Fantasy in Death

She left them to it, signaled to Peabody.

“Uniforms did the knock-on-doors,” Peabody told her as they started out. “Since his place takes up the top three floors of the building, we didn’t get anything. The doorman on duty last night came in when contacted. He confirms time of arrival, and swears no one came in for Mi

“A smart e-geek employs, works with, and knows other smart e-geeks. Let’s go find out who didn’t like good old Bart.”

U-Play sprawled and spread over the converted warehouse. Activity, and what struck Eve as a manic energy, buzzed and beeped in the air. From the countless comps and screens, the open labs and offices came the sounds of vehicle crashes, space wars, maniacal laughter, booming threats, and the cheers of the victorious.

Little worlds, complex fantasies, endless competition, Eve thought. How did anyone keep it straight?

People, some who looked barely old enough to buy a brew and all clad in wild colors or the sag and bag of lounge wear, bounced over the four open floors. To her ear, they seemed to all talk at once in their incomprehensible e-shorthand as they operated handhelds, communicated on headsets, played with smart screens, and slurped down a variety of bottled go-drinks.

It was like EDD on Zeus, Eve thought.

“It’s Nerd World,” Peabody said. “Or Geek Galaxy. I can’t decide which because it’s full of nerds and geeks.”

“It’s Nerd World in the Geek Galaxy. How can they hear themselves think? Why doesn’t anybody close a door?”

“As someone who lives with a geek with aspects of nerd, I can tell you they claim the noise, the movement, the basic chaos keeps them up, keeps them sharp.”

“Their heads should all explode.” Eve watched people ride up and down old freight elevators cased with glass or jog up and down iron stairs in clunky airboots or ski

Eve grabbed one, a young woman wearing what looked to be a pair of overalls that had been splattered with paint by a crazed three-year-old.

“Who’s in charge?”

The woman, who had multiple rings in her ears, nose, eyebrows, blinked. “Of what?”

“Of this.” Eve raised an arm to encompass the madness.

“Oh. Bart. But he’s not in yet. I don’t think.”

“Who’s next? Down the chain?”

“Um.”

“Let’s try this.” Eve pulled out her badge.

“Oh, gosh. We’re all legal and stuff. Maybe if you want to talk about licenses and all that, you want Cill or Be

“Where do I find Cill or Be

“Um.” She pointed up. “Probably on three.” She turned a circle, looking up. “There’s Be

Be

By the time they’d climbed to the third floor, her eardrums throbbed from the noise, her eyes twitched from the assault of color and image, and she’d decided U-Play was in reality the seventh circle of hell.

She found Be

Still, he managed to send her a blinding white smile and hold up a hand in a “just a sec” gesture. His words hit her in one long buzz about nano, mothers, terabytes and CGI.

The ’link on his loaded work counter beeped, and when his pocket began to chime, Eve assumed he had a ’link in there, too. Someone came to the doorway, lifted the thumb of one hand, gave a back-andforth move with the other. Be

“Sorry.” In a pretty voice with just a hint of island breezes, Be

“Mr. Leman.” Eve held up her badge. “I’m Lieutenant Dallas, NYPSD. This is my partner, Detective Peabody.”

“Golly.” Though the smile remained, it edged toward puzzled. “Is somebody in trouble about something?”

“You could say that.” She gestured to Peabody to close the door. Like the walls, it was glass, but at least it cut some of the noise. “Would you turn off that screen?”

“Okay. Am I in trouble about something? Oh shit, did Mongo get on the ’link? I didn’t get home last night, but my droid’s supposed to look after him. I-”

“Who’s Mongo?”

“My parrot. He’s a good boy, but he likes to access the ’link for cranks.”

“It’s not about your parrot. It concerns Bart Mi

“Bart? Bart’s in trouble? That explains why I can’t reach him. But Bart wouldn’t do anything illegal. Does he need a lawyer? Should I…” Something crossed his face-a new kind of puzzlement, and the first shadows of fear. “Is he hurt? Was there an accident?”

“I’m sorry to have to tell you Mr. Mi

“Oh come on!” Quicksilver anger replaced the fear. “He was here yesterday. This isn’t fu

“It’s not a joke, Mr. Leman,” Peabody said gently. “Mr. Mi

“Nuh-uh.” The childish denial came out poignantly as tears sheened deep, dark eyes. Be

To keep their faces level, Eve crouched. “I’m very sorry for your loss, and I understand this is a shock, but we need to ask you some questions.”

“In his apartment? But he has security. He has good security. He’s too trusting. Did he let someone in? I don’t understand.” He looked at her pleadingly as tears streamed down his cheeks. “Are you sure? Are you positive?”

“Yes. Do you know someone who’d want to hurt him?”

“Not Bart.” Be

She wanted to wait on the details. “When did you last see him or have contact with him?”

“He left early yesterday. I’m not sure. About four, maybe. He had a date with CeeCee. His girl. And he had some things he wanted to do at home. He was really happy.” He grabbed Eve’s hand. “CeeCee? Is she hurt? Is she okay?”

“Yes, she’s fine. She wasn’t there.”

On a ragged breath, Be

“Was he having any trouble here, with the company, with employees?”

“No. No. Things are good. Really good. It’s a happy place. Bart runs a happy place.”

“What about competitors?”

“Nothing, really. Some try to hack in, or try to get a weasel inside. That’s just the way it is. It’s kind of like another game. Bart’s careful. We’re all careful. We have good security. We screen and delouse and realign regularly.”

The door opened. Eve glanced back to see a stu

“Bens, what the hell? I’m piled up by six, and you’re… What’s wrong?” She rushed in to drop by his side. “What happened?”

“It’s Bart, Cilly, it’s Bart. He’s dead.”

“Oh, don’t be stupid.” She slapped his arm, started to rise again, but he grabbed her hand.

“Cilly, it’s true. These are the police.”

“What are you talking about?” Her reaction Eve gauged as insult as she pushed fluidly to her feet. “Let me see some badges.”