"Please come back to me, Page," I whispered to myself. After my run-in with Phanuel, I worried that the other LINK-angels might be on the prowl. I didn't want to leave the LINK door open for too long, but the page could be damaged or confused.
The LINK glittered coldly. If I gave up on him now, I told myself, I could check back for him in a few minutes. Just as I reached to close the connection, a white mouse scuttled in between my feet. I closed the door once he was inside.
Thank God you're okay, I said, kneeling down to inspect the rodent.
Oh, Dee ... I hadn't known you cared, the mouse said, rubbing against my outstretched hand. Especially after the way I treated you.
I pulled back my hand. Mouse.
The one and only, and I do mean one and only."
What have you done with the page? My avatar stood up. I opened the doorway, intending to kick Mouse back onto the LINK.
The mouse sat back on his haunches to peer up at me with beady eyes. With a flick of whiskers, he said, Nothing yet, but when I get my hands on him, I'm going to strip him apart ... line by line.
Despite myself, I chuckled. Mouse, if you're going to make threats like that, you really ought to choose a different avatar. You have no idea how silly you look.
The mouse's black eyes narrowed, and he darted up my leg. His claws, like needles, scratched my thigh. I tried to bat him off me, but he was too fast. Finding the exposed flesh of my hand, he bit down with sharp teeth.
Opening my eyes, I cried out in pain and grasped at the virtual wound that throbbed far too realistically. I pulled the LINK connection from my temple. The snap of electricity arched between the filament and my receiver, as I severed the active connection, but it was nothing compared to the sharp pain in the soft flesh between my thumb and forefinger.
I could have killed myself disconnecting like that, but Mouse's bite surprised me. Subconsciously, I'd gambled on the fact my connection, though open to the LINK, was more with the uniform. Though I could feel a headache starting, I was lucky.
"He bit me; Mouse bit me." In the light streaming into the open trunk, I inspected my hand. Turning it over and over, I checked for some mark. Of course there was nothing, but, as I wiggled my fingers experimentally, I could still feel the phantom teeth marks.
Pulling the lid into place one more time, I frowned. Stretching the aching muscles of my hand, I began to understand the seriousness of the page's warning about the LINK-Michael. Before now, the LINK had been exclusively virtual. Jordan Institute must have come up with LINK technology that not only could access emotions, but also exact pain centers. Having stolen that technology, Mouse had the ability to do real-time damage to his enemies. But, could he kill?
The damage I had done to the FBI agents was slightly different. After all, they were completely cybernetically enhanced; their entire body pulsed through complex interconnects of biology and computer technology. When I had "stopped" them, I had severed the line of communication between computer and synapses. I still wasn't certain how I'd done it; apparently, Jibril's biotech came with a few built-in miracles.
As a kid, I'd heard stories of people who had scared themselves to death or died of loneliness. After my battle with Phanuel, I was beginning to believe that was possible, at least in part. I could have stayed caught in his web of fear until my heart burst or I starved to death. If the LINK-Michael's purview was violence, perhaps Mouse intended to send enough anger over the LINK to cause a riot, or worse.
I shook out my hand. The soft flesh still throbbed. Clearly, since Mouse had the precision to send pain to specific nerves, the LINK-Michael might be able to tell the brain to shut down its involuntary functions, like breath and heartbeat.
"Damn," I whispered under my breath. If Mouse could send the LINK-Michael to stop a person's heart, he could kill anyone on the LINK. I had to locate the page and find out whom he thought Mouse might target ... besides me.
One answer sprang to mind. Mouse was clearly in league with Letourneau, and, right now, Letourneau's greatest enemy was his opposition in the presidential race – Rabbi-Senator Grey. From all the advertisements I'd seen, the public outcry for a real-time debate was high. If Letourneau was in fact a virtual personality as some people suspected, then he would need a distraction tonight. LINK-Michael was scheduled to wreak havoc tonight at prime time. Not a coincidence, obviously.
The tow truck slowed. I moved the latch as far down as it would go without connecting to the lock. Loud clanks and clunks signaled the car being released from the tow truck. An engine revved, and the truck sped away.
When I felt that I was alone, I released my death grip on the latch and opened the trunk a sliver. Bright, artificial light stabbed my eyes. I blinked away the watery tears and strained to hear voices. The impound lot appeared quiet and empty.
I stretched out my back, only to recoil quickly in pain. The ride had been rough, and my body protested every bump and tensed muscle. Pulling my legs over the lip of the trunk, I swung them back and forth. Pins and prickles danced along the pinched nerves.
As I'd hoped, the tow truck had taken me to the district police impound garage. Cars, most of them old and battered, stretched along the floor. Fluorescent bulbs snapped in the rafters. Somewhere up there a number of electronic cameras buzzed near the light like flies, sweeping the garage for activity.
I had to hide from them. Letting gravity do most of the work, I let myself stumble to the ground. Ignoring the pain, I shut the trunk and wedged myself under the car. Plascrete was rough and cool against my cheek. The thick, warm smell of old batteries mingled with the scent of rubber tires. I barely fit in the space between the tires and the electric rail connection, but tightness felt oddly comforting.
I shut my eyes and opened my connection to the armored suit cautiously. I ran a diagnostic and swept the area for any sign of Mouse. The LINK access door had been closed, and the uniform's interior appeared completely blank. As the search program completed, my avatar slid to a corner of the uniform. The search program illuminated the body of a mouse, lying flat on its stomach. I knelt to get a better look.
Closed, dark eyelashes stood out against the white fur. The little furry body was racked with deep, shallow breaths.
Page? I was certain Mouse would not leave an avatar behind inside the uniform. Since the LINK-door had been open when I off-lined, it would have been easy for Mouse to escape without being damaged. Besides, a non-AI avatar cut off from its host normally dissipated. Yet, Mouse had surprised me in the past, so I remained careful. Page? Is that you?
The little rodent shivered, and its eyes fluttered open. Dee?
It's me, Page. You're safe inside the uniform again. My hand stroked the fur on the image's back. I couldn't feel anything, as the action was virtual, but I hoped it gave the page comfort. It seemed to, as he stopped visibly shaking.
Mouse betrayed me completely, he said with a ragged breath.
You and me both, I assured him. You said the LINK-Michael is a killer. Who does Mouse want dead?
I ... I don't know.
Do you think it could be Grey?
I ... The page couldn't finish his thought; he was obviously strained. I felt bad for trying to pressure him.
I stood up. Rest here, Page. I'll figure it out. Just take care of yourself.
The page didn't respond, but I could see his breathing even out. With one last caress, I disconnected.