Private Lives

Winters took a deep breath. “Anyway, I would take it as a personal favor if you all left Mr. McGuffin alone.”

His voice grew grimmer. “As for Stefano Alcista, his files are still under judicial lock, and I expect you to respect that. It’s against the law to tamper with those files, and I know you’ll keep that in mind. I am also sure that none of you would be stupid enough to try tangling with a professional criminal and known Mob insider. You’d end up worrying about a lot worse things than my reaction to an overeager reporter.”

Leif stared as Winters’s face became all planes and angles, as if the flesh had drawn tight over the bones of his skull. Wherever Winters had gone in thought in that instant, it was a mental landscape Leif hoped he never discovered himself. “I’d rather not have another person on my conscience when it comes to Steve the Bull.”

Winters shook his head a little as if he was trying to fling that thought away. His voice changed, too, as he said, “Now that we’ve dealt with that, welcome to the national meeting of the Net Force Explorers, October 7, 2025.” That was the official opening of the meeting. From this point on, everything would be recorded. The captain was clearly determined to route a path back to normalcy both for himself and for the Net Force Explorers, as quickly as possible.

Leif glanced around. Everyone was quiet as the captain dealt with various matters. By all appearances this was a typical meeting — just business as usual. But as the guest speaker was introduced, Leif couldn’t help noticing the tension that remained in the air. He was reminded of an old saying of his father’s: “You could cut the atmosphere with a knife.” Right now, given the stress in this room, a chisel or laser — one with a lot of firepower — would be a more appropriate tool. Despite the captain’s pleas, it was clear that this wasn’t over, not by a long shot. Leif could only hope that nothing terrible would happen before it was.

3

Several days later Leif sat beside his father in the Andersons’ living room, watching the family’s holo system. A recording of the now-infamous Winters interview played to its end.

“I can see why Captain Winters got so upset on-camera,” Magnus Anderson said. “Given the program, and the purported purpose of the interview, that was a pretty low blow, even for a would-be newshound. The captain made a pretty good recover, except for that single, unguarded moment.”

“I’m just glad I finally got a chance to see what all the fuss is about.” Leif glanced at his father. “Thanks for busting it out of Fortress HoloNews. I hope it wasn’t a problem.”

Magnus Anderson shrugged. Leif thought his dad looked a little embarrassed, which was odd. His father usually wasn’t shy about using his wealth or position to get something when he felt the results justified the means.

“It just took a little honcho-to-honcho communication, calling in a few favors,” his dad said. “Deborah Rockwell runs the Washington operation.” He hesitated. “She used to be an on-air reporter, and I knew her.”

Leif raised his eyebrows at the tone in his father’s voice. “Knew her?”

An uncomfortable pause ensued.

“It was back in the dawn of time, before I met your mother,” Magnus Anderson finally said. “We dated for a while.”

“It all comes clear.” Leif laughed. “You bummed a copy off an old girlfriend.”

“Which might teach you something,” his still-embarrassed father replied. “When you break up with someone, try to do it so that you keep a friend instead of making an enemy.”

Now it was Leif’s turn to be embarrassed. Leif’s last relationship had been fairly tumultuous, and the resulting break-up had been a messy one. The girl in question had been a pretty but spoiled debutante far too used to getting her own way and having exactly what she wanted. By the time Leif figured this out, it was too late for him to simply disappear from the picture. When he had finally tired of catering to her every outrageous whim and had tried to distance himself gracefully, the results had been — well, Leif had seen Fourth of July celebrations with less fireworks. Both the spoiled debutante and her parents were still after his scalp.

Thankfully, his father changed the subject. “How much ‘fuss’ has this thing generated?” he asked, gesturing toward the holo display, which now showed Jay-Jay McGuffin moving on to his next guest. The newsman still looked disappointed that his final question hadn’t rattled Winters into saying something inflammatory.

Little had McGuffin realized at that point what he had stirred up with his sledgehammer-style interview tactics. If he’d had the slightest inkling then of the trouble he was in for, he’d have looked nervous instead of disappointed.

“Fuss?” Leif said. “Oh, about as much as if that genius had rammed his face into a hornets’ nest. The kids who saw the interview were calling those who hadn’t while the show was still on. By evening every chapter of the Net Force Explorers in the country had heard of McGuffin’s dirty trick. A fair number of the kids decided to get back at him.”

“And how exactly was he stung?” Magnus Anderson wanted to know.

“At last count, about forty-five hundred phony subscriptions to various publications were entered in his name. He — um—‘enrolled’ in a lot of different newsgroups and got on a lot of e-mail lists,” Leif said. “All of a sudden, he started getting recipes for rhubarb pies, begging letters from every charity known to mankind, and information from the Flat Earth Society. Entomologists Online was keeping him up to date on the latest in insect research, complete with detailed scenarios on the private lives of fruit flies. My favorite touch was the guy who volunteered him to the Amalgamated Historical Simulation Organizations. They were pretty surprised at Jay-Jay’s registration form. Not too many people sign up to get virtually massacred by the Mongol hordes every time they go online.”

His father silently shook his head.

“Well, you’ve got to give the kid who came up with that one credit for originality,” Leif said. “I guess McGuffin wasn’t as smart as he thought he was. Not when he chose to very publicly offend a guy with a couple of thousand protohacker friends.”

“Especially when said friends are mostly under the age of seventeen,” Magnus Anderson said dryly. He looked for a long moment at his son. “And you didn’t get involved at all?”

Leif could understand his father’s skeptical tone. After all, it wasn’t so long ago that he’d gotten into big trouble for hacking into the private files of the Washington Post to help a Net Force Explorer friend. That had not, technically, been illegal. Leif had gotten the codes to get in. But it had been way over the line as far as his parents were concerned. And Leif had paid for it, big-time.

“I didn’t do a thing,” Leif told his father, trying to look as virtuous as possible. “I’ve learned lately to look before I leap.”

Leif didn’t mention that he’d been out the night that the “Get McGuffin!” campaign had started. Or that, when he’d finally checked his e-mail messages, all the best cybervengeance schemes had been used already.

“How about this other character?” Magnus Anderson asked. “The gangster — Alcista?”

“Net Force Explorers are not stupid. Even we know he’s out of our league. Besides, Winters personally asked us to butt out. No more ragging on McGuffin, and absolutely no fooling around with Alcista.”

Leif’s father nodded. “What’s the old quote? ‘Leave him to heaven.’”

“Shakespeare,” Leif said. “And it’s ‘Leave her to heaven.’ The ghost says it in Act One of Hamlet.”

Magnus Anderson gave his son one of those looks. “Well, at least you’re learning something while you’re giving your mother and me gray hair.”

Leif had nothing to say to that. Luckily, he also had a distraction. “My wallet-phone just went off,” he said, reaching into his back pocket.

It only took a moment to convert the wallet’s circuitry. Leif held the foilpack phone up to his ear. “Hello? Matt! What are you—?”

That was as far as he got. Leif sat for a long moment, listening, his face going grimmer with every word he heard.

“Yeah. I don’t think it would have made the New York news, either. Thanks for letting me know.” He sighed. “Maybe this will mean the end of all this nonsense. We can only hope so, at any rate.”