“Indeed. He’s a mercenary for hire. Kills first, asks questions later. He’s a Gulf War vet, watched his CO get blown to bits in front of him and then ate lunch. Came back from combat a little whacked out and his wife left him six months later. Took his baby girl. Ever since, the only thing keeping the demons away is a little more action. He never says no to a job.”

“Jesus, Jeremiah,” Brent said with a smirk. “Does he have a favorite color, too?”

“What’s wrong with a little backstory? Gives him substance, I think. It makes him seem more real.”

“Yeah,” Brent told him, wide-eyed. “Except he’s not real. He’s made of pixels and photons. And maybe a little bit of crazy.”

Jeremiah just shrugged and started shooting.

“Hey,” Brent said after they’d gone a few rounds, “you want to really test Clyde out?”

“Yeah. Start shooting.”

“No, not with me, I mean with someone else.”

“In case you haven’t noticed,” Jeremiah said, “you and I are the only ones here. You want me to call Scott? Challenge him to a game? Maybe get a pizza?”

Brent smirked. “I accessed the beta platform. Been playing with this guy who’s pretty good. Better than me, honestly. I still can’t beat him.”

“Do you really think it’s a wise move to take a risk like that? So you can play a game?”

“I know what I’m doing,” he said. “I’m not a complete idiot. Besides, I think Scott and the rest of them have bigger things to worry about right now than me getting on the beta. Believe me, they’re not even looking at this.”

“Okay, then,” Jeremiah said. “What do we do?”

Brent began a series of fast maneuvers with the handset, typing in lines of code that appeared in rapid succession on the side of the screen. It looked like gibberish to Jeremiah.

“There,” Brent said. “We’re in. Now I just need to send this guy a request. He’s usually around in the afternoons.”

He typed a screen name with the handset and Jeremiah’s eyes grew wider as each letter appeared on the screen: L...o...u... D...o...g...1...2...3.

That was Parker’s screen name. Jeremiah was certain of it. It was the same name he used for everything—every password, the combination for his locker at school and every game he played online. Jeremiah had told him more than once that he ought to vary it up a little, but he never did.

“LouDog123?” he asked. “That’s who you’ve been playing?”

Brent looked at him sideways. “Yeah. So what?”

“Brent. That’s Parker. You’ve been playing Infinite Frontiers with my son.”

“No.”

“That’s Parker,” he said again. “Remember? He asked the clone for the beta? That’s him. I’m sure of it.”

On the screen, LouDog123 accepted the game request and an avatar somewhat less sinister looking than Clyde appeared blinking on the screen, waiting for battle.

“What do I do?” Jeremiah asked, a sudden wave of worry momentarily paralyzing him.

“I suggest you begin with a grenade,” Brent said. “Just play. He won’t know it’s you.”