Too much reality

“Arij!” the professor’s wife cried as both she and Ibrahim leaped toward Arij, who had tumbled to the grass with a startled shriek. I rushed over as well, making the three-foot jump down off the side of the steps and landing at the twelve-year-old girl’s side just as she climbed to her feet.

“Are you okay?” I asked, taking her arm to steady her.

“I — I think so, Nancy,” she said, her voice shaky. “Thank you. What just happened?”

The university security officers who’d been standing near the family had already grabbed Agnes Fitzgerald. “I’m sorry!” the woman was exclaiming loudly. “I was just trying to help her; I didn’t know what else to do. I saw one of those red laser dots moving around on that girl’s face, like someone was sighting a rifle at her!”

“What?” The senior security officer looked grim. He gestured to the other guards. “Get them all inside.” Then he grabbed a walkie-talkie from his belt and started speaking rapidly to whomever was on the other end.

Before I quite knew what was happening, I was being swept into the building along with Aunt Agnes, the al-Fulanis, and everyone else in the vicinity. Things were chaotic for the next few minutes as the guards started searching and questioning Agnes and everyone else who’d been nearby. I had to wait a few minutes for my turn, and found myself wishing I hadn’t forgotten to grab my cell phone out of the car before leaving it at the garage. My friends were probably wondering where I was.

“Did you see anything, miss?” an earnest-looking guard with a freckled face and a prominent Adam’s apple finally asked me. He looked so young he could have passed as a freshman at the university.

“Not really,” I said. “Did you guys question Aunt Agnes already? Er, I mean Agnes Fitzgerald?”

The young guard looked confused. “Um, what?” he said. Then he frowned. “Wait, I’ll ask the questions, if you don’t mind. Now, did you notice this red laser thingie while you were outside?”

I shook my head. “No, but I wasn’t looking at Arij when it happened. Actually, I was talking with Agnes. But listen, did she say whether she could tell what direction it might be coming from?”

“Hey,” the guard exclaimed uncertainly. “Didn’t I just speak to you about —”

“It’s all right, Maxwell.” A tall, blond woman cut him off as she strode briskly up to us. “I’ll take over from here if you don’t mind.”

I smiled with relief. “Hi, Detective Johansen,” I greeted the longtime police officer, one of my favorites on the River Heights force, as the young guard wandered off. “So what’s going on here? Was the professor’s family really in any danger?”

“Wish I knew, Nancy.” She shrugged. “The press conference is over, obviously, and we’re searching all the buildings for a possible sniper. So far, nothing.” She winked. “But you didn’t hear it from me, okay?”

“My lips are sealed.” I smiled at her. “Thanks. So is my interview over?”

“Sure. You’re free to go, Nancy. My best to your father, okay?”

“Absolutely.” I waved to her then turned away, wondering if there was any chance of me getting to talk to Aunt Agnes at this point.

Just then the crowd parted slightly and I spotted Ned standing just ahead. I hurried over to him.

“Nancy!” he greeted me, his forehead creased with worry. “This is nuts, huh?”

“Yeah, no wonder you were so anxious to find Ibrahim earlier,” I exclaimed.

“Uh, yeah.” He frowned slightly.

I bit my lip, belatedly realizing how that might have sounded. For some reason, Ned seemed to think I was spending too much time with Ibrahim. That was crazy, of course — I was just being friendly. But it was weird to think that Ned might actually be jealous. He normally wasn’t the type. At least I hadn’t thought he was.

“Hey, listen,” I blurted out, trying to head off any possible misunderstanding. “I was thinking — should we reschedule that date for next Friday night?”

He blinked, looking surprised. “What? Oh, uh, sure, I guess. Friday sounds good.”

“Ned!” Just then Aisha Beck rushed up to us.

“Listen, I think I just convinced the cops to let me interview the woman who shoved the al-Fulani girl. Can you see if you can talk to Chief McGinnis, get him to make a statement?”

“I’m on it,” Ned replied immediately. He shot me one last glance. “Friday,” he said.

“Friday,” I repeated, though I wasn’t sure he heard me as he disappeared into the crowd.

“So you were standing right there when it happened?” Bess asked as she spun the wheel to make the turn onto River Street.

“What can I say? I have a knack for being in the right place at the right time,” I quipped. I’d just finished telling my friends about what had happened.

“Red laser dot, huh?” George mused from the backseat. “That doesn’t necessarily mean it was a rifle sighting on her. It could’ve been one of those laser pointer gizmos. Lots of professors at the university use them, and anyone else could get one easily enough.”

I nodded. “I thought of that. Even so, it still seems suspicious that it would be trained on Arij at that particular moment. Maybe someone’s trying to scare her — or, rather, her dad.”

“Could be,” Bess agreed. “Poor thing! Imagine having to deal with all this at age twelve.”

“I know.” I sighed. “I can’t help feeling guilty about it, too.”

“You? Why?” George asked.

I shrugged, glancing out the car window as we passed Barbara’s Beans. “I know it’s silly. But I can’t help wondering if I — or, rather, my latest case — might have contributed even slightly to what happened today.”

Bess shot me a look. “You mean the stuff with Ibrahim on BetterLife? Do you really think that could be connected to all this?”

“Who knows? The timing is certainly interesting.”

“Then there’s only one thing to do,” George said. “Go back online. See what’s happening there, see if you can figure out who’s controlling Guitarlvr15, maybe check into that UrNewReality character a little more, and then decide what to do.”

I hated to admit it, but she was right. “All right,” I said reluctantly. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to sniff around a little. Virtually speaking, that is.”

Minutes later we were in George’s bedroom, ensconced in front of the wall of computers on her desk. She always has half a dozen or so there, with several of them usually half taken apart. With her obsession for technology and a limited budget, she’s developed a talent for rebuilding computers and other gadgets that others have discarded.

“Thirty new messages since the last time we checked,” she reported as she clicked through to BetterLife. “Including one from your new pal.”

I leaned forward. The first three or four message headlines were the usual outraged textspeak drivel. But after that was a new one from UrNewReality with the subject line breaking news. George clicked on it to reveal the message:

UNR IS WATCHING U

UNR KNOWS WHERE U GO & WHAT U DO

UNR HOPES U LEARNED SOMETHING @ SK00L 2DAY

“Yikes,” Bess said. “Kind of sounds like he knows you were just at the university, doesn’t it?”

“Maybe, or maybe not,” I said thoughtfully. “If this UrNewReality person thinks I’m just another middle schooler because that’s where my avatar hangs out, it might be a random comment.”

George looked doubtful. “In case you forgot, it’s Saturday.”

“Good point.” I rubbed my chin and stared at the message. “I have to admit, this is more than a little suspicious.”

“Not to mention creepy,” Bess added.

Meanwhile George was already clicking out of my in-box and into the main game portal. Soon we were back at VirtualNancy’s home. The virtual protest was still going on, though the numbers had thinned and Guitarlvr15 was nowhere in sight.

“I guess it’s time to let VirtualNancy do some sleuthing,” I said. “Let’s bring her outside.”

“Are you sure?” Bess’s eyes widened. “But the protest… Some of these people seem really outraged.”

I shrugged. “What are they going to do, virtually kill me?” I joked.

Soon VirtualNancy was stepping out her front door. As Bess had feared, several of the anti-VN protesters immediately raced over, shaking their virtual fists or waving their signs. A few of them started yelling at me, but George quickly blocked them. Their rants still appeared on-screen, but at least they couldn’t harass me privately while blocked.

“Let’s go talk to my supporters,” I suggested. “Maybe one of them knows what’s going on. After all, there must be a reason they’re supporting me, right?”

The pro-VN people clustered around as VirtualNancy approached. OMG! one avatar said, rushing over. She was a young teen girl with a Siamese cat on a leash. PEEPS R SOOOOOOO MEAN 2 U!!!!!I!!

THX, George typed on VirtualNancy’s behalf.

Seeming satisfied, the girl and her cat wandered off. “Well, that was useful,” Bess commented.

“Check it out, here’s Ned,” George said. “I would’ve thought he’d still be doing the Clark Kent thing over at the university.”

“Maybe he just filed his story at one of the university computers and is checking in on BetterLife,” I guessed.

However, I was a little surprised to see NedNick02 in action at a time like this. Several of the other avatars, including the tall, blond MrNiceGuy I’d noticed earlier, were marching around in circles without changing their pattern or expression. I’d spent enough time on BetterLife by now to know that that meant they were on autopilot, so to speak — in other words, their creators had set them to keep doing what they were doing until they returned to control their next set of actions. But NedNick02 was definitely in “active” mode.

I leaned my elbows on George’s desk to watch as NedNick02 approached, along with another avatar I’d noticed earlier, ParteeGrl21, the pretty young blond in the miniskirt. “Wonder if she’s anyone we know?” I commented.

“Maybe it’s Deirdre,” George said with a snort. “She likes to show off her legs just like this chick obviously does.”

I grinned. The three of us have known Deirdre Shannon since kindergarten. She’s your basic dictionary definition of a spoiled little rich girl, and George, particularly, finds her insufferable.

“No way,” Bess said. “Deirdre would never have a blond avatar. She once told me blond hair is, like, totally tacky.” She patted her own blond tresses and smiled.

“The hair isn’t the only thing tacky about that getup,” George commented, taking in the avatar’s go-go boots and plunging neckline.

On-screen, ParteeGrl21 addressed VirtualNancy. HI! she said with a smile. I’M PG21. IT’S NICE 2 FINALLY MEET U!

THX, VirtualNancy replied, thanks to George’s flying fingers. IT’S NICE 2 C PEEPS STICKING UP 4 ME.

“Stop using those weird abbreviations,” I complained. “I would never type that way — Ned will wonder if it’s really me.” I shoved her aside and took over the keyboard.

I’VE SEEN U HANGING AROUND LATELY, ParteeGrl21 was saying. U SEEM LIKE A FUN PERSON. O, & I LUV UR SENSE OF STYLE!!!

Bess beamed. “Okay, so maybe her outfit isn’t exactly vintage Chanel,” she said. “But the girl’s obviously got taste!”

NE-WAY, ParteeGrl21 went ON, I WUZ JUST GOING 2 ASK IF YOU WANTED 2 HANG AND B PALS WHEN U-KNO-WHUT HAPPENED. I KNO U DIDN’T DO IT!!!

REALLY? I typed. THANKS. BUT HOW COULD YOU TELL?

I HAVE GR8 INSTINCTS ABOUT PPL, she typed back. I WANTED 2 SUPPORT U.

Weird. How could some total stranger possibly know what I had or hadn’t done? And what good were “instincts” in this bizarre online world, where people could make up any identity they wanted? Talk about gullible…

My new friend was still talking. I’VE BEEN ON BL SINCE BETA, SHE SAID. SO IF YOU NEED ANY HELP FINDING UR WAY AROUND…

“Beta?” I said aloud.

“The beta version of the game, I guess,” George said with a shrug. “That means she’s been playing BetterLife for a long time.”

“Hmm. Sounds like she could be a valuable friend to have on here, then,” I commented.

Just then NedNick02 pushed his way forward. XOXO VN!!!! he said.

“That means hugs and kisses,” George supplied.

“Even I know that!” I said.

Bess giggled. “Whoa, Ned’s way more forward online than he is in real life!”

That much was true. Ned wasn’t normally the “hugs and kisses” type. It seemed that hiding behind an online avatar was allowing his inner tween girl to emerge! It was sort of amusing, but I wasn’t totally sure I liked it.

Luckily ParteeGrl21 didn’t seem to mind the interruption. She and NedNick02 were already trading introductions. HOW DO U KNO VN? ParteeGrl21 asked.

LOL — Y DON’T U ASK VN? NedNick02 replied. The avatar’s expression changed to a teasing grin.

VERY FUNNY, I typed.

UR NOT ASHAMED OF ME, R U? NedNick02 teased.

At least I hoped he was still just teasing. Given our situation lately, I suddenly wasn’t totally sure. OF COURSE NOT, I typed.

Y DON’T U PROVE IT BY GIVING ME A HUG? NedNick02 stepped closer to VirtualNancy and held up his arms.

“Wow. Way more forward,” George said as she watched.

I was definitely feeling uncomfortable by now. But what could I do? I allowed NedNick02 to put his arms around VirtualNancy.

AWWW, 2 KY00T! ParteeGrl21 said. DO U GUYZ KNO EACH OTHER IRL?

That was one abbreviation I didn’t need my friends to translate; I already knew that “IRL” stood for “in real life.” I was about to type in my reply when one of the anti-VN protesters suddenly rushed toward VirtualNancy and the others.

WE DON’T WANT UR TYPE HERE!!!!!1!!!1!!!! he shouted, raising his virtual fists. He was a big, beefy guy in a leather jacket with the handle KrazeeBiker.

I actually gasped out loud as I realized he was about to attack VirtualNancy. Okay, I know none of it was real. But it was still shocking to realize that someone could so suddenly turn violent, even online.

“Quick, have her duck!” George cried, reaching for the controls.

Before either she or I could do anything, NedNick02 flung himself in front of KrazeeBiker. LEAVE HER ALONE! he cried.

“Now that’s more like the Dudley Do-Right Ned we know and love,” Bess remarked.

Finding himself blocked, KrazeeBiker’s expression changed to an irritated snarl. His fists were still up, and I expected him to hit NedNick02. Instead, he turned and punched ParteeGrl21 square in the face!

Дата добавления: 2017-01-14