Deathworld

chair's muscle management routines. They weren't as effective as usual. Or I'm spending a lot more time in 'the great never-never' than usual..

Probably the latter. Charlie stretched, then wandered downstairs to the kitchen. He glanced around and saw nothing of his mother's on the table. She was already on her way to work, possibly having another in-service today and so having to do her change-of-shift report with the night nurses on her floor earlier than usual. Charlie sighed and rooted around in the fridge for the milk, poured himself a glass, and downed it. Then he poured another and glugged that straight down, too.

His father came in and headed for the coffeepot. 'Morning,' Charlie said as he went by

'Thank you for not saying 'good,' ' his father muttered. He was already in his whites. He got busy pouring himself a cup of coffee the size of a small birdbath in a big brown cup Charlie's mother had brought back from a nursing conference in Germany.

'Early seminar this morning?' Charlie said.

'Yup. Backbones again,' said his father, and slurped the coffee. 'Ow, hot…' He took the milk carton that Charlie handed him and poured milk into his coffee until it turned a very unassertive shade of beige. 'Better… It's just today and tomorrow, anyway, then life goes more or less back to normal.' His father sighed. 'Though I wish the school wouldn't run all these fellowship-program events at the same time that the accreditation team comes through.'

'Maybe they do it on purpose. To show how a good teaching hospital runs under pressure.'

His father looked at him with resignation over the cup. 'That thought's crossed my mind. Nasty idea. In any case, there's nothing I can do about it. Meanwhile, you were up late again. I passed you when I came in. Third night in a row now.'

'I'm doing research for a project,' Charlie said. Let him think it's for school. _ _

'What on?'

'Suicide.'

His father sighed. 'Still thinking about those kids, huh? Your mother mentioned. Sad situation.'

'Yeah,' Charlie said. 'It's pretty depressing.'

His father chugged the much-milked coffee straight down. 'Tell me about it. Well, ask your Mom if you need any more help… I've gotta get out of here.' He rinsed out the coffee cup, upended it by the sink, and headed for the door, pausing only to hug Charlie in passing. 'I feel guilty,' he said. 'The absentee parent.'

'It's not a problem, Dad.'

'I want a rematch on that chess game. You promised me best two out of three.'

'You tell me when,' Charlie said. 'Gonna stomp you.' 'Don't be so sure. See you later… '

The front door shut. Charlie stood looking out into the back garden, where the first rays of sun were beginning to fall. I have been spending too much time 'down there,' he thought. Good old normal sunlight is beginning to look strange.

But it was in a good cause, and Charlie thought he was beginning to make some headway. Shade… There was definitely something odd about her, a sense of her watching him closely for some reaction. Just hope the one I've found is the right one…

He slowly made his way upstairs with one more glass of milk. The information which Nick had given him was turning out to be very useful, both the 'walk-through' and the other info, the stuff about the kids he'd run into, Khasm and Spile. The rumor, confirmed to the two most recent suicides' parents, that drugs had been involved-and the information that this news was possibly being suppressed-all fit in very neatly with Charlie's suspicions. Especially the idea that they weren't genuinely suicidal. Someone met them, probably in Deathworld, managed to get close enough to them, physically, to get sco-bro into them and then set up their suicides…

Now all Charlie needed was to re-create the initial part of the setup, without becoming a statistic himself.

To this end, the walk-through which Nick had given him had been extremely comprehensive, not as error- ridden as Nick had feared, and Nick himself had also appended some material to it as notes which Charlie had found very useful. He sat down on the sofa across from the implant chair in the den, finishing his glass of milk, and thinking about his next moves, the ones he would begin tonight after school. Charlie had been able to get down to Eight in fairly short order. I wonder if the system notices things like that… Charlie thought. But then lots of people must tell their friends how to get through- it quickly, how to meet them places… It probably all averages out in the end.

Either way, I have to follow up this contact with Shade, and keep looking to see whatever else turns up. No way I'm going to sit around and let this happen to someone else. It's still May…

Charlie sighed, put the milk glass aside, and sat down in the implant chair-he still had about half an hour before he had to leave for school, and this was the best time to catch people. He closed his eyes, triggered his implant on again, and glanced around the lowest level of his workspace, where the 3-D and 4-D images still stood. 'Workspace management,' he said.

'Here, Charlie.'

'Is Nick Melchior available?'

'Checking that for you now. But this time does not match his usual online times for the past two weeks. Not available.'

'Okay, what about Mark?'

'Mark's workspace is available as usual, and he is in residence.'

'Good.' Charlie went over to the usual access door, opened it. The VAB's lights were on. It was early enough at the Cape that not much light was getting in. Charlie wandered across the floor, where he could see the RollsSkoda, its hood still up, and a pair of legs still visible.

'That thing giving you trouble?'

'Please,' said Mark, sounding tired. 'If you see the man who invented technology, send him up. I have something for him.' He stood up from under the hood and made an eloquent fist. 'I just can't get this thing's armor to stay solid when it should.' He sighed, straightened up. 'There's always the possibility that I've found a bug in the programming language itself… but I really don't want to believe that. It would be big trouble… '

The desk wasn't too far away, and Charlie saw the Magic Jacket lying over it as he had left it much earlier. 'Is it okay?' he said.

'It was fine,' Mark said. 'I 'looked' in on you five or six times, just to check on it. No problems.' He looked at Charlie, with a rather challenging expression. 'Except with you. You didn't seem terribly comfortable down there.'

'I hate it, the whole fake-seeming business,' Charlie said. 'Skulking and acting… I don't like not being me. Being me is hard enough, without having to fake being someone else as well.' He let out a long breath. 'But I guess this is in a good cause.'

'You'd better believe it is,' Mark said, 'because you've had a trip.'

Charlie swallowed. 'What? Already? When?'

'Yesterday. Yesterday afternoon, actually. Someone unauthorized was trying to get into your space. I tried to get hold of you, but you were offline.'

'Whew,' Charlie said. 'I wasn't expecting anything that fast.' He thought for a moment. 'Mark, that means that whoever tripped the 'wire' has definitely been reading the message boards in Deathworld. I didn't actually talk to anybody until this morning, real early, before school.'

'How many people have you talked to?'

'Uh, six or seven. A couple have seemed interested in me… but I'm not entirely sure yet that it's more than casual. I should get a better idea later.'

'Okay. Well, you're recording everything… '

'I never take off the magic jacket… no matter how much it itches.'

'It doesn't itch!'

'It does. It fizzes. I feel like I'm wearing a can of soda.' 'Must be feedback through the implant,' Mark said, thoughtful.

'Can't you do something about it?'

'Not while you're wearing it,' Mark said. 'Let me play with it today if I have some time. I'll leave it in your space when I'm done with it.'