Chapter Three
In Which Bob Is Very Tired

Bob awoke feeling considerably refreshed. His morning toilette completed, he entered the living room to find Val already awake and bent over a puzzle applet. She looked up at his approach.

"Oh, good, you're up!" She immediately sprang from the sofa, ran over to the media player, and turned it on full blast.

Bob smiled, although the music was a bit louder than even he liked and Val had already tampered with the player's skin setting. (It had previously had the appearance of a classic wood-panelled radio; now it was an eye-watering criss-cross of citric colours that Bob couldn't even remember downloading.) But the cousins had much the same taste in music, and before long they were both singing along to the Beach Binomes' "110011001".

Once the song had ended and they were through laughing, Bob said, "Well, now that we've woken up the entire sector, what do you say to breakfast at Dot's?"

"Good idea! You don't keep very much in the pantry, do you?"

On the way out, Val peered closely at the portrait of Dot, smirked, and commented, "You know, Brown-Eyes, you really should clean this better if you're having company over. There are smudges all over her mouth."

Bob's face glowed like a descending Game cube.

"Hey! You've got more whipped cream on your half!"

"I do not!"

"Yes you do!"

"I divided it very carefully."

"Oh, come on! Look at it! There's loads more on your side."

"You're hallucinating."

"Here, I'll fix it."

There was a clatter of cutlery. The binomes in the Diner looked with interest at the sight of two sprites in Guardian uniforms having a miniature swordfight over the top of an extremely large waffle.

They had, unusually, been served quite promptly despite Dot's absence. Where Bob had failed with cajolery, threats, politeness, sarcasm, and bloody-minded persistence, Val had succeeded through a combination of confusion and outrage. First, she had pronounced Cecil's name correctly. She was probably the first customer ever to do so, and Cecil was clearly nonplussed. Then, when he showed no sign of serving them immediately, she offered (with evident sincerity and her usual eagerness) to get the food herself. Rather than permit this, Cecil hastened to bring them their meal.

Bob was actually rather relieved that Dot wasn't there at the moment. While he ordinarily preferred to spend as much time with her as possible, Val had a way of grinning at him whenever she was mentioned that made him reluctant to be in the presence of both at once. Besides, he was sure she wouldn't approve of the mock-duel.

He quickly disarmed Val, sending her knife pinwheeling past a pale fuchsia sprite who had just entered.

"Whoops! Sorry, Mouse!"

"That's all right, sugah. Who's your friend?"

"This is my cousin Val. Val, this is Mouse."

"Alphanumeric to meet you! Bobby's told me all about you. I love your hair!"

"Well, thank you, honey. The pleasure's mutual. So, what was it Ah just interrupted?"

Val put on a look of injured dignity. "Bobby unjustly accused me of hogging the whipped cream."

"Unjust!" cried Bob indignantly. "Mouse, look at this waffle!"

"It was a perfectly fair division," insisted Val.

Mouse suppressed a smile. "Well, if you think it's equal, and you don't, why don't you switch sides?"

The Guardians looked at each other, then at Mouse. "Where's the fun in that?" asked Val.

This time Mouse did smile. "Of course. So, Val," she said, sliding into the seat next to Bob, "you're a Guardian?"

"Well, a cadet."

"Have you been in many Games?"

"Some. But there're always a few full Guardians along, to bail us out. Takes away a lot of the excitement. Mostly it's just classes."

"Val's at the top of her encryption class," Bob put in.

"Really?" said Mouse happily. "What're you studying?"

As the conversation wandered off into a maze of algorithms and modular functions, the now totally ignored Bob transferred some of the whipped cream from Val's half of the waffle to his own and applied himself to his breakfast.

"So, what's on the agenda for today?"

Bob scratched his head. Val had been there for almost a minute, and he was running out of ideas. He had shown her around much of Baudway and pretty much all of Kits; she had oohed and aahed at the fancy homes in Beverly Hills and poked around the less restricted areas of the Principal Office (where she had spent a pleasant millisecond giggling over Phong's JPEG album). She had also spent a great deal of time with Enzo, usually with one or other of the adults in frantic pursuit.

"Hmm." A thought struck him, and he brightened up. "Hey, Dot! Could you give Mr. Mitchell a call? Maybe he'd take us boating."

"Just a nano, let me finish this spreadsheet…"

A Vid Window appeared in the air, facing them. "Sir! Ma'am!" barked the uniformed binome. "We've got another situation in G-Prime! It's worse this time. Could turn into a riot."

Bob sighed and rose. "Be right there, Chief." The binome nodded and the window closed. "Dot, I'll take care of the fighting. You find Matrix and do whatever you can to keep him out of it. You remember what happened last time."

"Why?" asked Val curiously. "What happened last time? I'd think Matrix would be the ideal sprite for riot control."

"Oh, he got the fighting under control, all right…" Bob grimaced.

"Ohhhh. Ooh." Val shrugged. "Well, let's go, then!"

"What? No no no. You stay here."

"But Bobby, this is Guardian business! I'm here for job experience, remember? If I don't go, what's the point?"

Dot frowned. "She's right, Bob."

"But you said yourself you're no good at fighting!"

"I should at least watch," insisted Val.

Bob threw up his hands, a beaten sprite. "All right, you can watch. From a safe distance," he added pointedly. "Any sign of the situation escalating, and you come back here right away. Got that?"

"Yes sir!" said Val, saluting smartly.

As they headed for the door, she added, "Do you think it will turn into a riot?"

"Nah. Me and Glitch can stop it before it gets that far, no problem."

He staggered back into the Diner several millis later, moaning, "The horror! The horror!"

Dot immediately raced over and helped him to the table she was sharing with a sulking Matrix. "Bob! What happened? Was the fighting that bad?" Matrix scowled even more deeply.

"Fighting?" Bob looked puzzled. "Oh, yeah, there was fighting. No, that was okay."

"Then what in the Net happened?" asked Dot, highly alarmed.

Bob slumped forward on the table. "We ran into AndrAIa on the way back," he said in a muffled monotone. "I said they could go shopping."

Matrix gaped. "You said what? Are you random?"

Dot gave him a look of pity. "Oh, Bob, you poor, sweet idiot. What were you thinking?"

"I was tired!" moaned Bob. "Riot control really takes it out of you. It affected my judgement."

"I'll say." A worried look crossed Dot's face. "Where's Val?"

In the same flat tone, Bob replied, "On the roof with Enzo, dropping data balloons on binomes."

"Oh, no!" Dot sprinted for the door. Soon after, the sounds of haranguing came from the direction of the roof. "What are you… bad for business… never stopped to think… User knows I…"

"So where's AndrAIa?" asked Matrix, who now seemed considerably less disappointed at having missed the fighting.

"Outside," Bob told the table. "She said she could use a hand with the bags."

Matrix sighed and got up. "Yeah, all right." Halfway to the door, he paused. "You sure you're all right?"

"Yeah, I'm okay. I just need a little—"

And then the alarm sounded. A bell began to ring, the sky outside darkened, and a pleasant female voice that sounded like it was coming from everywhere at once chanted, "Warning: incoming Game. Warning: incoming Game."

Bob rose instantly and started to run for the door, but after a few steps he stopped and bent over with his hands on his knees. Breathing heavily, he muttered, "Just give me half a nano."

Matrix glanced out a window at the distant purple glow descending on Kits, toward which two small figures were already flying. "No time! It'll be down in less than four nanos!"

Bob didn't ask how Matrix knew; the renegade might never have received formal Guardian training, but he probably had more Game experience than anyone else in the Net. "Ugh. Maybe you should take this one without me."

"No way! I told you before, I don't babysit!" With that, he grabbed Bob, heaved him over his shoulder without apparent effort, and ran out the door.

As Bob twisted, protesting, he glimpsed AndrAIa staring at them, several huge shopping bags hanging from each arm, and Dot hovering near the roof on her zipboard, desperately juggling an armful of brightly coloured balloons. Then they were separated, first by distance and then by a descending purple wall.

Chapter Four

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