He signed off and so did I.
Then I googled the word Hydra and confirmed that James’s account of the Lernaean baddie had been accurate. I looked at a fearsome illustration of it, with its many snapping, fanged, monstrous heads, and then doodled in the margins of my notebook while I reviewed my notes from my interviews with Anavi and the Warheads.
Maddy had a pair of fancy headphones on, and the tinny sound of music emanated from them. She was in charge of posting a music review on the Scoop daily, and from the squinting and typing she was doing, she must be in the process of writing the latest.
At least a million years seemed to creep past before James the Third got up and went out to the hall, presumably to hit the bathroom. But when I glanced over at the Morgue’s ancient Roman-numeraled clock, it had been less than ten minutes. “And we’re clear,” I said, keeping my voice low. “Now, what’s the plan?”
Devin put a finger to his lips for me to not just be quiet, but silent. He typed something into his keyboard, and I nearly jumped out of my chair when the Scoop computer on my desk made a beep. I hadn’t touched it yet, but I moved my laptop aside and squinted at the IM box that had popped up on the other computer’s screen.
DevTheMighty: Stay put. I can’t let you have mine.
I hit the reply button and my username popped up. It was apparently tied to my Scoop email account, which I was just discovering I had. And so my username was the boringly straightforward LoisLane. Why did Devin get a cool name?
Right. Because he’s an expert with computers.
LoisLane: But . . .
That was all I got out of my intended attempt to tell Devin that he had to loan me his, that there was no other way, before he wheeled his chair away from his desk. He pedaled over to James’s, checking to make sure Maddy didn’t look up. She didn’t.
Devin pulled out James’s side desk drawer and lifted a holoset out of it. He shut the drawer gently and wheeled toward me. “You lost me a life the other day. I don’t go around losing lives in there.”
Maddy remained absorbed, the tinny music a soundtrack to this cloak-and-dagger.
“James won’t loan that to me,” I whispered.
“Plan B. I set this up for James the first week we were working here. I think it’s something his dad taught him, find out what new people you meet are good at, and ask them for a favor. They’ll say yes and like you more for needing them. Pretty sure he does it with everyone.”
“Not me.”
“Even James isn’t dense enough to think he can make you like him.” Devin slid his chair close to mine, hooking James’s holoset over his ear. “Don’t worry about it. It’s good for him to run up against someone who isn’t falling all over him. He’ll never even notice this is gone—he hasn’t used it since I set it up for him. Or even taken it back out of his desk.”
“You don’t seem at all pissed that he wasted your time,” I said.
Devin shrugged and hit a couple of buttons. No holo appeared in front of him. He said, “I’m in the audio menu, setting your character up on here. I created it online.” Then he muttered a few things that did in fact sound like menu selections. He took off the holoset and pressed it into my hand. He didn’t move back right away.
“What?” I asked.
“James has had a rough couple of years. I know how that sucks. I figure we understand each other enough that I don’t need to rub it in. And look how handy this is coming in. Maybe cut him a break?”
“I’ll consider it,” I told him.
Devin was more like me than the others. I liked him as much as I did Maddy. Another genuine friend possibility.
Metropolis was all right.
“You should be good to go,” he said. “It’ll spit you out near my territory in the game . . . which is also a place Anavi and the Warheads hang out. I play solo, like she does now. They’re in a team, and so a lot stronger than you’ll be as a solo newbie. I gave your character an alliance that should help.” Devin hesitated again. Then, “Do you want me to meet you in there? For backup?”
It was a generous offer, and if I hadn’t already had an ally on tap, one that I would have taken.
“Not necessary,” I said. “I have a friend inside already. He said to get the coordinates from you. And we might need you later since you’re better at the game and all the computer stuff. Better for you not to get in their faces yet. Keep you in reserve.”
Getting the same kind of target on Devin’s back—or mind—that Anavi had was the last thing I wanted. I didn’t know how dangerous the Warheads might be, but I did know they had a pattern of targeting people who played Worlds War Three.
I wasn’t going to tell him that, though. Boys didn’t like being protected—at least not when they knew about it.
“Let me know if you change your mind. Now or later,” he said.