Daemon

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 Gate
is supposed to have a back door in it.’
    ‘We’re trying to 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 unemployedbuild 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 of 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