Gameprey

“Yes, sir.” Leif looked only a little chagrined, Maj thought. His naturally ebullient nature quickly reasserted itself. She wished she recovered from things so quickly. “I assume we know everything they know?”

“I think that’s a safe assumption,” Winters said.

“Fine,” Leif said. “Then maybe someone could tell me what it is we know.”

Winters recapped in clipped, succinct sentences. When he was finished, he said, “I was told you were searching for some information.”

“Yes, sir. The audio file Maj saved and sent to me through Matt. I’m not sure why it wouldn’t translate. It was in a variant of Kurdish, so I had to have a friend do the translation for me. There wasn’t much. The guy was just asking what Maj and Matt were doing there.”

Maj felt a little more disheartened. The night’s events continued to escalate in confusion.

“Nothing else?” Winters asked.

“No, sir.”

Silence filled the room for a moment.

“Back to your original questions about who was going to be here for the weekend,” Matt said “Andy Moore and I are coming in tomorrow.”

Leif leaned back in this chair. “I’ll make myself available for the weekend as well.”

“No other pressing engagements?” Megan asked.

Leif smiled. “None that I don’t mind breaking.” The other Net Force Explorers often teased him about being a playboy in the making.

“So what do you want us to do, Captain?” Maj asked.

“Keep your eyes and ears open,” Winters replied. “I’m in agreement with Detective Holmes. I think when the local PD gets to the bottom of this, they’ll find it was an advertising gimmick. Gaming companies spend billions of dollars every year in research and development and make billions more in sales around the world. A few fines for reckless endangerment barely touch their profit margins.

“But corporate espionage is a possibility. If someone was out to steal a game design before it hits the market and get out something similar before the game’s release, they’d impact that corporation’s bottom line in a big way.”

“As well as making some serious cash for themselves,” Mark added.

Winters shrugged. “Take a look around while you’re here. You people know this industry. If you find something worthwhile, let me know.” He looked sternly at Catie. “And no more diving off buildings.”

“Yes, sir.”

The meeting broke up with only a little more discussion. Maj didn’t take an active part because her mind was reeling with everything that had happened. The hotel staff had moved her belongings into Catie’s room. The police were busy ripping her old room apart, and all the other rooms had been booked. Maj felt better about not being left on her own for the evening.

Soon only she and Catie remained in the conference room.

“Are you okay?” Catie asked as they stepped out into the hallway and headed for the elevators.

“Me?” Maj acted surprised. “You were doing a trapeze act five floors up.”

Catie shrugged. “I’m over it. I’ll probably have a couple nightmares later on, but I tend to get past things. You seem locked in on this.” She paused. “Not that I blame you. There’s no telling what those men would have done if you’d been in the room when they got there.”

Maj felt cold inside. Actually, I think we know exactly what they would have done, she thought. “It’s the dragonrider. I can’t get him out of my mind.”

Catie smiled. “Cute?”

“Very.”

“Then it won’t be so bad thinking about him.”

“No,” Maj admitted, feeling some of her dark mood lift at her friend’s good-natured teasing. “The problem is that I don’t think he knows he’s in trouble.”

“If he’s at the convention,” Catie reassured her, “we’ll find him.”

“I know,” Maj said, “but I don’t think we’re going to be the only ones looking.”

7

“My dad would love this stuff,” Megan O’Malley announced.

Still feeling the effects of sleep-deprivation due to a long bout of insomnia during the night, Maj glanced at her friend with a little irritation. Megan didn’t get the hint, and Maj assumed that maybe it was because the morning sunlight streaming through the window made her squint and took some of the effect away. They sat in Catie’s hotel room at the Bessel Mid-Town, Maj still in bed and Megan at the small desk. Catie was in the shower.

“I’m serious,” Megan went on. “You’ve got mystery and danger against an interesting background. It’s an adventure.” Her dad was R. F. O’Malley, one of the hottest mystery writers in publishing.

“Sometimes,” Maj croaked in a sleep-filled voice, “adventures are better in fiction instead of happening to real people.”

“Like you would ever pass up the opportunity,” Megan retorted. “I know you’re planning on canvassing the convention downstairs as soon as you can.” Megan was already prepared to meet the day. Her brown hair was pulled back the way she wore it for her martial arts meets, and her hazel eyes gleamed.

“Catie blabbed.”

Megan shrugged. “We talked. You were asleep. And have I ever had the chance to tell you how cute you are when you sleep? Especially the whole open-mouthed snoring thing?”

“Don’t even go there.” Maj glanced at the time/date stamp on the holo playing high on the opposite wall. The cartoon channel was on, showing a popular Japanimation series Catie was currently hooked on. Her artistic interests were varied. It was 9:15 A.M. Maj figured she’d gotten maybe four hours of sleep. “The convention officially opens at ten.”

“I know,” Megan said. “I passed a number of people out in the halls downstairs who were setting up last- minute details to their booths. It’s a madhouse.”

Someone knocked on the door.

Apprehension instantly filled Maj, and she hated that it did. How long is it going to be before I feel safe away from home again?

Megan smiled. “I ordered room service, breakfast for three.” She uncoiled from the seat behind the desk and slipped her Universal Credit Card from the small purse she carried. “On me. I wanted to splurge this morning.”

“You could have warned me. I look as if I could be declared a federal disaster area.”

“Then breakfast in bed wouldn’t have been a surprise.” Megan walked to the door. “Besides, it’s probably a maid, and what’s she going to care?” She opened the door and a handsome young man in an immaculate hotel uniform pushed a service cart into the room. He uncovered the breakfast buffet scattered on the various platters, swiped Megan’s Universal Credit Card through the portable reader, and smiled at Maj.

Maj smiled back weakly, wishing she could turn invisible.

The handsome young man left.

“Or maybe it won’t be a maid,” Megan said. “There is an up side to this. He’s going to think you were Catie.”

“Who’s going to think she was Catie?” Catie stood in the bathroom doorway, her hair turbaned in a white towel. She wore pink and charcoal striped pedal-pushers and a white sweater with the sleeves pushed up to mid- forearm.

“Room service,” Megan declared, waving toward the service tray.

“Room service is going to think Maj was me?” Catie asked, glancing at her friend. “Should I care?”

“He was really cute,” Megan answered.

Catie studied Maj more closely. “Is character assassination a crime in this state?”

“My dad makes a living at it,” Megan said.