Love On-Line Read online

  With every word the voice became clearer and more familiar. Orson felt his throat seize and close up: he couldn’t have answered if he’d wanted to. His eyes, staring at nothing, were as wide as those of a wounded animal, and what he saw in the shadows of his bedroom was the face of the girl whose voice sounded, angry and intimately close, in his ear; the face of the culprit he’d managed to track down, the face of the girl he loved.

  *

  ‘I’m being stalked,’ said Olivia to Rose.

  They were on their lunch-break at school, huddled together at one of the outdoor tables, the terrace nearly abandoned on this chilly day. Rose looked at her friend with concern. Although as well-groomed as usual, she looked tired and stressed-out. This was the first chance they’d had to speak together since the phone call last night, after the incidents in Illyria, when they’d listened to each other express their outrage and speculated pointlessly on who might have done it.

  ‘In … in real life?’ Rose asked cautiously.

  Olivia nodded impatiently. ‘Virtual reality, real reality, whatever – it’s got to be the same guy. Whoever made those voodoo dolls last night was attacking me, I’m sure of it. Why, I don’t know. But he knows my phone number – my unlisted number. He called me at two o’clock this morning.’

  ‘Who was it? Could you tell? What did he say?’

  ‘Nothing. He just said my number – to let me know he knew it, that this wasn’t some random wrong number – and then he just sat there, listening to me and breathing.’

  ‘Oh, Livy! How awful!’

  Olivia stared past her, holding up a hand to caution her to quiet. Rose turned and looked and saw Orson. He was coming towards them, and she was sure he meant to join them, but then something, perhaps in Olivia’s expression, made him check himself. He paused, lips tightening, and then he nodded at them and walked quickly away.

  ‘What’s eating him?’ wondered Olivia. ‘I was sure he’d want to plunge into a deeply meaningful discussion about the awful thing that happened in his precious Illyrian castle last night.’

  Of course he would; and now Rose understood why he hadn’t. ‘Not with you here. I mean, he thinks you don’t know anything about Illyria. If he doesn’t know you’re the CyberQueen …’

  ‘Big secret,’ snorted Olivia. ‘Some creepy pervert stalker manages to figure it out – what do I care if everybody in the school knows? She’s a dead issue, anyway. I can’t bring her back, not after what happened.’ She shuddered. ‘If he’d just come in and tried to rape her she could have fought back. Even if she’d lost, she’d still have her integrity. But to have her messed with like that, to see her kissing and cuddling up to a stupid tin man … I just can’t be the CyberQueen any more. She won’t be back.

  ‘You know, until I got the phone call, I thought the voodoo doll must have been aimed at Roberto, that he had some enemy who’d decided to get him, and the CyberQueen was part of the ammunition. But after that phone call, I knew it was me he wanted. That must be why he called: to make absolutely sure I know he’s after me.’

  ‘Did you recognize the voice?’

  ‘Well … it did seem like there was something familiar about it. It was hard to be sure, with him saying so little. But it was definitely a local accent, and his voice was grownup but still kind of young, if you know what I mean. Kind of a nice voice, really, and he didn’t say anything nasty or … but that breathing! Waking me up at two o’clock just to sit and breathe down the phone at me! Who’d do such a thing?’

  ‘So after that you were too scared to go back to sleep?’

  ‘No! What kind of a wimp do you think I am? I decided I’d better try to find out who he was, so I went to the computer and – surprise, surprise, of course he’s got an anonymous server. So I tracked down the billing record. And that’s when I found out that he not only knows my unlisted phone number, but he’s been using it to pay for his trips on the Internet. That creep is not only stalking me, he’s making me pay for the privilege!’

  12 Town Meeting

  Orson lurked in the hall until he saw Olivia and Rose separate after lunch. Then he rushed after Rose, trying not to look as if he was trying to catch her, stumbling over his own feet as he blurted out her name.

  ‘I need to tell you something – about what happened last night. I’m calling a meeting in Illyria, tonight, for everyone concerned. I’ve been in touch with the computer clubs at all the participating schools around the state, and posted a notice on the bulletin boards, but I thought I’d better try word of mouth as well, to get as many people as possible … I know it’s short notice, but I don’t think we can afford to wait. Have you been in touch with your brother?’

  Rose looked at him blankly.

  ‘I’ll talk to him, of course,’ he went on, ‘but I think Roberto had probably better stay away from the meeting. I mean, since we might have to talk about unauthorised access and how to deal with it … I’m sure he’ll understand.’

  ‘Oh, of course, Roberto … no, he won’t be attending the meeting. In fact, I don’t think you’ll see Roberto again. Now that he’s dead, he’s staying that way.’

  That Roberto would have made such a decision didn’t surprise Orson; although, he thought, it was ironic that an innocent outsider should be excluded when the silver metal man was actually a student with every right to visit Illyria. Why, he wondered, had Olivia bothered to use Farren’s ID number instead of her own? Was it to divert suspicion? How could someone appear to be so good and really be so calculating and aggressive?

  ‘So you have heard from your brother! He probably expected me to get in touch – I wanted to – but … there was something else I had to do.’ Orson was tempted to confide in Rose with her warmly sympathetic eyes, but there wasn’t time now. ‘Look, could I talk to you after school? We could go get something to eat or something, and then I’ll take you home.’ The smile that spread across her face made him glad he’d asked.

  ‘Yes, sure, I’d like that. I’ll just have to phone home …’

  ‘Great! There’s so much I’ve got to tell you … I’ll meet you at the side door, near the pay-phone, OK? If I don’t run, I’m going to be late. See ya!’

  *

  Orson looked forward to his meeting with Rose. He almost felt like he did when anticipating his meetings with Roberto, but it was different.

  He saw Rose and Olivia huddled together, heads close, before French class, and felt something twist in his stomach. It wasn’t going to be easy to tell Rose that her best friend had an evil alter ego on the Net, but he had to do it. Maybe she wouldn’t be as horrified as he was; after all, it was only a game.

  The last hour of the day seemed to last three times as long as usual, but finally the bell rang, and Orson dashed off. His heart lifted when he saw Rose waiting for him by the door, but sank again as he saw Olivia was with her.

  ‘Hey, Orson. Rose says you’re planning a meeting in Illyria to discuss what happened last night,’ Olivia said.

  He couldn’t believe her nerve. He stared at her, not bothering to look friendly. ‘Oh, you know about that, do you? I guess Rose told you.’ He couldn’t help casting a reproachful look at Rose, although he knew he had only himself to blame for not warning her.

  ‘Rose didn’t have to tell me. I was there.’ Olivia spoke impatiently, without her usual dripping-honey tones. ‘In case you don’t recognize me without the razor-sharp nails and leathers, I’m the CyberQueen.’ She smiled at his surprise. ‘That’s right, Count Orsini, I’m that irritating female. I’m sorry to butt in on your little tête-à-tête with Rose this afternoon, but it’s important. There are things we need to talk about which we can’t say on the Net in case he’s listening. I’m the one the silver metal man is after. Somehow, he’s got hold of my personal unlisted telephone number which he’s using to pay his bills. Daddy’s informed the police, but I think we’ve got a better chance of catching the creep than they do.’ She looked around, then moved impatiently towards the door. ‘Come on, where do
y’all want to go? We’ll take my car.’

  *

  The virtual meeting was held in the marketplace, by tradition a free zone, open to all, where personal feuds would be temporarily suspended. Because the incident had involved people from his school, Orson had been agreed by the Illyrian Council – that is, the officers of the computer clubs at the participating high schools – to be the obvious choice to chair the meeting. He asked them all to sign in as they arrived, and then he scanned down the list of characters, wondering if any of the names might be aka silver metal man.

  Olivia thought silver metal man was someone from their school, if not a current student, someone who had dropped out or graduated in the past year. ‘I created the CyberQueen last year, and I did some sketches and wrote a description of her one day in study hall. I was using some pages in my loose-leaf binder, and I lost them. They must have dropped out at school, and somebody picked them up. That somebody was silver metal man. I don’t know how he got my phone number, but it wasn’t through tracing CyberQueen, because my father’s office pays my Internet account. My unlisted number doesn’t figure into it at all.’ She had looked thoughtful. ‘The other reason I think it’s someone from school is that I almost recognized his voice …’

  Orson had then confessed his wee hours phone call. He’d been embarrassed, but Olivia seemed grateful. ‘Maybe he just used it because it came to hand, somehow, like Farren Wiles’ ID number. I mean, somebody must have given it to him, probably on the Internet, and that must be somebody we know, maybe somebody we’re at school with – but it doesn’t have to mean anything very much. It’s probably not personal.’

  Orson didn’t tell her, because he didn’t want to worry her, but he suspected it was personal, and very far from coincidence. Whoever the silver metal man was, he was willing to bet they all knew him and that there was a real life grudge being worked out in cyberspace.

  Orson finished reading the role of attending players – thirty-two in all, which had to be considerably less than a third of all Illyrians – and checked the atmosphere for the presence of ghosts.

  It was a beautiful, warm day with hardly a cloud in the sky. The sun was high and not overly hot, so that no one standing in the marketplace felt uncomfortable. There were no cold breezes, therefore no invisible watchers. If the enemy was here, he was among them, one of themselves.

  Count Orsini motioned to his page-boy – one of the bots he’d created at Roberto’s suggestion – to sound a blast on his horn to call the murmuring, restless crowd to attention. Briefly, he welcomed them all, apologizing for the short notice.

  ‘As some of you will have already heard – and I hope you’ll pass on the information to others who were unable to be here today – there was an unfortunate incident at my castle last night. Someone calling himself the silver metal man created a voodoo doll to gain control over all of us there, and used it to murder my friend Roberto and abduct the CyberQueen while Serenthia and I could only watch helplessly. Conducting my investigations later, I found that there had been unwarranted use of a student’s ID number to gain access. Naturally, I had to report this to the principal’s office, and the result is that security will be tightened and the access code changed to keep out unauthorized visitors, at least, for a little while.’

  ‘Oh, yeah, we all know how well those high security codes work,’ sneered Grey Hawk. ‘I’m betting the codes will be up for grabs on half a dozen bulletin boards around the Worldwide Web within two hours of being announced.’

  ‘Maybe this is just going through the motions,’ Count Orsini replied evenly, ‘but we have to do it. I’d like to ask for everyone’s help in keeping Illyria secure. If we can’t do it for ourselves, you know, we may lose it entirely. There’ll be a scare, and parents will start calling for Illyria to be shut down rather than risk their little darlings being infiltrated and corrupted by nasty grownup hackers.’

  ‘What if this silver metal man isn’t an outsider?’ demanded Violetta, a tall, gorgeous redhead with a full figure encased in a gold lamé evening dress. ‘What if he – or she – is one of us?’

  ‘I’ve considered that,’ said Count Orsini. ‘Serenthia, the CyberQueen and I think it is very likely that the silver metal man is known to us, and goes to our school.’

  ‘So new access codes aren’t going to keep him out,’ said Medusa, winding and unwinding the hissing green snakes on her head.

  ‘No, they’re not,’ said Orsini. ‘He’s probably among us now, and has every right to be. He could contribute a lot to Illyria – the skills he displayed in making a voodoo doll prove that. Maybe he did it to impress us. Well, why shouldn’t he stand up now and take a bow? After all, he hasn’t committed a crime. We can’t kick him out. There’s nothing we can do to him.’

  ‘Speak for yourself,’ snarled the CyberQueen. She flexed her hands, and the razor-edged nails clicked smoothly into place, gleaming with a deadly promise. ‘If I find out who he is, I’ll eviscerate him.’

  ‘Now you’ve scared him,’ said Count Orsini. He looked around at the gathered crowd and said coaxingly, ‘Why not accept her challenge? Are you a coward? Surely voodoo isn’t your only defence? Why not tell us who you are? Why not get the credit for what you’ve done? After all, there may be plenty of people here who think that what you did wasn’t so wrong, or even serious. Isn’t this life just a game? Sure, Roberto and the CyberQueen aren’t very happy with you, but—’

  ‘Thank you, Mr Understatement,’ snarled the CyberQueen and, snatching a mug of foaming beer from a passing vendor, she poured it over Count Orsini’s head. ‘That’s me when I’m not very happy. Me furious is something you don’t want to experience, I assure you.’

  Serenthia handed Count Orsini a towel she conveniently had hidden about her person. He wiped his head and licked a few trickles of beer out of his moustache. ‘Could we please keep this discussion on a civilized level? I’ve called you all here today to discuss rules and limits. Do we need them? What should they be? A good starting point would be someone to speak in defence of voodoo.’

  ‘Sure. And if anyone comes up with an argument in favour of voodoo, Count Sherlock Orsini will conclude that he – or she – is the bad guy.’ The speaker was Albertus, a large, grey-haired man in a magician’s star-speckled robe and conical hat. ‘I could construct an argument, but why should I take the risk of becoming an object of hatred?’

  ‘Is that what would happen?’ asked Count Orsini. ‘Does everyone here feel that voodoo should not be allowed?’

  ‘There’s no point talking about “allowing” it if it can’t be stopped,’ objected Blue Dwarf.

  ‘Maybe, maybe not. I think the first step is to find out what we all feel about it.’

  ‘What’s the big deal?’ demanded Medusa. ‘I’m a magic user. I’ve killed people with sorcery before now, and I will again. And, one of these days, one of you little fleshy mortals will probably kill me. I accept the risks. That’s the kind of serpent-head I am.’ She hissed, showing fangs that dripped poison.

  ‘There’s a difference between killing a character and taking it over,’ said Serenthia before Orsini could reply. ‘You can kill somebody because that’s part of the game. They have a chance to defend themselves. If you kill them, they may decide not to stay dead. But if you take control of somebody else’s character and make them act out of character, that’s … well, I don’t know what to call it, but it’s worse than cheating. I don’t like it. I’m utterly opposed to voodoo.’

  ‘I don’t think you can realize just how awful voodoo is until it happens to you,’ said the CyberQueen. ‘To sit there, helplessly watching, as somebody else puts words in your mouth, makes you do things you know you’d never do … A voodoo doll makes you helpless. You can’t fight it; you can’t fight back. It’s a coward’s weapon. A control freak’s. Only somebody who had no belief in their own intelligence, strength or wit would use voodoo. OK, maybe somebody would do it once, because they saw it as a challenge, and wanted to show off, but once
is enough, more than enough. Nobody would want to do it twice if they knew what it felt like to have your own character taken away from you, if they knew what it meant to be violated like that. Sure, Illyria’s a game where anything goes. Or almost anything goes. But it’s also like real life because it’s not a game you play by yourself. The main thing about Illyria is the people you meet here and what happens between you – the friends or the enemies you make. If you have to turn everybody else into your puppet in order to function, then you don’t belong in Illyria. You should just stay home and play solitaire. Get your jollies out of killing the monsters in some adventure game, but don’t come here and treat us like we’re nothing but bots you created yourself.’

  ‘Right on, sister,’ purred Violetta.

  ‘Amen,’ said Johnny Bee Goode, combing back his pompadour with near-religious fervour.

  Albertus raised his gnarled and twisted oaken staff into the air above his head. There was a crackling sound, and then the flaming red image of a voodoo doll in a slashed red circle appeared high in the sky. Beneath it, the fluttering, smoky words: JUST SAY NO.

  Desperado, Flash, Grey Hawk and Lady Purple began to cheer and shout, ‘No more voodoo! No more voodoo!’ It became a chant which was taken up, one by one, by every single one of the attending citizens of Illyria.

  OK, thought Orson, it’s only thirty-two … but it’s still unanimous. And he wondered if the silver metal man, discovering that Farren’s old ID number would no longer permit him access, had missed this inspiring moment – or if he was instead among them, pretending to be just another law-abiding citizen.

  ‘We don’t want voodoo in Illyria,’ said Medusa. ‘We kill each other in a fair fight, whether by magic, physical strength or trickery, but we don’t steal each other’s souls.’

  ‘Is this your soul, Medusa?’ asked Troll-Slayer, holding up his shield. It had been polished to mirror-brightness, and reflected the snaky head vividly. Medusa stared with her red eyes into the reflection without flinching. She hissed, and her breath caused the silver surface to fog, and then rapidly to lose its shine. The metal began to rust and corrode at speed under the impact of her poisonous breath.