tries before he could sheathe his saber.
He shook his head. Clashing blades were all very fine in competitions with rules or in holo or in literature. But this hadn't even been steel to steel dueling-just a silent, murderous attempt to turn Leif into mincemeat. Tonight he'd almost been exiled from Latvinia-in about the hardest way he could imagine.
Leif clenched his hands, trying to still them. He'd joked about what seemed to happen to him whenever he touched a sword in Latvinia. But it really began to seem as though the sim was as hostile to him as it had been to Roberta Hendry.
He pushed that thought aside as he turned to Sergei. 'Do you think we can keep this quiet for the time being?' he said as royal guardsmen appeared from the stairway. 'It's not just that we'd be breaking up the party downstairs-some people might get ideas if they heard about an assassin being stopped this close to the royal apartments.'
Sergei ran an eye over the arriving military men. 'No problem,' he assured Leif. 'Most of these, I think, are nonrole-playing characters. Everybody who wants to be anybody was going to the ball tonight.'
He touched the insignia at this throat, 'In any event, I outrank them. Let's see what can be done.'
Leif figured that any statements that had to be made could be taken care of the next day. Sergei accompanied him up to his room, but even so he cautiously peered into shadows and checked out dark doorways all along the route. Once he was safely locked in, Leif synched out. Then he sat up on his computer-link couch, stretched, and headed immediately for a shower. He no longer had the nick under his clavicle, but his clothes were drenched with cold sweat.
Even though he could barely keep his eyes open, he knew that dried sweat would itch like crazy all night if he didn't deal with it. Leif went to bed, tossing and turning from an unending stream of nightmares.
In the worst of them, he faced the murderous assassin again. But this time the ever-moving blade of the killer's rapier didn't just move as if it were alive. It was alive, turning into a poisonous cobra which leaped and bit him right under the collarbone….
Leif found himself half out of bed after that one, his head on the floor, both hands clutching at his chest. His heart was pounding as if he'd run up the stairs to the top of the Washington Monument.
'Don't know which is worse,' he mumbled, stumbling for the bathroom. 'Slaney's goofball veeyar creation, or the sims my own subconscious is sticking me with.'
One thing was sure. He literally had Latvinia on the brain. Leif looked at the clock, shook his head, and padded down the hallway to the kitchen.
His father was just finishing breakfast as Leif came in-he was eating doctor-approved cereal and skim milk instead of the bacon and eggs Magnus Anderson preferred. Leif sniffed the air, but it seemed there was no coffee for him to wake up and smell.
Magnus Anderson held out the cup in his hand. 'Tea,' he said with some disgust. 'The latest advice from my doctor. I'm not sure the stress of deprivation and caffeine addiction isn't doing more damage than good.'
'I need more of a caffeine jolt,' Leif said, making a beeline for the coffeemaker, where he gathered together the makings of a full pot.
'You were in bed early enough-tucked in by the time I got home,' Leif's father said. 'Although I know you consider anything shy of eight-thirty in the morning uncomfortably close to dawn, you should have gotten a decent night's sleep. What's up?'
'Nightmares,' Leif replied, regretting it even as the word left his lips. 'I had a pretty intense sword fight in Latvinia last night, and I relived it-with worse details- in my sleep.'
'When veeyar first came in, a lot of people were afraid that would happen to their children-the little ones would be too stimulated.' Magnus Anderson gave his son a dubious look. 'I never heard you complain about such a thing before.' He hesitated. 'If this sim is upsetting you, maybe it would be just as well if you stayed out of it.'
Leif shook his head. 'I'm not going to let a bunch of electrons scare me away/' he said. 'Besides, there are real-life consequences to consider. Megan O'Malley would skin me alive if I pulled out now.'
His father shook his head. 'Your most dependable motive,' he said in a dry voice. 'Cherchez la femme.'
That was actually a popular French line-'search for the woman.' Leif didn't know how to interpret or answer that, but luckily he was spared. Magnus Anderson glanced at his watch and put his cup down. 'Early morning meetings.' He sighed. 'Do you mind dealing with these dishes before your mother sees them?'
Leif shrugged. 'I'll take care of them. Don't worry about it, Dad,' he said. 'Look on the bright side. With luck, they may drag you off to a power breakfast at that meeting of yours.'
His father grinned. 'I can only hope so. It would be rude of me to refuse such hospitality.'
Leif saw his father out the door, returned to the kitchen, and poured himself a cup of coffee. The refrigerator was noticeably lacking in the makings of a hearty breakfast-clearly Dad was trying to avoid temptation- but Leif dug out some frozen egg whites. Adding chopped scallions and a heaping helping of ham bits, Leif constructed a reasonable omelet. There was fresh bread in the refrigerator, so he had toast. Washed down with a couple of cups of coffee-not to mention a generous dollop of catsup, the meal went down easily enough.
Leif spent a while fumphing around the apartment, catching snatches of several morning holonews programs, checking the weather, walking around. He couldn't seem to sit down and pay attention to anything.
Finally he took another shower, dressed, and looked at the clock. Maybe it was a little early-
Leif shook his head and went to the computer-link couch. He lay back, experienced the usual disorienting buzz between the ears, and opened his eyes in Latvinia. Apparently the Baron Albrecht von Hengist was an early riser today, too. Leif's virtual self was washed, shaved, and dressed-in a more informal uniform today. There was no trace of breakfast in the room, but Leif pushed that thought away. Instead, he went to the writing desk and dashed off a couple of notes. Then he rang for a servant.
'Please deliver these to the princess and the prime minister,' he said to the valet who appeared.
'Sir-Her Majesty requested your presence as soon as you were available,' the uniformed flunky replied.
Instead of being herded to the throne room, Leif was led upstairs to the royal apartments. Megan met him in a book-lined study. Sitting with her was the Graf von Esbach.
'It seems we owe you another debt, Baron,' the prime minister said. 'Had you not apprehended that assassin, last night's festivities might have ended very differently.'
Leif raised an eyebrow. 'I'm afraid I was merely offering the fellow some healthful exercise,' he said. 'Young Chernevsky was the one who ended the men- ace.
'By ending the intruder's life.' Von Esbach shook his head. 'I would give a great deal to have that fellow alive and talking.'
Megan finally spoke up. 'I only learned of these events this morning.' She surprised Leif by acting like a turn- of-the-century heroine, taking his hands and leaning forward.
'No harm done, Your-'
'I got an urgent priority message on my system, from our friend Alan,' she said to Leif in a low voice. 'Not good. I am not a morning person.'
'I had hoped you wouldn't hear anything until I could investigate,' Leif began.
'Quite impossible,' von Esbach interrupted, giving Leif a fishy look. 'Colonel Vojak was quite annoyed that you tried to cover up the affair. Especially considering your friendship with that anarchist.'
'Miss Gamba?' Leif said in puzzlement. 'What connection could there possibly be-'
'Anarchist literature was found on the dead man's person,' the prime minister said solemnly. 'I regret to say that the news has apparently leaked to the public at large. There is only one anarchist of note at large in Latvinia. I fear a good many people believe last night's attack was instigated by Miss Gamba.'
'That's-' Leif bit off the rather vulgar word he'd been about to use. 'Ridiculous,' he finally said. 'We don't even know who was the fellow's target.'
Who had the black-cloaked figure been after? Was the assassin aiming for the ailing king? Had he intended to ambush Megan? Or had this fencing wizard appeared merely to make Leif's life miserable?
'As for Miss Gamba, however one might disagree with her politics, she has certainly conducted all her activities in the open,' Leif went on. 'To accuse her of conspiracy-'
He was interrupted by applause from the doorway. How long had Alan Slaney been standing there? 'It is most gallant of you to defend your friend,' Gray Piotr said. 'However, we must face facts. With the amount of bad feeling against the young lady, we cannot guarantee her safety in Latvinia.'
Alan, in his role as Gray Piotr, nodded to von Esbach. 'I've sent a detachment of soldiers to bring her from the
