"Yes, we have," he said.
"Not by ourselves," she said.
"We didn't have a baby-sitter," he said. "And if we had had a baby-sitter, we wouldn't have trusted her."
"Well, we do now," she said, smiling. "Guru."
"She's a witch, you know. She's put a spell on our son. No baby should behave mat well."
"Alex..."
"So, what is the attraction of this roadhouse exactly?"
"The food is supposed to be terrific, and they have a great live band."
"As opposed to a great dead band?"
"Has anybody ever told you how funny you are?"
"All the time."
"Yeah, well, they lied."
"Now who's being funny?"
"Anyway, the band is called Diana and the Song Dogs."
"What kind of music do they play?"
"Well, it's kind of, well, uh... country/rock/folk/blues fusion."
"Oh, please. Not another of those new-age bands playing touchy-feely elevator music-"
"No, no, nothing like that. It's just the kind of music you can listen to while having a beer. Foot-stompin', bug- squashin' music."
"Had a lot of that in the Bronx, did we?"
"We had radio. We had television. Why, we even had transportation that could take us to places outside our neighborhood."
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I see." o, you don't. But you will."
: you sure you wouldn't just rather stay home and ' the quiet? Just the two of us in the house? Alone?" ;led his eyebrows. "Guru can take Alex to the rjfor a couple of hours-"
Ife are going out. I am not going to become one of women who, if she ever gets the chance to talk to y, prattles on about what color her little darling's I poop was when she changed his diaper." : color was it?" get dressed, Alex," she said. Her tone was omi-
i roadhouse was called the Stone Creek Pub and Grill, | it was far enough out into the Virginia countryside I it took a while to get there. There were a lot of trees, ; was plenty of oxygen in the air when they found tig spot in the crowded lot. And there were animals ; in the area, too-less one skunk somebody had run r, adding a fragrant stink to the evening breeze. "fleez, what an odor," Toni said, fou wanted to come here." ; place appeared to be a converted barn, lots of open work and bare walls with old metal signs and horse and such hung on the walls. They managed to t a table, and it was noisy, filled with people, and busy. Michaels was fine once he had gotten up and past inertia. Toni was right; they needed to get out more, lying her back at work was good, but hardly restful, ling parents had put a big crimp in their lives. Mi- els really didn't mind, since he would usually just as stay home as go out after a hard day at the office, it was all too easy to turn into a couch potato who yed home all the time, warm and secure in the nest, baby hadn't helped that. It was easier to be where had everything they needed; if they went out, they to pack diaper bags with bottles and domes and rat
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ties and stuff, and it was a hassle. He had gone through that with Susie when she'd been a baby, but he had forgotten, it had been so long.
The waitress came, took their orders for pints of beer. Toni got something called Ruby-beer "with a hint of raspberry," ick-and he got one called Hammerhead, which seemed appropriate. The waitress promised to be back for their sandwich orders in a few minutes.
The band consisted of a woman in jeans and a work shirt with a guitar slung around her neck, a guy with a fiddle, another on a double bass, and one more with a mandolin. They cranked up and started playing a lively tune that did have a folksy-bluesy sound to it. The harmony was pretty good, and the song was something about doing cartwheels on a gravel road or some such. The woman singer-Michaels assumed she was Diana and the men were the Song Dogs-had a pleasant voice and an animated face. When she sang lead, she belted it out pretty cleanly, and she sang a nice harmony for the bass player in a couple of places.
She had her web page address painted on the front of her guitar.
Well, you could hardly get away from that, even here in the country. Hank Williams would have been amused.
The beer came, and as she promised, the waitress dutifully took their sandwich orders. Michaels went for the barbecued chicken, Toni got the Reuben, and they decided to split a small order of fries.
The band began another song. The words were hard to hear, given the noise of the diners, but everybody seemed to be having a great time. And, Michaels had to admit, he was feeling pretty good himself. It had been a long time since he and Toni had been out together.
The band got through another tune and the food arrived. The basket of fries was huge, the sandwiches also generous, and the waitress brought catsup and vinegar and
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and plopped them onto die table. Along with a f napkins.
glad we decided to get a small order of fries," said.
why they had gotten all the napkins as soon as sauce squished out of the sandwich and ran r his chin.
die band's next number, a harmonica player ap- from somewhere to sit in; the Song Dogs sang œ traveling on the railroad and long stretches of empty , and the blues harp wailed like a train whistle, long nful.
els watched Toni, enjoying the look of pleasure face as she watched and listened to the band. This hat life was all about, wasn't it? Watching your i have a good time, and being a part of that? Drink- eating greasy fries, listening to a band-how I better did it need to be? He could do this. Definitely. I maybe that's what part of your problem has been A/ex, hmm? Too much willingness to drop work home to play with the baby? To lie in bed with hen before you'd have been up and at work before < else got there?
els felt a stab of guilt at that thought. It was true, still did a good job. But for the last few months, |heart just hadn't been in it the same way. He wasn't ay man the way he had been before. He wanted this wife, this baby, in ways he hadn't enjoyed wife and child. He had put them second, behind and as a result, he had lost them. He wasn't going i Toni and the baby.
t that fair to Net Force ? Didn 't the agency deserve a dedicated to it first, before anything? When he t about it, yeah, maybe. Then again-who could do r job than he was doing? Even at three-quarter speed, still faster than anybody else around, wasn't he?
Now there's a great rationalization, on, he told himself. Isn't it better for the com
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pony if I'm relaxed, comfortable, at ease with myself? Doesn't a happy worker do a better job?
There's an even funnier one, Alex. Give us another.
He was beginning to get seriously pissed off at his inner voice when his virgil cheeped. He and Toni exchanged looks. This was not apt to be good news.
16
a, Morocco
off the desert was hot, dry, and carried in it a ' powdery dust and fine sand that swirled through ' as if alive, changing into an irritating, gritty mud got into Jay's eyes.
.good touch, that, he thought. Even if he did have to 3 himself.
in Northern Africa as in Europe, everyone knew as on the horizon, if not exactly where and when it arrive, and things were about to change, as they I change everywhere.
' stepped into the nightclub and out of the wind, amid | babble of half a dozen languages. There were well- foreigners in their silk and linen suits, mostly , a few women. Natives, dressed in colorful robes and I designed to keep the sun and sand out, sat at some ; small round tables, drinking something mysterious brown bottles.
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It was almost like film noir: dark and moody with stark contrasts everywhere.
The ceiling fans twirled slowly, barely stirring the warm air. The piano player worked on some heartbreaking torch number, and a native bartender cleaned drink glasses behind a long, curved mahogany bar that had been age-polished to a dull gleam. A mirror behind the bar reflected the racks of liquor bottles: scotch, bourbon, gin, vodka, absinthe...
"Eon your," Jacques said as Jay approached the bar. "Emile, a drink for my friend!"
The bartender gave Jay a fish-eye look. "What may I serve you, friend?"
"Absinthe," Jay said. What the hell, it wasn't going to drive him mad here.
The bartender shook his head and went to fetch the bottle.
"Hot day, no?" Jacques said.
"Hot enough."
The bartender returned with a dark green glass bottle. He poured a small bit of the liqueur, which was also as green as an emerald, into a glass. Then he poured a shot glass of cold water over a perforated teaspoon full of sugar and allowed it to drip into the container. The absinthe's green turned a smoky, opaque white as the sugared water mixed with it. Without the sugar, it would have been too bitter to drink, and even so, it still bit the tongue pretty hard.
Jay knew from his research that the drink, which was partially made from wormwood, was illegal most places, and was traditionally used by artists and writers. Van
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[had used it, and the theory was that absinthe was 1 driven him mad enough to lop off his own ear. supposed to eat holes in your brain with regular
charming.
I raised his glass to Jacques. "Good fortune," he said. chance," Jacques replied. They clinked glasses,
have some information for me?" Jay said, after
: their glasses down.
my friend. I believe I have exactly what you |At a price, of course." |raised an eyebrow. "Whatever it costs, I'll pay it.
|fcrt. W
I before he could speak, there was an explosion. A Jay realized, as he saw the blood blossom on s's chest, over the heart. ; the hell-? This wasn't part of the scenario-.' œ dropped to the floor in a deep squat and looked in time to see a native dressed in one of those Shriner hats and a white-and-blue striped robe run 'the club.
| got up and sprinted for the exit, chasing the man. i this? How had he breached Jay's VR construct? "the alley, Jay saw the assassin running away.
t
itook off. Whoever he was, he wasn't nearly fast i to outrun Jay Gridley in his own damned scenario! t even as Jay gained on the running man, he realized n't going to catch him. The reason-reasons, ac, at least six of them-appeared right hi front of him. a dozen men, bare-chested, in basketball shorts , holding baseball bats, chains, knives, and what like a pitchfork, stepped out of the shadows be- i Jay and his quarry, yo," one of the basketball players said. "What's
baby?" guys were anachronisms-they didn't belong
142 NET FORCE
here, weren't right for the time, even if they'd been Jay's constructs. And they weren't.
What the hellll
As they moved toward him, Jay realized he didn't belong here, either. He didn't have time to come up with any kind of effective defense. The scenario was blown.
He bailed.
Net Force HQ Quantico, Virginia
Jay pulled the sensory gear off and threw it at the computer console.
There hadn't been any real danger, of course, only to his construct. After the business with the mad Brit, he had made damned sure there was no way to turn his computer into what was effectively a capacitor that might be able to deliver an electric charge through the sensory connections. But it was galling anyhow, to be forced out of your own scenario!
How had this happened? Somebody would have to know where he was, be able to get past his wards, and be good enough to reprogram the input without Jay spotting him. For all practical purposes, it ought to be almost impossible -well, at least with a player of Jay's skill it ought to be. That it had happened was irritating-and scary.
It had to be one of the guys who had bollixed the net and web. They'd already shown how good they were, and now they were putting it right in his face.
Now it was getting personal.
He swore again. He needed to figure this out. And, as much as he hated the idea, he also needed to let the boss know. If nothing else, it meant they were getting closer. You didn't get that kind of response if you were wandering around in the woods lost somewhere. He must be
CYBERNATION 143 ng awful close to somebody's hidden marijuana
, D.C.
to the music with one ear, and Alex's con- with the other. It didn't take long for her to |out it was Jay Gridley on the other end of Alex's
a minute, Alex broke the connection. it's up?"
ok his head. "Jay thinks he's getting closer to I guys who screwed the net." t's good."
; not. He says they must have set him up. Gave that he thought he could get some informa- when he went in, they jumped him-electron- ng."
$r
explained it to her. Apparently Jay had been from his own scenario. Which must have really out of shape, Toni knew. She'd never met a r geek who didn't think he was God's gift to elec-
: other than a bruised ego, no harm done, right?" nodded. "That's how I see it. But as he pointed ever did it must know he's looking for them. And where he might be apt to look. Which means aybe on the right path."
^nodded. "Maybe. Or maybe they just set a whole I of snares and one of them snagged Jay. He gets t out, goes charging down the trail, and maybe he's ; exactly opposite of where they are."
be. I don't have Jay's expertise to say." : it sounds as if the bad guys do. Not good."
144 NET FORCE
"Do we need to go home? Or to the office?"
"No, no reason for that. Jay was just giving me a heads- up. I asked him to keep me in the info stream."
"So, you wanna dance?" She nodded at the band.
A few couples were up, moving to the music.
He grinned. "Might as well. Can't get any work done here, can I?"
On the Bon Chance
Keller leaned back in the form chair, stretched his neck and shoulders, removed the sensory head- and handsets. He smiled. "Well, Jay, old son, that must have been a shock, hey? About to download a juicy bit of information and blap! your source gets potted and the alley is full of NBA villains." He chuckled. "I hope you had autosave on. You'll want to go back and look at it again, I am sure."
He stood, bent at the waist, touched his toes, bounced a little. He straightened, sat back in the chair, took a couple of deep breaths, and let them out, then reached for the wireless headset. By now, Jay would have had tune to think about what had happened, figured it out, and gotten pissed off enough to jump back into the net to hunt down whoever was responsible. Keller knew he would have done the same thing in Jay's shoes.
So. Now we give old Jay a new place to look. But carefully. He won't hit the next trap as easily. It needs to be... more subtle.
Keller slipped the gear on. Boy, this was gonna be fun.
Jasmine Chance was not a fanatic about it, but she did do enough exercise to stay in shape. It was harder to be a femme fatale if you were built like an overripe pear-a size six on top and size fourteen on the bottom. She used the stairclimber and the weight machines in the ship's
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forty-five minutes a day. She wasn't going to be ; any Olympic events, but she was tight enough to : twenty-five-year-old women jealous. Not bad dy past forty, (.leaned against one of the mirrored walls and took j from her water bottle. She was hot, and sweaty so her headband wasn't stopping it all from run- i her eyes. She wiped her face with a towel. An- minutes and she'd be done. Then she could and maybe have 'Berto help her stretch some cles. Yes. She'd give him a call, have him meet her cabin in half an hour or so. That would be Bt. : when she punched in his name on the ship's inter-
i was no answer, (tied his phone. Got a leave-a-message recording, frowned. Maybe he
was taking a nap, had the and his phone turned off? Wasn't supposed to , but everybody did. ^called Security. , ma'am?"
Santos in his cabin?" ma'am."
waited a couple of heartbeats. "All right. Do you bwhere he is?"
, ma'am."
5 waited a few seconds, shook her head at the literal- ess of the security officer. "Would you mind tell- t where? And if you say, 'No, ma'am,' I guarantee i be looking for a new job in about thirty seconds." , ma'am. He took a chopper to the Mainland about 1 ago. He's probably in Florida by now." she really frowned. What? She hadn't told him he (leave the ship! What the hell was he doing? by the hell was his com turned off? nything else, ma'am?"
s. Get me the pilot of the helicopter-call me when "ve him."
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She shut off the intercom. This was unacceptable. Unacceptable! Who did he think he was?
She threw the towel on die floor and headed for her cabin. She would find out exactly where Santos had gone, and he had better, by God, have a very good goddamned reason for going there!
Fort Lauderdale, Florida
Santos drove his rental car to the area called Sunrise, to the Saw Grass Mills Mall. It was a huge place, full of outlet stores, acres of parking, most of it occupied. There was a very ugly construction near an entrance, some kind of modern art perhaps, that looked like a giant unfinished house frame, colored the same shade as a pink flamingo.
These North Americans were nothing if not gaudy, especially in Florida.
He glanced at his watch. He was forty-five minutes early, and that was good. He wanted to be here in plenty of time to set things up.
He wore tan linen slacks, alligator leather shoes with rubber soles, and a pale blue sport shirt, and while it was winter, it was certainly warm enough so that he did not need a jacket. He did, however, wear a long and loose tan suede leather vest, under which he had concealed a .45 Colt Commander in a waistband holster over his right hip. The weapon was small enough to hide under a vest, but fairly potent. A hit from just one of the bullets would make any attacker pause and think seriously about stopping what he'd had in mind before he was shot. And while guns were not his joy, he knew well enough how to use one. And hi this case, he would be a fool not to have a gun, for there was enough money involved to be tempting to many people.
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