"Yeah, you're a hell of a teacher."

"You should just let me do it for you."

"This isn't a game, Chris."

"Yes, it is a game."

"You know what I mean."

"I've been after you for a year for a subscription to The Gate.What's the difference if I play for a while?"

"Because the psychopath who killed Aaron Larson created this game." He cast an angry look at his son.

Chris was taken aback at the harshness of the reaction.

Sebeck collected himself. "Chris…"

Chris adopted the intense indifference unique to angry teenagers. "No problem." He stood up and walked out-only to pop his head back in the doorway to say, "I was just trying to help,Dad." He stormed down the hall, then thundered upstairs.

Sebeck stared at the floor. He'd screwed that up-like most aspects of fatherhood. Listening to himself speak sometimes Sebeck wondered who the hell he'd become. In high school he'd been a laid-back guy. But that was before all this. And why was he not repentant? Even now he sat at the desk with a vague feeling that he should feel bad-but he didn't. Instead, he felt justified by the importance of his work. It was a coping mechanism he'd honed to a razor edge over the years.

He focused on that work again.

The computer game, The Gate,seemed infantile. Apparently, loads of people were eager to spend fifteen bucks a month to wander around an endless 3-D wasteland bashing rats, slugs, and zombies over the head. No wonder Sobol was rich. Sebeck didn't see the appeal in it, and aside from the arcane hotkey commands required to turn around quickly, it wasn't much of a challenge. Certainly there wasn't any thought required.

His home phone rang. Sebeck eyed the cordless handset suspiciously. He glanced at his watch. It was just after midnight. He picked it up and pressed "Talk." "Sebeck residence."

Ross chuckled on the other end. "Giant rats? You let giant rats kill you?"

Sebeck frowned. "You saw that?"

"I was watching you from a nearby hill."

"How did you know where to find me?"

"It's involved. Suffice it to say there are ways."

"Jon, tell me again why it's not stupid to be running this game on my computer. The Gateis supposed to have a back door in it."

"We're tryingto draw the Daemon out. You backed up your hard drive like I told you, right?"

"Chris did-although you can delete the whole damned thing for all I care. All I ever find on here is spam, porn, and pirated music."

"Look, there's something strange happening off the northern coast of Cifrain. I want to check it out, and you'll need to be tougher to come with me."

"I'm still stuck in this Briar Patch."

"Forget about that. I went on eBay and bought you a real character-not that newbie Conan cut-out you're running around with now."

"What do you mean bought? CyberStorm sells better characters?"

"No. People do. Students and the terminally unemployed build up characters the hard way, then sell them on eBay for quick cash. I bought you a knight of Cifrain for three hundred and eighty dollars."

"Three hundred eighty dollars? People actually pay that much?"

"Market forces. Busy professionals play these games to cool off in the evening. They have money but no time. Then there are skilled gamers with no money but lots of time. It's a natural ecosystem. Whole economies exist in these virtual worlds. A baron with lands can go for a couple thousand. I can loan you some equipment, but I want it back."

"I'll see if the department can reimburse you."

"I don't need real money, Pete, but the Cloak of Aggis I will want back. You ready to go?"

"I'm still trying to get the hang of the controls. Just what the hell do people see in this game, anyway? It's just bashing the same monsters on the head. And by the way, this artificial intelligence that everyone's going on about is nothing spectacular."

"You haven't even scratched the surface. You're in the training ground."

"The training ground?"

"Did you even read the FAQ?"

Silence.

"Okay, look: the Briar Patch is the starting level you need to graduate from before you can play in the main world. It keeps the world from being overrun with spastic newbies-no offense."

"None taken."

"Don't worry about combat commands right now. We've got to get moving."

"Shouldn't we wait until Agent Philips contacts you?"

"No point. The NSA is eavesdropping on your Internet and phone traffic, so they'll have a record of whatever we discover. You know how to end your game, right?"

"Yeah."

"Log off and get back to the title screen. You do it by hitting the Escape key a few times."

"All right, all right." Sebeck did as he was told. He resisted the temptation to save the current game and clicked all the way back to the main screen. "I'm there."

"Good. You'll need your hands for the controls. Can you put me on speakerphone?"

"My son's got a headset here."

"Perfect. Hook it up."

Sebeck hooked up the phone headset and put it on. "Can you hear me?"

"Yes. Click the 'Logon' command."

"Okay." Sebeck waited a few moments.

"When it prompts you for the logon and password, enter the following values…" Ross spoke slowly, "Logon: CLXSOLL3. Password: 39XDK_88."

Sebeck used hunt-and-peck typing to enter the values, then he clicked the CONTINUe button. An unfamiliar screen came up, showing a heavily armored, muscular human form rotating in space. It was like Leonardo da Vinci's sketchbook with heavy weaponry. At the top of the screen were the words "Character Name: Sir Dollus Andreas" in large type. Dozens of stats and hyperlinks appeared alongside the frame containing the spinning human warrior. "What the hell is this?"

"Your new character."

"This guy looks dangerous." Sebeck started clicking around the character sheet. It looked similar in format to his original barbarian-but all the categories were greatly expanded. He clicked through lists of weapons. "What's a Vorpal Sword?"

"Something I want back. We need to start out by getting information."

"Okay, what do I do?"

"Click the SPAWN button. I'll meet you outside your villa."

"My villa?"

"You're a knight. You hold a manse from the local lord."

"What's a manse?"

"It's land that produces income to support you as a knight. Just hit the SPAWN button, please."

Sebeck sighed and hit the SPAWN button. In a moment the screen faded out. His hard drive was clicking like mad.

"Did you spawn yet?"

"It's working on it." The screen faded in to reveal a large medieval bedchamber lit by smoky torchlight. Sebeck's point of view was from the foot of his canopied bed. Three men stood before him. The computer graphics were pretty impressive; so were the movements of the animated characters as they fidgeted and one shoved the other to pay attention.

The lead man bowed. The others followed suit. "Good morning, my lord."

Sebeck noticed two armored men standing guard at the bedchamber door. He spoke into his phone headset. "Okay, Jon, I'm in. I've got some guys talking to me."

"They're probably your servants. To find out what you can do with people, point at them and right-click. A menu will come up."

Sebeck clicked on the lead servant, then right-clicked. A menu appeared:

Follow me

Guard me

Bring me…

Leave me

Stop what you're doing

All of you, out of my sight, motherless dogs!

Sebeck selected the last command, and everyone in sight shrank back and scurried from the room-including the guards at the door. The door slammed behind them. Sebeck chuckled heartily. "This is just like the office."

Ross's voice came over the phone. "You called them motherless dogs, didn't you?"