Quinn walked down the corridor of the hospital, a large bouquet of flowers cradled in his arms. He approached Maggie's room, then slowed as he came to the doorway.

It was empty. The bed was neatly made. There was no sign she had ever been there.

He backed out, then stopped a nurse walking past. "Excuse me, where's the woman who was in this room? Margaret Beckett?"

The nurse glanced into the room, then said, "Oh, she left this morning. We tried to stop her, but she insisted on it. The doctor agreed that the worst of it seemed to be over. Aside from tying her to the bed, there was nothing we could do. And quite frankly, after the way she trashed her room last night, we weren't too sorry to see her go."

Quinn looked at the flowers in his hand, then let them drop to his side. "Well...did she say where she was going?"

"Uh, yes, she said something about needing to do some target practice."

Quinn looked down the corridor as he repeated, "Target practice."

* * *

Quinn walked down the lonely street to a building with a sign over the door that read "Sharpshooter Shooting Gallery." In the window by the front door, a small sign read, "Non- virtual weapons training. Increase your gaming skills with real-life practice!" Quinn pulled open the door and went inside.

* * *

The shooting gallery boomed with the sound of gunshots. Quinn walked down the aisle, passing men and women who stood in rows of cubicles, firing guns at the targets hanging across the room from them at various distances. They all wore ear-mufflers against the noise.

In one cubicle, Maggie glared down the sight of a powerful gun, firing shots at a human paper target across the room. As Quinn approached her, she stopped shooting and popped out the ammo cartridge on the gun.

"Morning, Mallory," she said. "Sleep well?"

Quinn watched her pull a new cartridge out of her belt. "Yeah. You?"

Maggie slapped the cartridge into the handle of the gun. "I've had better."

"The nurses told me you tore up your room last night."

Maggie sighted down the gun again at the target. "Just releasing some aggression. That's supposed to be healthy, right?"

"It can be." Maggie began firing again and Quinn winced at the loud report. He raised his voice to be heard. "But you gotta stay in control, too."

Maggie stopped and drew her gun to her shoulder, smoke drifting from the barrel. She pushed a button on the wall of the cubicle. The paper target began sliding towards her on a track with a soft hum.

Maggie nodded. "I am in control. I just...seem to be a little more emotional now. I couldn't help it. But I'm feeling better than ever. Before Rickman messed with me, I was an expert marksman. But remember on Fog World when I couldn't hit Rickman only a few feet away with a submachine gun? Well... that's all changed."

The paper target slid up to the cubicle's window. It was painted with the outline of a human being, riddled with bulletholes. Half of the holes were clustered tightly in the outline of the head. The other half was grouped together in the chest where the heart would be. At the top of the target was written the word "Rickman."

Maggie tore the target off its rack and held it up for Quinn to see. "I've got my shooting skills back. And that's not all."

She laid the target neatly on the shelf of the cubicle. Then she grabbed Quinn's arm. With a twist, Maggie flipped Quinn into the air. He landed on his back with a bone- shaking thump.

Maggie leaned over him with a satisfied smile. "My martial arts training came back, too."

Quinn looked up at her and spoke in a voice that was more like a wheeze. "I'm...happy for you."

Maggie took Quinn's hand and pulled him back onto his feet. She grinned at him. "Sorry about that. I couldn't resist. But you get my point."

She looked down at her hands, eyes wide with wonder. "All my military training is back. I feel whole again. Useful. I'll be a much better asset to the team. Have you told the others yet?"

Quinn rubbed his back, wincing. "Not yet."

"Good. I want to tell them myself." She lowered her hands. "I've..been thinking about the way I've been acting during the slide, Mallory. I'm not proud of it. Especially the way I've treated Wade. And you."

Maggie looked up at Quinn. She pulled off the ear-mufflers and set them down. "Mallory...Quinn...on Future World, I realized how much I missed my husband. But since I've got my old personality back, his death has hit me even harder. And I realized that the slutty...and that's the way I'd describe it, slutty...way I've been acting with guys like on the last world and Rickman, and even you...it was part of the old Maggie. What Rickman did to me must have shut down my inhibitions. It's not who I am anymore."

Maggie rested a hand on Quinn's shoulder. "I'm going to change. I'm going to go into mourning for my husband. Better late than never. That means no more fooling around. And...I know we settled this on Future World, but I just had to say it again...it means no more us."

"I gotcha," Quinn said. "And for what it's worth...it's good to have you back."

Maggie smiled. "Thanks. Now, come on, Mallory...I wanna paint this town red. I got a lotta catching up on fun to do."

The two of them headed out of the gallery with Maggie spinning her gun on her finger.

***

Rembrandt walked into the hotel room, his backpack over one shoulder. Wade was sitting curled up on the couch, watching a computer-generated basketball game on the computer set up across the room.

Rembrandt groaned as he staggered into the living room and slumped into a couch next to her. "Man, I got enough exercise to last me for the next three worlds. This job is gonna kill me. Whatcha watching?"

"Basketball game," Wade said. "One-on-one between Michael Jordan and Charles Barkley."

Rembrandt watched the polygon-formed people running around a rendered basketball court. "Looks like a video game."

"It is. They don't play real sports in this world. Michael Jordan and Charles Barkley are the computer basketball champions of the world. They're playing each other over the Internet."

"Man, you know a world is screwed up when they don't appreciate the glory of real hoops." Rembrandt looked around. "Where's Max?"

Wade smirked. "Where else? On the computer in his bedroom."

Rembrandt looked over the couch to the closed bedroom door. "He's still on the Net?"

"Hasn't left it all day." Wade leaned closer and whispered. "Says he's still developing that theory of his, but I also caught him looking at some wine and fishing websites."

Rembrandt gave off his high-pitched laugh. "So much for his claims that computers are worthless."

"Yeah. But..." She lowered her voice and her smile disappeared. "I'm kinda worried about him. I don't think he slept last night, and I haven't seen him come out all day for breakfast, lunch, or dinner. I think he's addicted."

Rembrandt's smile collapsed into a frown. "Addicted? To the Internet?"

Wade shrugs. "It does happen. I just never thought it would happen to the Professor."

"Well..." Rembrant said, "Keep in mind girl he may not have all the stubbornness to it ours would..."

The hotel room's door opened and Quinn walked through it. He flashed the room a smile, then stepped back to let Maggie walk in after him.

Maggie still wore bandages wrapped around her head. She was also cradling a stuffed teddy bear under her arm and held a Diet Coke in her hand. She gave Wade and Rembrandt a finger-wave with her free hand. "Hi, guys."

"Maggie!" Rembrandt jumped out of the couch and hugged her tightly, both of them laughing wildly.

Wade stayed on the couch, glaring up at her.

Quinn jogged past her to Arturo's room and banged on the door. "Hey, Max, get out here! Maggie's okay!"

Arturo's voice emerged from the room. "One moment, Mr. Mallory. Let me just finish this email..."

Rembrandt finally released Maggie and stepped away from her to look up and down. "How're you doing, Beckett?"

Maggie nodded and shot Quinn a nervous glance. "I'm, uh...good. But I need to tell you guys something..."

Arturo's door opened and he strode out, clutching a handful of papers. His face was stubbly with a day's unshaven growth, and his curly hair was wildly sticking out all over his head. He was still wearing his dress shirt and pants, but both were rumpled and he was unbuttoning the collar as he spoke.

"Ah, Mr. Mallory, I must speak with you about these articles I found on the Internet. I've been in a chatroom with the top five quantum physicists in the country for the last hour, and we'll be blasted if we can figure this one irregularity out. We could use your additional brainpower."

Arturo turned to Maggie and smiled. "Ah, Captain Beckett. How good of you to rejoin us. None the worse for your harrowing experience?"

Maggie clutched the teddy bear to her chest and shifted on her feet. "Well...actually...something has changed. I need to talk to you guys."

Rembrandt sat on the arm of the couch, next to Wade, who continued to glare at Maggie under a length of her hair. "What's wrong, Beckett? You came through it okay, right?"

"Yes," Maggie said. "But...there's something I discovered about me. You see...Quinn and I think that Rickman might have injected me with something a few years ago. Something that caused me to lose some memories and altered my personality. That's why I've been so clumsy and rude to all of you during our slide together. And why I was moving in on Quinn...and had the affair with Rickman."

Maggie looked down at each of the others, smiling. They all looked back at her - Quinn with a smile, Arturo and Rembrandt with confusion, and Wade with a deadpan. "But the knock on the head did something to me. Put me back to the way I was. I'm different now. Better. More human. And you're gonna see some changes from now on, I promise. Especially in the way I treat all of you."

Maggie finally let her gaze settle on Wade. "I'm sorry, Wade. I'm sorry for all the times I put you down for the crime of missing your Professor...and for feeling emotions like fear or loneliness. I was wrong, and you were right... and that's all gonna change. Okay?"

Wade's deadpan expression broke into a humorless smile. "So...let me get this straight. You got injected with something by Rickman that made you act like a self-righteous bimbo, and now that you got a bump on the head, everything's all right and I'm supposed to pretend the last seven months together never happened. Is that it?"

Maggie's smile twisted a little. "Well...I mean...I guess you could look at it that way, but you gotta understand, I wasn't myself..."

Wade's smile collapsed and she fell into a cold stare. "I don't care who you were. You hurt me. A lot. And I can't just wave my hand and make that all disappear. And I can't just accept the fact that you're suddenly supposed to be this wonderful person now. If you want my trust...and my forgiveness...you're gonna have to earn it."

Wade climbed out of the couch and shoved past Rembrandt to charge to her bedroom.

"Wade, wait!" Maggie began to move towards Wade, but she was too late to stop Wade from disappearing inside the room and slamming the door behind her.

Arturo took Maggie's arm and gently pulled her back. "Captain Beckett...I strongly urge you to let Miss Welles be for the time being. In time, if you are sincere, she will see that you have changed and she will forgive you. But that time is not now."

Maggie shook off Arturo's hand and looked away. "Right. Well...she'll see. You'll all see. I'm a better person now. My old self. And I'll prove it."

Arturo frowned at Maggie's bandages. "And you're sure you've recovered fully?"

Maggie waved him off. "Oh, sure. Doctor gave me a clean bill of health."

Quinn snapped his fingers. "Doctor...bill...that reminds me, we still have to pay off Maggie's hospital visit."

Rembrandt picked his backpack up off the floor and began rummaging through it. "Oh, yeah, no problem. Got my paycheck right in...hey..."

Rembrandt pulled out a small computer disk from the pocket. He turned it over in his hands. "How'd this get in there?"

Quinn, Maggie, and Arturo gathered around him as he looked at the disk. Arturo took it from him and studied it.

"You have no idea where it came from?" Arturo asked.

"Nope. I just..."

The lights in the hotel room flickered and died. The room was plunged into darkness, except for the pale white glow from the moon outside the windows.

As the others looked around themselves, Wade emerged from the bedroom and stumbled on a table. "Ouch. What's going on?"

Maggie folded her arms. "Must be a blackout."

Arturo clutched the papers in his hand. "Good heavens. I was working on an important email. I hope the computer saved it before it was lost."

"Don't worry about it, Arturo. With computers as common as they are in this world, they're bound to have backup generators all over the place. The power should kick back in..."

The computer monitor on the table glowed softly. It filled with a video image of a man's head silhouetted against flickering static in the background.

The voice that emerged from the monitor was the deep rich timbre of artificial enhancement. "The backup generators are under my control. So is everything in this hotel and your room. And this city. And you."

The Sliders gathered around the monitor to glare at the shimmering image.

Arturo narrowed his eyes. "Who are you? What do you want."

"I'm known as Masquerade," the man said. "And what I want is the disk in Rembrandt Brown's left hand."

Rembrandt looked at the disk in his hand. "Why? How'd I get it in the first place?"

"That's none of your business. You'll insert the disk into the mailslot on the wall on the left-hand side of the front door. You have five seconds."

Rembrandt looked at the slot, then at the disk in his hand, then at Quinn. The two men exchanged a look, then a slight nod. They looked at Wade and Maggie and Arturo, who all gave the same nod.

Rembrandt faced the computer camera and held up the disk between two fingers. "No deal, Masquerade. Not until you tell us what's up."

A moment passed, then Masquerade spoke again. "Idiots. You don't understand what you're dealing with, do you? I guess I'll have to show you. I have access to every computer in the world, including the ones in this hotel. For instance, I control the power and can cut off the supply to everything in this hotel except the outlet this computer is plugged into. And I can turn on the power... to the door locks."

The hotel room's door clicked sharply. Quinn and Maggie ran over to it. Quinn tried the knob, then flashed the others a grave look.

"It's locked," he said, then rammed into it with his shoulder. The door shook, but remained firm.

Maggie grabbed his shoulder and pulled him out of the way. "Move it, Mallory. Let a pro handle this."

She took a step back, then lashed out with a foot in a karate kick. Her heel slammed into the door. She spun and gave the door another kick, crying out at the same time. The door shuddered.

Masquerade continued to glare at them from his static prison. "I can take over the climate control..."

Air exploded out of the vents in the room. Arturo was in front of one of them and lurched out of the way, clutching his arm where the blast hit it. "It's freezing cold!"

Wade hugged herself and began to shiver as the vents roared around her. Behind her, Maggie took a step back and kicked the door again, snarling as she did so.

"I'm now lowering the temperature in the room to forty degrees below zero," Masquerade rumbled. "You'll all freeze to death. All I need to turn off the air and open the doors is that disk."

Arturo rubbed his arm briskly, breathing hard and forming clouds of icy smoke from his mouth. "Perhaps we should consider giving this man the disk."

Quinn tucked his hands into his armpits. "No way. If this psycho wants it that bad, it can't be good. You hear me, Masquerade? No deal!"

Maggie spun on one heel and drove her other foot into the door again. The door gave off a loud crackling snap. "That's right, Masquerade. No surrender."

Masquerade's image flickered on the screen. "Well, I suppose I'll just have to up the stakes a little."

The complimentary coffeemaker on the desk lit up as the heating coils began to glow. Then the pot sizzled. And grew runny as it melted. Sparks flashed all over it, then flames erupted from inside.

Rembrandt ran over to it, then lunged back as the flames swelled. Black smoke poured from the coffeemaker, which licked the wall near it with tongues of fire. Then the fire began to crawl up the wall itself. Rembrandt ripped the tablecloth off the dining table and tried to beat the flames, but they only grew worse.

Masquerade chuckled. "Fire and ice, all at once. Choose your death...or give me the disk."

Maggie took several steps back, crossing to the other side of the room. She glared at the door, then began to run towards it, screaming at the top of her lungs. Halfway across, she leapt into the air. Her foot lashed out and she formed an arrow, aimed right at the door.

The door was torn out of its hinges on impact. It collapsed into the hallway outside the room. Maggie landed on her feet, staggered, then yelled, "Come on."

The Sliders dashed out of the hotel room, even as flames engulfed the walls.

>From the computer screen, Masquerade loomed forward. His unnaturally deep voice roared. "You can't escape me! I'm everywhere! I'll get that disk, even if I have to kill you all!"

* * *

The corridor was in darkness, the lights still off from Masquerade's control. People were banging and yelling in the other hotel rooms Quinn, Maggie, Wade, Rembrandt, and Arturo passed. Apparently, Masquerade had locked them inside, too.

Arturo ran to the elevators, but Wade grabbed his arm and pulled him away. "No, Max, the elevators are bound to be under that weirdo's control. We better just use the stairs."

"Good idea, Wade." Maggie ran to the emergency stairs and yanked open the door. She waited until the others ran through, then followed.

* * *

The stairwell echoed with their frenzied footsteps as they hurried down floor after floor. Other people began to join them in a mad dash to safety. As they reached the last flight of steps, sirens began to wail, growing louder with each passing moment.

* * *

Outside, Quinn burst from the doors, followed closely by Maggie, Wade, Arturo, and Rembrandt. They ran out onto the sidewalk, followed by the crowds of fleeing hotel patrons.

Firetrucks squealed up to the hotel. Firepersons scrambled off the trucks. Some of them rushed into the hotel. Others began hooking up hoses to the hydrant on the corner.

A firewoman was hunched over a keypad on the hydrant, punching buttons on it frantically. "Hey, the hydrant won't turn on the water. Says there's a computer malfunction."

One of the firetrucks revved its engine. Then it lurched forward. It rumbled towards the hotel, building up speed. It was headed for Wade. She screamed and dove out of the way. The truck kept going to crash into the Dominion.

The crippled truck's siren began to blare out of control and flash its lights. The driver climbed out from behind the wheel and ran over to where Wade was lying.

"Are you okay?" the driver asked. "I'm sorry, ma'am, I don't know what went wrong. The truck's computers kicked into autopilot. Must have been a malfunction."

Quinn took Wade's hand and helped her to her feet as he glared at the fireman. "Uh, yeah, malfunction. Let's go, guys."

Wade limped, supporting herself on Quinn's arm, as they headed away from the Dominion. Behind them, the hotel burned, flames pouring from the windows as the fire raged out of control.

* * *

Rembrandt walked alongside the others down the lonely sidewalk. The night felt dead with no streetlights. Only the moon above them lit their journey.

Rembrandt's eyes, like those of his friends, were constantly in motion, watching everything around him. "I don't get it, man. Who was that Masquerade guy, anyway?"

Wade looked up at the windows of an apartment building they passed. "A hacker. Someone who knows how to break into secure computer systems."

Rembrandt turned and looked behind them quickly. "How'd he do all that stuff to us?"

Arturo rubbed his left arm and flexed the fingers, cautiously. "In a world like this, where computers are everywhere and control everything, I would imagine that a hacker would wield considerable power."

Maggie shook her head and made a cutting motion with her hand. "This is not good. We should have established a secure stronghold with weapons to defend ourselves for exactly this contingency."

Wade stared at her. "Weapons? You want us to keep weapons in our hotel room? I knew it. You haven't changed a bit. You still think of this slide as some sort of military operation."

"So what? I told you I got my military training back. If anything, it's even clearer to me now that this operation needs organization and discipline." She punctuated the last words with chops of her hand in the air. "And I don't see what's wrong with that."

Wade rolled her eyes. "The more things change..."

Arturo folded his hands behind his back and glared at the sidewalk beneath his feet. "I think at this point, our priority should be to get off the street and find out what is so important about this disk that this fellow Masquerade is willing to kill for it."

Wade folded her arms and looked at the others. "Great. Where we gonna go to do that?"

Rembrandt snapped his fingers and pointed at her. "I got an idea."

* * *

Rembrandt pushed the button labeled "Pamela Walker." After a moment, a thin voice emerged from the speaker. "Hello?"

Rembrandt glanced at the others standing outside the apartment building, then spoke into the microphone. "It's me, Rembrandt Brown. I...I delivered a pizza to you this morning."

A few seconds passed, then the voice came again. Quieter. "Yes. I remember. So?"

"Well, look...this is kinda awkward, but...me and my friends... we need help."

Pamela's voice was scratchy through the battered speaker. "What help?"

"A place to stay. Access to a computer..."

"No." Pamela's voice grew louder. "No, go away. Leave me alone."

Rembrandt looked back at the others. Wade closed her eyes and turned away to face the street. Arturo shook his head. Maggie folded her arms and glared up at him.

Rembrandt seemed to deflate as he turned back to the speaker. "Look...I know this must be strange to you, but we've really got no place else to go. I got this disk somehow and there's this guy after us named Masquerade or something..."

Pamela's voice burst out of the speaker. "Did you say Masquerade?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I did."

Silence passed. Then the door buzzed. Rembrandt pushed it open and looked back at the others.

"This should be interesting," Arturo murmured as he followed Rembrandt into the building.

* * *

The door to Pamela's apartment opened a crack. Her small eye peered out at Rembrandt, then looked past him to Quinn, Wade, Maggie, and Arturo.

"Friends?" Pamela asked.

Rembrandt nodded and gestured towards the others. "Yeah, they're in trouble, just like me."

"With Masquerade."

"Yeah."

Pamela looked at each of them in turn. Quinn and the others put on broad, non-threatening smiles. After a few tense seconds, the door closed. Soft clicks followed of the locks being disengaged.

Pamela pulled the door open wide. She was still wearing the oversized T-shirt and worn jeans. Her bare feet shuffled on the carpet, her toes digging into the fibers like fingers curling into fists. She looked up at Rembrandt with her wide brown eyes.

They walked into the apartment, one by one. Wade looked around the apartment, then down at Pamela, watching her close the door behind them.

"You live here?" Wade asked. "All by yourself?"

Pamela turned the locks, facing away from her, as she nodded.

"Wow." Wade looked at Quinn, who shrugged slightly. "That's awful."

Pamela glared at Wade. "Didn't ask for pity. You ran into a hacker named Masquerade?"

Maggie folded her arms. "That's right. I assume you've heard of him."

Pamela strode past them all to go down the hallway leading to her bedroom. "Everybody's heard of him. Don't you watch the news?"

The Sliders followed her into the darkened bedroom, glowing with the light of her computers. Three of them were lit up this time, two of them displaying Flying Toasters screensavers.

Arturo's eyes lit up. "I say, I don't suppose I could check my email. I'm expecting a very important..."

Wade slapped his stomach with the back of her hand and glared up at him. "Max...not now."

Arturo cleared his throat and tried to look more stern. "Uh, yes. Of course. Some other time."

Pamela crawled onto her bed and dropped into a cross-legged seat in front of one of her computers. She moved the mouse to halt the screensaver and brought up her web browser.

Typing as she spoke, Pamela brought up a new webpage. "Masquerade is the most powerful computer hacker in the world. Nobody knows who he is or where he came from, but he's on the FBI.Com's Ten Most Wanted List. As number one."

The webpage came up as a stark green page with plain lettering that read "The Masquerade Home Page." There was an image of the silhouette they had all seen in their hotel room on the page, as well as a flurry of text. There was also an ad banner at the top of the page for Hanes Underwear.

Pamela looked over her shoulder at the others. "Masquerade has backdoor entry into virtually every major computer database in the world, giving him control over everything. He's also a terrorist. This is his website."

Wade leaned closer to read the text aloud. "'I am Masquerade. I hide behind the mask of technology to show you all the folly of your ways. This world must end. Purity must prevail. I will bring down the Internet and build a stronger society...' He's a Luddite?"

Pamela nodded. "He believes the Internet is evil and is trying to destroy it from within."

"Using the Internet." Maggie rolled her eyes. "We got ourselves a real live one here."

Pamela faced her computer again and brought up a large screen of plain green text. She began to type a long string of characters. "I took a special interest in Masquerade. He uses a password decryption program to hack into his targets. I think it's a program I created that he modified. I've been studying his tactics to develop a program he couldn't crack."

Pamela sighed. "Problem is that Masquerade always kept a low profile and I had trouble finding him. Some of his hacks didn't even show up until weeks later when the trail was cold. And some of his will probably never show up."

Pamela finished typing, then leaned away from the computer. "But you say Masquerade is after you. And there must be a reason why if Masquerade is willing to show himself to get you. Which means I can get to him through you. This might be the break I'm looking for."

Pamela turned herself around on the bed to face Rembrandt. "You mentioned a disk?"

Rembrandt nodded and fished around in his jacket pocket until he produced the disk. Pamela took it from his outstretched hand and slipped it into one of her computers.

The screen switched from Flying Toasters to a long flowing stream of text. Then a window came up that said "Encryption Detected. Standby..."

Pamela muttered to herself. "Figures. The contents of the disk are encrypted...wait...Rembrandt, where'd you get this?"

"I dunno," Rembrandt said. "I think somebody must've slipped it in my bag while I was on my route. Why?"

Pamela pushed some buttons. A large symbol of an eagle with its wings spread and a computer clutched in its talons began to flash on the screen. She pointed at it. "This is a U.S. government encryption key from the National Security Agency. Level Ultra. Whatever is on this disk belongs to the government."

Pamela climbed off the bed and stretched. "I'll have this decrypted in a few minutes. When we know what Masquerade is after, we can plan our next move. Now I need to know exactly what happened to you."

Rembrandt nodded. "Sure, we'll fill you in."

Wade moved closer to the computers. "Uh, could I stay here and take a look at your setup? I'm a hacker myself, and I have a feeling I could learn a few things."

"Sure. The computer on the left." Pamela walked out of the bedroom into the living room.

Rembrandt, Maggie, and Arturo followed her out. Quinn hung back, watching Wade drag a chair over to the unoccupied computer and begin typing.

Quinn glanced over at the others, then walked over to Wade, his hands in his pockets. "Can I talk to you for a second?"

Wade studied the monitor as she said, "Sure. What's up?"

Quinn leaned against the bed next to the computers. "I just wanted to know what you thought of the new Maggie."

Wade's fingers hovered over the keyboard, then began to type. "She's a little calmer. Not as rude. But she still has an attitude problem."

"Yeah, she does. But maybe now she'll get over it."

"Maybe." Wade typed a little more.

Quinn looked down at the floor as he said, "Wade...me and Maggie had a little talk, too. Not just here, but a couple worlds back when we got separated. We decided...it's over between us."

Wade slowed in her typing. "Really."

"Yeah. We both agreed that it wouldn't work out. It was wrong from the beginning, and Maggie thinks it was just her other personality at work anyway. So we're just friends now, the way it should be."

Wade nodded, keeping her eyes fixed on the computer in front of her. "That's good. I think you two wouldn't have made a good couple, anyway."

Quinn looked up at her, studying the back of her head. "Yeah. And I was just wondering...where that leaves us."

Wade stopped typing. She was frozen, tense, staring at nothing on the screen. Then she turned slowly in her chair to stare at Quinn. Her eyes were wide, but soft. She rested a hand on the back of her chair as she looked deeply into Quinn's eyes. Then she spoke.

"Quinn...I think we..."

The computer next to her chimed and began to flash and speak aloud the message "File decryption complete. Now displaying contents."

The bedroom door flew open and Pamela charged in, followed by Maggie, Arturo, and Rembrandt.

Pamela crawled onto the bed and typed on the computer. "Let's see what we've got."

Wade quickly got to her feet and moved away from Quinn. Quinn himself looked down at the floor again and hunched his shoulders.

Maggie and Arturo watched Pamela work. Only Rembrandt looked at Wade, then at Quinn. And Rembrandt narrowed his eyes, setting his lips tightly as he studied the two of them.

Pamela's work brought up a window that filled with text and graphics. Her eyes were constantly in motion, studying it. They widened.

"No," she said. "This can't be right."

Maggie leaned closer to examine the screen. "What is it?"

"A...computer virus."

Wade folded her arms. "So?"

"Computer viruses are illegal. A misdemeanor to even allow one on your computer system. A felony to make one, punishable by life in prison or death."

Maggie blinked. "Death? Isn't that a little extreme?"

Wade looked at her. "Not really. Remember where we are. With the Internet as widespread as it is here, a simple virus could take down the whole thing. It would be really dangerous."

Pamela nodded. "But this isn't an ordinary virus. Looks like it was made by the government. I'm guessing it was part of some research program into anti- virus tactics. Someone must have stolen a copy from a government lab. Masquerade must have been behind that. No one else could do it."

"So what's so special about it?"

Pamela pointed to the screen, where a graphic of a mailbox opening and closing showed. "This virus can be spread by email."

Wade's jaw dropped a little. "You don't mean...you mean it can be attached to email, right?"

"No, I mean it can be turned into an email message itself. And all it takes to activate it is for someone to read it with a standard email program."

"I don't believe it." Wade turned away, rubbing her face with a hand, as if exhausted.

Maggie spread her hands. "Excuse me, could someone explain to us technological Neanderthals what the big deal is?"

Wade shook her head, then said, "Okay, the big deal is that normally computer viruses can only be spread by attaching them to computer programs. Something that needs to be started by the user, like a game or something. But with email... they could send a copy of this virus to every email address in the world...every person in the world...instantaneously."

Pamela nodded. "And they wouldn't have to do anything but read their messages. This could infect every computer in the world in a few hours. That's why Masquerade wanted it."

Wade began to pace the room. "This virus could shut down hospitals, power plants, traffic lights, everything. The whole world could grind to a halt."

Rembrandt looked at the others. "So what'll we do now?"

Quinn straightened and said, "I think we should..."

Maggie interrupted, chopping the air with a hand. "We should contact the proper authorities. If this virus-thing was stolen from a government lab, then they're probably looking for it. They can take over and Masquerade will be out of our hair."

Pamela nodded and moved to her computer to bring up her web browser and access 911.Com. "Good idea."

Maggie looked over at Quinn, who was glaring at her. "What?"

There was a beep. Pamela's fingers flew on the keyboard, then she said, "It's an email from the FBI's Computer Crime Division. They got my message, and they're sending a car down to pick up the disk and take us to headquarters for debriefing."

Wade raised her eyebrows and looked up at Quinn. "Wow, the feds work fast in this world."

The chirping wail of a siren rang out. Quinn went to the window and drew back the thick curtains to look outside.

A dusty brown sedan was pulling up to the curb in front of the building. A bubblelight flashed blue and red on the top of the car.

Quinn looked at the others. "They're here."

Pamela popped the disk out of the computer and held it out. "Here's the disk. Take it. I can't go outside."

Arturo took the disk from her and headed out of the bedroom. "Excellent. The sooner we get this done, the sooner I can get back to my email."

Wade jogged out of the room after him. "Hey, don't you remember, Max? Your computer burned up in the fire."

Arturo's voice bellowed out from the living room. "Oh, blast! You're right. We'll have to return to Lamplighter.Com after this..."

Quinn walked out of the bedroom, followed by Maggie, who was walking after him with a puzzled frown. She shook her head, then said, "Hey, Quinn, something's bugging me..."

Rembrandt waited until they were out of the room, then looked at Pamela. She was sitting cross-legged on the bed, staring up at him with her large brown eyes.

"You sure you don't wanna come with us?" Rembrandt asked.

Pamela nodded.

Rembrandt looked back at the others, then down at Pamela again. "You know...you don't have to live like this. I know the world is scary sometimes, but this ain't the way to get past that. Everybody needs people. Real people, not ones on a screen."

Pamela lowered her eyes. "I know."

Rembrandt sighed, then said, "Well...look...I gotta go straighten this out. But thanks for all the help. And if you don't mind, I wanna come back and talk to you some more. I'm only here for a few more days, but I have a feelin' you could use a friend."

Pamela tugged idly at one of her toes. "Okay."

Rembrandt nodded, then slowly walked out of the room. Pamela was left alone, surrounded by her computers.

Then one of the computers began to flash an icon shaped like an envelop. A cheerful voice said, "You've got mail."

* * *

Arturo walked briskly out of the apartment building towards the police car idling on the curb. Wade hurried down the steps after him, watching the car closely.

"Hey, slow down, Max," Wade said. "We should wait for the others to catch up."

Arturo charged towards the door of the car. "Miss Welles, I for one am quite eager to have this business resolved as quickly as possible."

"So am I, but we gotta stick together."

"I am well-aware of that, Miss Welles." The car door swung open, and Arturo climbed into the backseat. "But we are hardly running a marathon..."

Wade froze as she looked behind the wheel of the car. There was no one there. "Hey...what's going on..."

Quinn and Maggie came running out of the apartment building, yelling and waving their arms.

"Get away!" Maggie screamed. "It's a trick!"

Arturo looked out the open door at her. "What?"

The door slammed shut. The tires squealed, pouring smoke, as the police car shot away from the curb. It roared off down the street. Through the back window, Arturo could be seen yelling and pounding the glass with his fists. Then the car screeched around the corner and was gone.

Quinn and Maggie ran up to stand alongside Wade, both gasping for breath. Wade was coughing and waving a hand in the air against the smoke that drifted over her.

Quinn looked down the street, then grunted with frustration. "We lost him."

Wade looked up at him. "What's going on? What happened?"

"We just got an email from the FBI," Quinn said. "The _real_ FBI. They told us to stay inside and not go out...because Masquerade had stolen one of the Bureau's remote vehicles."

Wade stared up at him, then looked around the corner where smoke drifted from the burned strips of pavement on the road. "Then that means...Masquerade has the Professor."

Maggie nodded as she shielded her eyes against the sun with a hand. "Yeah. And the virus."

* * *

Arturo pounded on the back window a few more times with his fist, screaming "Get me out of here! What is the meaning of this?"

Then he turned around to face forward. He stared at the steering wheel of the car, rolling from side to side all by itself to keep the car on course. He was shielded from it by a metal grating over the back of the front seat. Sliding his fingers into the mesh, Arturo gave it an experimental tug. It held firm.

Arturo looked around the interior of the car. "What is this..."

A screen unfolded from the dashboard of the car above the steering wheel. It lit up with a face silhouetted against snowy-white static.

"Hello, Maximillian Arturo," the face said.

Arturo glared at it. "Hello, Masquerade. And what is the purpose of this little kidnapping you've staged?"

"That disk in your hand."

Arturo looked down at the computer disk. "Ah, yes. Your precious virus. And I suppose you expect me to hand it over to you just like that, eh?"

"You will give it to me," Masquerade said. "I'm the puppetmaster that controls the strings of the world."

Arturo's face darkened as he set it in a firm scowl. "No, you are not. You cannot control me, you blistering idiot. I'm flesh and blood. I'm not a computer. You may be able to take over this car, but you cannot force me to act against my will."

Arturo wiggled the disk in the air. "For example. You want this virus. And it is simplicity itself for me to deny you possession of it by dropping it on the floor..."

Arturo dropped the disk on the floor and raised his shoe. "And crushing it..."

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Arturo let his foot linger in the air. "And how do you propose to stop me?"

Masquerade sighed, then said, "Well, let's see. You're in the back of a speeding car going sixty miles an hour... in fact, let's make it...oh, a hundred..."

Arturo was thrown back as the car picked up speed. His eyes rolled wildly as the city rushed by the windows.

"Now," Masquerade said, "what if I told you that if you crush that disk, I'll aim that car at a brick wall?"

The car skidded around a corner and headed down a blind alley. A brick wall hurtled towards the front windshield.

Masquerade continued in his calm, deep voice. "A brick wall that will collapse on impact into the apartment of a young single mother of three. Named...Laura Hague, according to my records. With her sons Jason and Marcus, and her daughter Stephanie. The daughter is three months old."

The car screamed towards the wall, every bump in the road sending the vehicle bouncing wildly. Arturo gripped the wire mesh in front of him, his eyes wide.

"All right," he gasped, then yelled, "All right! I won't crush the disk!"

The car's brakes engaged. Arturo was thrown forward into the mesh, crushing his face against it. The entire alley rang with the squeals of the tires on the road. Smoke poured from underneath them. The car tipped forward. It skidded to a piercing halt and came to rest inches away from the wall.

Arturo pried himself off the mesh divider and stared at the glowing screen.

Masquerade's silhouette nodded. "Very good. Now pick it up."

Arturo looked down at the disk under his heel.

The car's engine revved as Masquerade spoke again in his inhumanly deep voice. "I said, pick it up."

Arturo reached down with a trembling hand and picked up the disk. He held it up in full view of the monitor. "There. See? I've done it. The disk is intact."

"Very good, Arturo."

The car lurched as it slowly backed out of the alley. When it was in the street, its wheels turned and the car rolled off again on its journey.

Arturo glared at the flickering monitor as it said, "You see, little puppet? I control the Internet. That's why I control the world...and everyone in it."

The car roared off down the lonely streets of San Francisco as it was filled with the deep booming laughter of Masquerade.

* * *

Smoke was pouring up from a trashcan on the sidewalk that belched flames into the air. Around it, a family huddled, wrapped in blankets. A grubby young man was spooning a thin soup into bowls that he passed down to his children. The young mother was trying to calm a baby nestled in dirty rags in her arms that wouldn't stop crying.

The sedan rolled slowly along the battered concrete of a desolate street. All around it, houses and shops stood crumbled. A sign marked Fresh Seafood hung over the shop's doorway, bent and pocked with bulletholes. A man in rags was huddled there in the door, shivering slightly.

Arturo leaned close to the window, watching a woman in tattered clothes shuffling along the sidewalk. "Where are we?"

Masquerade flickered on the screen, his somber voice resonating through the interior of the car. "The underpass of the information superhighway. These people are the houses that got bulldozed to pave the way for the so- called technological revolution."

The car rolled past two men yelling and wrestling with each other. Clutched between them, being yanked back and forth, was a dented can of tomato soup.

"They're those without computers," Masquerade sighed. "Some were too old to learn the new ways, others lacked the technical skill, others just didn't catch up fast enough. But most of them are people from homes where food was what they needed most, not computers. Schools where they couldn't afford glass for the windows, much less T3 connections. So as the Internet took over, they were forced out. And they live here in these ghettos, cut off from the information, the entertainment, and the jobs that the techno-fascist elite take for granted."

Arturo's frown deepened as he watched the slums roll by. "Quite disturbing."

"That's one way of putting it."

The sedan pulled off the road to the curb of a crumbling apartment building. The building was flanked on both sides by rubble-filled lots. The engine switched off and the door of the car swung open on its own. Arturo looked up at the building, where sheets of plastic ruffled over the shattered windows.

"I take it this is our destination," Arturo murmured.

Masquerade's image flickered. "Yes. Get out and walk in through the front door. And don't try anything, otherwise I'll have to give you another show of my power."

"I believe I've learned my lesson. For now." Arturo climbed out of the sedan. The car door slammed shut behind him. He looked down at it, then headed up to the front door of the building.

* * *

The apartment building was gutted from years of fires and neglect. The floor of the upper levels were mostly torn or burned away. Sunlight shone down in beams through holes that could be seen through all the way from the roof down to the ground floor. The ground floor was the only one left intact. And it was occupied.

As Arturo pulled open the door, sunlight fell into the room onto piles of machinery. Metal boxes were scattered everywhere, interconnected by a spiderweb of wires and cables. The web's center was a large, battered armchair. Its back was turned to Arturo and the front door. The chair faced a semi-circle of monitors that showed a dizzying variety of images. On one, a 3-D model of the world revolved. On another, images of various cities labeled "Paris" and "Chicago" cycled, one after the other. On yet another, nothing but endless rows of text swept past.

Arturo faced the ragged back of the armchair with a frown. He gripped the disk in his hand tighter as a soft voice emerged from the chair.

It said, "Glad you could join me, Mr. Arturo. Gimme a second, I'll make us more comfortable."

There was a click, followed by a beep. Behind Arturo, a metal door slammed into place over the wooden one he had walked through. Beside him, metal gratings rattled down over the windows, then locked into place.

Hums over his head drew Arturo's attention upwards. And he saw machine guns being aimed away from him and towards the ceiling.

"Can't be too careful with security," the person in the armchair said. "I'm the most wanted human being on the planet, you know."

Arturo took a few steps forward. "Masquerade? Is that you?"

"Yes. It's me." The armchair swiveled on its base, turning to face Arturo.

A young boy looked up at Arturo, overwhelmed by the size of the chair he was in. His feet, clad in small but expensive shoes, didn't even touch the floor. In an Italian suit tailored to his size, the boy looked older than the seven-year-old Arturo guessed him to be. And his eyes held a weariness that normally took decades to acquire.

"I'm Masquerade," the boy said.

Arturo's frown deepened. "A child?"

The boy smiled and leaned back in his chair. "Don't be fooled by appearances, Mr. Arturo. I'm a product of my environment. I was born in the Age of the Internet. Computers were my parents, instead of my real ones who were too busy with their own lives to care about me. I'm not even sure they noticed when I ran away from home to this place."

Masquerade surveyed the hollow interior of the building. His voice echoed slightly off the walls. "I learned to type before I learned to talk. I was browsing the Web before I learned to walk. There was a time when it would have taken a decade for someone to master the art of computer hacking. But with my mind and the resources of the Net, I was hacking into the White House on my third birthday. And once I had that control, I didn't need parents. With a few hacks into a clothing supply store, I got this suit. A few more, I got all this equipment. Computers are my life."

Arturo clasped his hands behind his back and began to walk around the young boy, slowly. "And so you've decided to destroy them?"

Masquerade followed him with his piercing blue eyes. "I've decided to destroy the impersonal society that computers have created. A society where people don't relate to each other except through a phone line. Not even with their own kids."

"But you've chosen the medium of computers to bring that about. Somewhat ironic." Arturo glared at one of the monitors showing a wireframe model of the White House.

The boy's smile widened. "Isn't it? I'm a living example of what technology can do. With every hack, I show how weak the infrastructure really is. How much control we've given up to these soulless machines. I'm going to make them sorry they ever heard of a modem. And hurt them so badly that they'll tear down the Internet, and no one will ever touch a keyboard again."

Arturo stopped with a sigh. He settled his gaze onto Masquerade. "My boy, I wish I could say you have good intentions, but even that escapes you. I agree that this world seems to have lost sight of its humanity, but I have also seen first-hand the power of the Internet. The resources it can hold for people like me...and you. When used wisely. And listening to you, I see that you do not care about people or humanity. You only care about yourself and your narrow world-view."

Masquerade smiled up at him dryly. "Whatever. I'll take that disk now."

Arturo looked at the disk in his hand. "And of course, you can make me give it to you."

Masquerade leaned over the arm of his chair and punched keys on one of his keyboards. The machine guns mounted on the beams of the roof whined as they snapped down to aim at Arturo.

Arturo stared at the guns glinting down at him. And swallowed. "That's what I thought."

* * *

Maggie paced the floor of Pamela's bedroom, her arms folded across her chest. As she walked, Maggie shook her head and muttered, "I dunno about this. We should be doing something, not just sitting around."

Pamela was sitting hunched over the keyboard of one of her computers. Wade was peering over her shoulder, but looked up to glare at Maggie.

"We are doing something," Wade said. "We're fighting fire with fire. Masquerade got us with computers. It's time we used computers to fight back."

Pamela stopped typing and pointed at her computer screen. "Okay, I think I got it."

Rembrandt leaned over her other shoulder. "Got what?"

"Managed to access the logs of the FBI. Tracked down Masquerade's hack into the system to steal the car. He ran the signal through Germany, Hong Kong, and Paris. And he used an encryption routine to hide his tracks. But I managed to identify the fake ID he used. It's..."

Wade pointed at the screen. "No, wait...look at the time log. If Masquerade was using all those reflectors, there would have been a greater lag. But these response times are too fast. This one must be a smokescreen. Let me see the list of users again."

Pamela glanced up at Wade. Then she turned back to her computer and clicked the mouse pointer through a series of menu. Text scrolled past.

Wade pointed to one. "There. Max Jerod. Check that."

Pamela typed. Then nodded. "That's it. That's Masquerade."

Rembrandt clapped Wade on the shoulder. "Hey, good thinkin', sweetheart."

Wade smiled at him, then nodded at the computer. "Okay, what've you got, Pam?"

"The set of instructions Masquerade sent to the car by remote. And the address the car was driven to." Pamela punched a key.

A computer graphic filled the monitor with an image of the FBI sedan. It overlapped an image of San Francisco, along with a red line that traced itself through the streets. It finally stopped on one location that blinked as a red box. The box swelled into a three-dimensional cube that rotated on the screen.

"Was an old apartment building," Pamela said. "Records show it was condemned and demolished two years ago."

Wade folded her arms and glared at the screen. "But I'll bet it wasn't. Another one of Masquerade's little tricks. Can you check the U.S. postal service and delivery companies and see if they made any deliveries to this place?"

Pamela nodded and typed quickly. After a moment, the box "Restricted Access" flashed on the screen. Pamela typed some more and the box was replaced by the words "Access Granted." Then text scrolled by, along with the logo of the U.S. Post Office.

"Good thinking," Pamela murmured. "There have been four hundred deliveries to this location in the last two years...the first a month after the building was supposed to have been demolished."

Pamela nodded as her eyes roamed the screen. "Most of these orders are computer hardware and software. This is definitely Masquerade's work. He's been building a supercomputer."

"How'd he pay for it all?" Rembrandt asked.

Wade shook her head. "He's a hacker, Remmy. He didn't have to pay for it. Probably forged credit accounts and stole everything he wanted."

Pamela highlighted some entries on the list with her mouse's pointer. "But...some of these don't make sense. Infrared sensors, semiautomatic weapons, liquid nitrogen, sheets of titanium, sirens..."

Maggie sat down on the bed behind Pamela to look at the computer's screens. "It makes sense. If you're building a security system to protect that fancy supercomputer. And yourself. This is serious hardware. If I'm reading this right, he must have that place set up to make Fort Knox look like a piggy bank."

"Guess he didn't wanna take any chances," Rembrandt said.

Quinn looked from Wade to Maggie and back again. "So what's it mean?"

Rembrandt sighed as he said, "It means we ain't getting the professor or that virus back so easy."

"Can't we just call the police and let them handle it?"

Wade dropped onto the bed, causing it to bounce slightly. "We've seen how Masquerade handles the fire department, the police, and the FBI. He must have every government agency in the country wrapped around his little finger with those computers of his."

Maggie crossed her arms over her lap. "Not to mention the fact that right now we have the advantage of surprise. If we tell anyone we know where Masquerade is, and he finds out about it...there's no telling what he could do."

Quinn ran his fingers through his unkempt brown hair. "So it's up to us."

"Exactly." Maggie sprang off the bed onto her feet and began to pace again. "Okay, we need to figure out the goals of our mission."

"We have to save the professor," Wade said.

Maggie looked down at her as she walked past. "That's right. But we also have to accept the fact that Arturo...might be dead by now."

Wade followed Maggie with her eyes. "You can accept that, but I can't."

"I know." Maggie looked away from Wade to glare at the computers by Pamela's bed. "That maniac also has the virus. This whole world is at stake. He might already have deployed it by now."

Pamela crossed her legs under herself as she shook her head. "No. I don't think so. I decrypted the virus so quickly because I wrote the government software that encrypted it in the first place. Even with the most advanced equipment like he has, I'd say it would take Masquerade at least two hours."

Rembrandt leaned against the back of a chair. "Two hours. It's been a half-hour already. We ain't got much time."

Maggie stopped pacing. "You're right, Brown. We'll need to work fast. Okay, we'll need some equipment. Pamela, see if you can find us a hardware store or something nearby on that thing, will you? Brown, take this down. We'll need about thirty feet of rope, some copper wiring and alligator clips..."

Quinn raised his hands as he approached her. "Hey, hey, hey, wait a minute. Since when are you giving the orders around here?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Mallory." Maggie tilted her head to one side as she turned to look at him. "I forgot you're the boss in this outfit. What's the matter? I step on your toes?"

"Nobody's the boss here. We're a team. And you didn't 'step on my toes.' I just don't think you should be bossing us around like you're in charge."

Maggie chopped the air with her hand. "Look, we don't have time for this, okay? I was an intelligence officer. It was my job to infiltrate high-security installations like what Masquerade has set up. And if I miss my guess, he has some pretty lethal systems in that place, not something an amateur should fool around with. So if anybody's gonna go in there and rescue the Professor and get that virus, it'll have to be me. Correct?"

Quinn glanced over his shoulder at Rembrandt and Wade standing behind him. They looked back at him with blank expressions. Quinn tightened his jaw as he looked back at Maggie, stared at her for a moment, then growled, "Yeah."

"And if it's my butt on the line out there, I need total cooperation to pull this off. So I call the shots. Correct?"

Quinn glanced at Pamela, who had him fixed in a blank stare. Then he said, "Yeah."

Maggie smiled. "Good. Then, as I was saying, I'll need thirty feet of rope, some copper wiring..."

* * *

Maggie rolled through the bare and desolate streets on Rembrandt's bicycle. She was a moving shadow dressed in black pants, shirt, and gloves, wearing a black ski mask pulled over her blond hair. Her riding was thrown slightly off-balance by the large and heavy knapsack slung over one shoulder.

She braked to a halt and glared at the battered apartment building ahead of her. A sedan was parked in front, the same sedan that had kidnapped Arturo.

Maggie reached up and brushed the edge of the ski mask away from her ear. Then she whispered into the cuff of her sleeve. "Okay, I'm at the address. I see the building. You were right, Wells, it wasn't demolished, after all."

A small earpiece lodged in Maggie's ear whispered back in Wade's voice, "I knew it."

* * *

Wade and Pamela were sitting side-by-side on the bed, each facing one of Pamela's computers. Both of them typed quickly as they watched jerky video clips on their monitors of Maggie's point of view. Standing behind them, Quinn and Rembrandt watched nervously.

Wade touched the headset around her ears that connected to a microphone in front of her mouth. "Okay, Beckett, you should be at the junction. It's got to be under the pavement around there somewhere."

* * *

Maggie nodded and slung the knapsack off her shoulder. "Got it."

She glanced around, then dug through the pack until she found a crowbar. Maggie climbed off the bike, braced her feet, and jammed the end of the crowbar into a crack in the sidewalk. Prying up a square of concrete exposed a network of wiring and cables.

"Now what?" Maggie whispered.

Pamela's voice filled her ear. "A large grey cable with the serial number GHS-2345. That's what we want."

Maggie knelt by the open pavement as she drew out a length of wires from the knapsack. The wires ended in alligator clips that Maggie took in each hand. After studying the cables running through the hole in the concrete, she clipped the wires onto one of them.

Maggie stepped away from it. "Done."

* * *

Wade's screen blinked with the words "Interface Successful." Then text and colors flowed by. She smiled and began to type as she said, "We're in."

Pamela nodded. "I'm bypassing the first security system now. You're on the second."

"Gotcha."

Rembrandt watched them work. "What's goin' on?"

Wade smiled, but kept her eyes on the screen. "It's time we turned the tables on this guy. Maggie made a direct connection to the line Masquerade is using for his computer. He hacks other computers, now we're hacking his computer."

"First system down," Pamela snapped.

Wade nodded. "Second system down. Coming to the third security block. It's password-protected. Eighteen-digit code. I'm skipping it, gonna see if I can go around it. Must be an Easter egg in here somewhere."

"On the fourth system, encryption. Running a decrypter. Better get ready. There must be a warning system in here somewhere."

Wade typed furiously. "I hope not. But if Masquerade does show up, maybe the two of us together can beat him."

"Maybe," Pamela whispered.

Wade froze as her screen lit up with pleasant colors and text. "That's it. We're in."

Pamela nodded, still typing on her keyboard. "Pull up a schematic of the security system. I'll see if I can stop Masquerade from finishing the decryption."

"Come on," Quinn whispered.

Wade watched a three-dimensional wireframe model of the apartment building appear on her screen. Red dots blinked on key points on the building. Labels appeared on them marked "cameras" and "sensors." She blinked, then whispered, "Whoa."

* * *

Maggie watched the building from across the street, touching her earpiece with a finger. "Come on, guys, what've you got?"

Wade's voice crackled softly. "Well, we've got iron bars on all the windows, all the way up to the fourth floor. The walls have all been reinforced with sheets of solid titanium. The only door is reinforced with a second door made of three inches of steel. And the entire building is surrounded by a network of infrared and motion sensors. But that's not the best part. All over the building, Masquerade has machine guns set up to target and fire on any intruder they detect, inside or outside."

"Terrific." Maggie rested her hands on her hips as she glared at the apartment building. Her eyes drifted over to the building next to it, separated by an empty lot choked with weeds. She blinked. "Hey...what about the roof? Any defense there?"

After a moment, Wade said, "Well, according to this, there's nothing on the roof except a camera and a locked skylight. But the nearest buildings are too far away to reach it."

"Don't bet on that. That's how I'm getting in. Can you guys do something about the camera, guns, and motion sensors?"

"We'll try."

"Good. Go for it." Maggie picked up her knapsack and sprinted across the street to one of the buildings looming alongside Masquerade's.

* * *

Wade glanced over to her side. "How's it coming, Pam?"

Pamela frowned at a screen which showed a dizzying stream of letters and numbers pouring by. "Farther along the decryption than I expected. Managed to put a bug or two into his program to slow him down, but he'll be done in fifteen minutes."

"Then we have to work fast. This whole security system is run by his computers. We have to shut it down for Maggie without drawing Masquerade's attention. We'll have to work together, two against one."

Pamela hunched over her keyboard. "I'll handle the roof camera. You handle the motion sensors that would be triggered by your friend."

Wade smirked. "Oh, great. Give me the hard job."

* * *

The trapdoor on the roof swung open with a bang. Maggie climbed up through it, squinting against the blowing wind and afternoon sun. She looked across to Masquerade's building in the distance.

As she pulled herself up, Maggie asked, "How's it going?"

"We're working on the camera. Pam's going to set it on a continuous loop so Masquerade won't see you. Once I get the motion sensors down, it should be clear sailing for you."

Maggie hurried across the roof and slung her knapsack off her shoulder. She drew out of it a length of heavy rope that ended in grappling hooks. Standing at the roof's edge, Maggie swung the hook through the air in a wide circle, then let it go. The hook whistled across the vast divide between the two buildings, then landed onto the opposite roof. Maggie pulled on the rope until the hook dug itself in.

Maggie hooked the other end of the rope onto the open trapdoor in her roof. Then she pulled a pulley device out of the knapsack. Maggie jogged back to the edge of the roof and looked down at the four-story drop that awaited her.

"Okay," she said, "I'm going for it."

She hung the pulley onto the rope stretching across. It had two handles that Maggie took hold of. Leaning over the edge, she took a deep breath, then pushed off.

Maggie rolled down the rope towards Masquerade's rooftop, legs dangling below her. The ground swept below her as the apartment building hurtled closer. As she did, a siren began to wail.

"What's going on?" Maggie yelled.

* * *

In Pamela's bedroom, her computer were flashing red backgrounds and beeping sirens. Wade and Pamela typed at a frenzied pace, closing down windows that popped up on the screen.

"It's Masquerade," Wade said into her microphone. "We're busted."

* * *

Arturo sat in a wobbly chair with ropes wound around his chest, along his arms to pin them behind his back, and down to his ankles. He glared at the back of the armchair where Masquerade was sitting. On three of the monitors, animated chessboards were at work. Pieces slid across the board in a smooth ballet.

"Three games at once?" Arturo asked.

Masquerade's voice came out of the chair. "Yup. I'm in a tournament with the top three players in the world. None of them know I'm Masquerade, of course. And I find playing only one game at a time boring."

Arturo raised his head slightly. "I say, exactly what is the point of all this? Why don't you just send out your little virus, kill me, and let us both get on with our lives?"

"I have to decrypt the virus first. That's number one. Number two, I want someone to be here to watch my triumph. You're going to have a front-row seat to the destruction of the technological empire. You should be proud."

"Trust me, I'm in ecstasy," Arturo snarled. "And afterwards, you will release me?"

"Maybe. I haven't decided yet." The pieces on the chessboards moved in one sweeping gesture, then all four boards began giving off a trilling music. "Checkmate. Um, I mean, checkmates."

The wall of monitors suddenly flooded with a harsh red light. Then, one by one, they began to flash a message that a feminine voice read aloud. "Intruder Alert. Intruder Alert. Unauthorized User."

"What?" The armchair shifted and tiny hands appeared at the sides to type on the massive bank of keyboards. "Who would hack into my computer? What's this... an anomaly in the security logs. Someone's running a continuous loop on the roof camera."

The clicking of keys followed. Then one of the screens lit up with a shot of the roof. The camera turned to show Maggie sliding down a rope towards it.

"Well, well, well, the cavalry arrives. But just one person? That's a let-down. I thought the moment when someone finally tracked me down and tried to get through my defenses would be more exciting. Oh, well, I'll take what I can get." Masquerade began to type, humming to himself.

* * *

The pulley hissed as Maggie rushed down it. She was squinting against the air hitting her face at such a high speed. But she was able to see as rows of small doors opened up on the side of the building. And the barrels of machine guns came out.

"Guys," Maggie yelled.

* * *

Wade and Pamela were huddled over their keyboards, typing as quickly as their hands could move. On the screens in front of them, windows containing the words "Access Denied" exploded, then shrank, only to be replaced by more.

"We're trying," Wade said, "but Masquerade's locking us out of every system manually. The gun control, motion sensors, targeting..."

* * *

Maggie tightened her grip on the pulley as she said, "Okay, I'll handle it myself."

She let go.

The guns burst into fire. A storm of bullets flashed through the air, punching holes in the apartment building behind her. Maggie herself was carried through the air by the momentum of her slide to the building in front of her.

Maggie slammed into the wall, the air forced out of her lungs on impact. But she acted quickly to grab hold of the brickwork and hang on. The guns blazed around her for a few more seconds, then fell silent. They began to turn towards her. But came to a halt. Their motors whined as the guns struggled to reach her, but they weren't designed to fire so close to the building where she was..

Maggie took a few deep breaths, then looked up. An open window was a few feet above her. Maggie grit her teeth and began to climb.

* * *

"Back in," Pamela yelled.

Wade glanced at her. "Great. Now that we're in, what do we do?"

"Have to stop those guns. Even if your friend manages to get inside the building, they'll cut her to ribbons if we don't."

Wade typed as she yelled, "Shut down weapons systems. All of them!"

Pamela shook her head. "Can't. Masquerade is locking me out manually. We're losing it."

Wade glared at the menus on her screen that took the form of yellow boxes. One by one, the boxes turned red and flashed "Access Denied." There was only one box left that read "Target Identification."

A grin spread across Wade's face. "I got an idea."

Wade typed again, bringing up a new screen that showed a glowing outline of Maggie. Wade clicked on an arrow several times. Another outline of Maggie appeared next to the first, then another and another.

Wade touched the microphone held in front of her mouth. "Okay, Beckett, we can't shut down the guns. But we're sending them multiple signals to confuse them. That's the best we can do."

* * *

"It'll do," Maggie grunted.

She reached the windowsill and tore away the plastic sheet covering the window. Then she grabbed hold of the windowsill desperately with one hand. She pulled herself up.

Maggie was on the third floor. The rotted planks of the floor gaped in front of her. And several machine guns mounted in the corners of the room squealed and turned towards her.

Maggie's eyes widened.

Then there was a chirp. The guns wheeled around towards the center of the room. Then one of them turned towards its partner and fired. The targeted gun and the wall around it shattered into pieces. Then the other guns began to fire, spinning wildly.

Maggie grinned and hauled herself through the window. She ducked as one of the guns swept its chain of fire towards her, then dove for a hole in the floor. Maggie swung down through the hole onto the second floor.

* * *

Masquerade's frown deepened as he watched his screens. One of them showed a model of the building's interior. Human figures danced and ran all over it.

"This can't be right," Masquerade said. "I'm detecting hundreds of people up there, but I only hear one. Someone must have duped the signal. Now I'm getting mad."

Masquerade typed quickly. "Your friends won't win, Arturo. I'm switching to heat-sensors."

Arturo smiled. "My friends are more resourceful than you might think."

"Maybe. But I have insurance." Masquerade turned his chair so Arturo could watch him drag out an Uzi from a holster under his desk. "If worse comes to worse, I'll do the job myself."

* * *

Maggie let go and dropped onto the second floor. The guns were firing and whirling all around her. The hole leading down to the first floor was across the room.

"He's switching to heat-sensors," Wade said into her ear. "We can't stop him or confuse the signal! You're on your own!"

Maggie did a series of flips that carried her across the building. The guns struggled to keep pace with her, rushing around in their metal sockets. Bullets whizzed around her. She finally ducked and did a slide that took her to the edge of the hole. She yanked off her ski mask and looked down the hole into the room below. A network of cables spread across the floor like the threading of a spider web.

* * *

Masquerade glared up at the hole in the ceiling in front of him. "So that's how they want to play."

Arturo began to breathe quicker, then called out, "Look out..."

Masquerade swung his gun around to aim at him. The Uzi seemed too big for the boy to even hold up straight. But it was aimed unflinchingly at Arturo's head. "Shut up. Or I'll do you first. Then I'll erase the medical records in a few hospitals for good measure."

Arturo swallowed, looking slightly pale. Masquerade whirled and aimed the gun at the hole again. Above them, the mass of gun had fallen silent. The only sound was the low hum of the computer's fan.

Then something fell from the hole. Masquerade opened fire. Bullets punched into the ski mask, knocking it off- course until it finally fluttered to the ground.

The ceiling above Masquerade crashed down. He threw up his arms against the rain of plaster and wood splinters that rained down on him. The Uzi flew out of his hands. It clattered onto the floor.

Maggie landed behind his chair. She spun it around and brought up one hand which held one of the machine guns from the rooms above, torn from its base. She aimed it into the chair. For a moment, she was frozen as she looked down at the small boy. Then she glanced away at Arturo. Her gun remained on the child.

"Max?" she asked. "Where's Masquerade?"

Arturo jerked his chin forward. "My dear captain, the elusive super-hacker we seek is right before you. That is Masquerade."

Maggie looked down at the boy again. The child glared up at her and idly brushed off his dusty collar. "This little pip-squeak?"

"I'm ten times smarter than you are," Masquerade snarled.

Maggie lowered her gun slightly. "I don't believe this. I've been jumping all over this place, risking my neck, over this little thing."

"Do not underestimate him, Miss Beckett. He is ingenious and ruthless. I've seen it with my own eyes. This place is more than enough to support his malicious intentions."

"Then I'll put a stop to that." Maggie swung around and aimed her gun at the wall of monitors.

Masquerade jumped to his feet in the chair, his eyes popping open wide. "No!"

Maggie fired. The monitors exploded one by one in a shower of sparks that pattered onto the floor. She swung her rattling gun around to punch holes into the towers, piles of disks, scanners, speakers, and other assorted hardware scattered around the room. It all went up in a blaze of flames and lightning. When she finally released the trigger, there was nothing left but smoldering piles of twisted metal.

Masquerade stared at it all with his mouth hanging open. He blinked. Then whispered, "What...have you done..."

Maggie glared down at him. "Pulled the plug. And I'm sure by now the police have been called and are on their way here to handle you."

Wade's voice crackled in her ear. "You bet they are."

Maggie strode over to Arturo and began untying the knots. "Although, as far as I'm concerned, what this kid needs is a good spanking."

Arturo watched the ropes loosen around him until he could stand up. He massaged his wrists as he shot a look at the boy. Masquerade's attention was still locked on the piles of battered equipment.

"No," Arturo sighed. "What this boy needs is a life."

* * *

EPILOGUE

Arturo and Wade leaned against the statue of Abraham Lincoln in the park. They watched as Quinn and Maggie walked along the bank of the nearby lake.

"Well," Arturo said, "with that Masquerade business sorted out, this has been a somewhat calmer week."

Wade looked up at a bird sailing overhead. "Yup. I think I'm gonna kinda miss this world. It was so convenient."

Arturo reached into his pocket and drew out the Lamplighter.Com matchbook he had taken. "Well, I for one shall not. After that little bout of Internet addiction, I'm more determined than ever to stay away from those infernal contraptions. There is such a thing as too much access to information."

"Well, the way I see it, computers are tools. They're not bad or good. Just how you use 'em."

Arturo turned the matchbook over and over in his fingers. "Perhaps. But I hope the next world is more sensible. I say, what are those two talking about?"

Wade shrugged. "I dunno. But I know what they're _not_ talking about."

Arturo frowned at her. "What's that?"

Wade smiled and watched the bird settling in a nearby tree. It was moving towards another bird sitting in a nest. "Oh, nothing."

* * *

Quinn sat on his heels, watching a swan floating across the water. Behind him, Maggie was sitting on a bench. She sighed.

"Okay," she said, "so are we gonna talk about this now or not?"

Quinn looked over his shoulder at her. "What?"

Maggie leaned forward to rest her elbows on her knees. She smiled at Quinn. "You've been giving me the silent treatment since we freed Arturo and got back the virus days ago."

"You mean since _you_ freed Arturo and got back the virus," Quinn murmured.

A smile spread across Maggie's face. "That's what I thought. I stole your thunder, didn't I, Mallory?"

Quinn looked back at the swan again. The bird fluttered its wings, then paddled farther away, leaving ripples in its wake. "It's not like that. I just didn't appreciate you taking over the group like that. We're a team. Always have been, always will be."

"Right. Everybody's equal. But like Orwell said, some people are more equal than others."

Quinn watched the ripples as he said, "I don't get your point."

Maggie leaned back against the bench. "Let's face it, Mallory. You're a scientist. I'm a soldier. When it's time to mess with the wormhole or pull a McGyver, you're in charge. But when it comes time to kick some butt, I'm in charge. And since we seem to spend an awful lot of time kicking butt on our slides..."

Quinn pivoted on his heel to look up at Maggie grinning down at him. "So you wanna take over, is that it?"

Maggie shrugged. "The way I see it, every good team has to have a command structure. And I'm the best qualified to be at the top."

"I think Wade's gonna have a problem with that."

Maggie's smile broadened. "I'll deal with that when it comes. You guys have to face facts. I'm not the same gal I used to be. And there are gonna be some changes."

Quinn glared at her. "Maybe. Then again...maybe not."

Wade's voice carried over to them. "Here they come!"

Quinn rose to his feet to watch as Rembrandt approached the statue. Walking close by his side, almost touching him, was a young girl huddled in black clothes. It was Pamela, looking around herself wildly through the lenses of large sunglasses.

Wade smiled. "I'm really glad you came."

Pamela looked up at her with her head lowered. "Rembrandt made me."

Rembrandt put his arm around her shoulder and gave her a little squeeze. "I can't make you do anything, girl. I just gave you a little nudge in the right direction."

Pamela folded her arms over her chest tightly. "I just want you all to know that Rembrandt's told me about your whole sliding thing, and I think you're all crazy."

Quinn shoved his hands into his pockets as he smiled down at her. "But you still came to watch us slide."

Pamela looked over the top of her sunglasses at him. "I came to watch what you think you're sliding. I figure it'll be good for a laugh."

Rembrandt took hold of Pamela's shoulders and faced her squarely. His eyes met hers intensely. "Look...I know I can't make you get out into the world and stop living through your computer. I can't make the pain you've been through disappear. Although I wish I could. But what I can do is show you somethin' you ain't ever gonna see on a computer screen. And somethin' you'd have missed if you hadn't left it."

Rembrandt looked at Quinn and nodded. Quinn drew the timing device out of his pocket and looked at the display, which counted down from five to four to three to two...

Quinn aimed the timer at the edge of the lake. He pushed the button. It spat a beam of light out to strike the air. The water of the lake ripped in time with the empty space that rippled until it finally buckled into a circular blue hole.

Pamela's mouth fell open as she watched the hole hovering above the lake, light pouring into its interior.

Maggie walked towards the wormhole and gave Pamela a little wave. "Nice meeting you, kid. Hope the whole get-a-life thing works out for ya." Then she jogged forward a few steps and jumped into the vortex. She disappeared in a flash of light.

Arturo ran forward and followed her into the light, along with Wade, and Quinn. Only Rembrandt was left behind to face Pamela. He stood there for a moment, his clothes flapping in the wind of the wormhole.

"Don't give up, Pam," Rembrandt yelled over the howling wind. "That's all I ask. Just don't give up."

Then he turned and dove into the vortex. It closed behind him with a rushing noise that abruptly became silence.

Pamela stood there for a moment, staring at the lake where the wormhole had formed. Then she looked down at the swan paddling gracefully across the waters. For a moment, she was frozen, watching it, then she took slow steps towards the park bench.

Pamela reached down and touched the solid wood of the bench. Then she sank slowly down onto it. When she was seated, Pamela took a deep breath. Her eyes closed. She smiled.

When she opened them, her large eyes turned towards the horizon and the sun that was setting over the trees.

THE END