey. But you’ve got to learn