The Dragon Man - Brian Stableford [78]
“What’s his name?” Mother Maryelle demanded, obviously thinking that this was a matter requiring intricate parental negotiations between their two households. “Where does he live?”
“I don’t know,” Sara muttered, in a forlorn tone. “It really doesn’t matter. Not now.”
CHAPTER XXII
Because the next day was Monday, Sara had no alternative but to return to her normal routine. She woke up tired and fractious, and breakfast was an unusually somber affair, but when nine o’clock came around she had to be at her desktop with her hood on, logged in to her virtual classroom.
She could tell by the way that the images of the other students looked at her that the news had got around that she’d visited the Dragon Man on Saturday and Sunday, before he’d collapsed at his desk on Sunday evening. The syllabus had its own momentum, though, and Ms. Mapledean couldn’t have been less inclined to let anything get in its way if she’d been a tightly-programmed AI—which, since she’d never actually seen her teacher in meatspace, Sara sometimes suspected that she might be.
When the first break came and the school’s population was distributed across a new series of virtual spaces, Gennifer suggested that she and Sara should escape into a hidden corner of their own, but Sara refused. She expected to be mobbed by a crowd eager for news, but that wasn’t what happened. She was in the main playground, accessible to anyone and everyone, but she found that her classmates were reluctant to flock around her. They seemed to prefer talking about her to talking to her. Gennifer was obviously annoyed with her, but it took some time for Sara to figure out that the others simply didn’t know what to say, and were waiting for her to make the first move. Eventually, she went to join Davy Bennett, Julian Sillings, and Margareta Madrovic, whose conversation fell silent as she approached.
“It’s all right,” she said. “Whatever the Dragon Man has, it isn’t catching.”
“It wouldn’t be catching in virtual space anyway,” Davy pointed out, ingenuously.
“Exactly,” Sara said. “So why are you avoiding me?”
“We’re not,” Margareta was quick to say.
“It wasn’t my fault he collapsed,” Sara said. “He was glad of the chance to have something to do—something to discover. He’d have collapsed anyway.”
“Nobody thinks it was your fault, Sara,” Julian told her. “Has anyone...talked to you about it?”
“The police, you mean? Of course not. So it’s all right for you to talk to me about it, if you want to.”
“What do you mean, something to discover?” Davy wanted to know. Sara didn’t know whether or not to be glad that the full story hadn’t yet got around. She opened her mouth to start explaining why she had gone to the Dragon Man’s shop for a second time, but shut it again when someone else joined the group, approaching from behind so that the first evidence Sara had of his presence was the change in her companions’ attitudes. As she turned her head, the slight resistance of the hood’s cables provided a sharp reminder of the fact that she was peering into a virtual world at mere simulacrum. She changed stance, so that the newcomer could join the group.
Sara knew immediately who the older boy was—not just his name, but that he must be the shadowbats’ owner. She was surprised to find that he seemed shorter than he had the previous night, perhaps because of the angle at which she’d been looking down at him, but that wasn’t why she hadn’t recognized him.
“Sara Lindley,” he said.
“You know I am,” she retorted. “Come to get me, have you? Where everyone can watch?”
“Actually,” he said, “I came to say sorry. I’m Michael Rawlinson, year eleven.”
“I know who you are,” she said. “We’ve met, remember—in the flesh. I was five and you were seven.”
He blushed. “I should have realized that you’d have guessed,” he said. “Wouldn’t take a detective to work out that the likeliest suspect was the boy next door. I should have come right