Enzo Matrix

"There! That's the toy store!"

"How're we supposed to get back there?"

"Through here. G-gimme a hand..."

*scrape* "It's... kind of a tight squeeze..."

"Turn it a-a little to the left."

"Where in the 'Net did you get a zipboard this big?"

"Birthday present. From... a hacker we know..."

"You mean the Mouse. You can lay off the secrecy, everybody's heard the rumours."

"Um. Okay?"

"Now where do we put it?"

"How 'bout the dumpster?"

"Will it fit?"

"If it's empty..."

"Give me a boost, please." *creak* *skrunch* "Hey, cool! A lot of this stuff is barely broken at all! There're hula hoops and goto sticks... Alvey, want a pair of skates?"

"M-maybe. Are they s-size A3?"

"Not these... oh, here's a pair! *rattle* They've got a loose bit, but I can ask Hugh to weld it."

"Really? You d-don't have to go to any trouble f-for me..."

"It's no trouble, he does a lot of welding anyway. That's why we usually have to knock before entering our room, so we don't go blind."

"Caret! Is there room?"

"Oh! Almost, yeah. Here, I'll toss some stuff out. Alvey, catch!" *clank* *whump* *clatter* "I wonder why the bottom is full of rocks?"

"Maybe they were trying to clone Enzo's head."

"Don't be mean. And he's already a clone. *thud* *clatter* "All right, that should be enough... and it's most of the good stuff... hold on..." *scrabblescrabblescrabble* *thump*

"Okay, now... how do we get it in?"

"Um... well, if we kinda... lower it partway and tip it... can you shrink the zipboard and pull it out from under?"

"Yeah, I think so! If I hold onto the struts..."

*SKREEEEEEE*

"Nnnnygh! Keep it down!"

"I'm tryin'! Okay..."

*SKRUNCH*

"Ha! Okay, we just need to pin this in the lid, and we're set!"

Perfect timing, too; as feet are planted on the ground and zipboards minimized, there comes a crescendoing roar, and five motorbikes of the smaller sort enter the alley from all directions - two through side passages, three over the rooftops. Johnny and Roxie are riding the two in best repair; their binome cohorts are doubled up as necessary on the others.

"You're early," Johnny declares as the bikes pull to a halt on either side of the dumpster, where they'll be less in the way of the proceedings. "Eager for your pounding, bitheads?"

"Why, look, Johnny," Roxie exclaims in simulated delight. "They do have some friends after all! Ain't that nice?"

"As if," snaps Esim. "We're not here for him."

Condela nods and glares at Roxie. "We're here for my aircart."

(It's true enough, though Enzo doesn't appreciate being ranked below a mere conveyance, especially one with that much glitter. They needed someone else on their side, or they'd get creamed for sure, even with their secret weapon. And Enzo was still too ashamed to tell anyone else who wasn't in the same boat, which left only one known option. Besides, they are really good in Unarmed Combat.

Surprisingly, after the gales of laughter, the sarcastic refusal, and the scowling threat of telling the faculty, it was Alvey who persuaded them. "They're s-scared," she informed Enzo, and told the older two, "It's okay. W-we're scared, too. But it's s-something we have to do." Esim promptly declared that there was no way the "glory hound" would be "acting sooooo brave" without him there too, and Condela concurred. Alvey later admitted that she'd gotten the technique from "a l-lot of books, actually.")

"Oh, I remember them!" one binome is saying, as they all dismount and saunter in the direction of the cadets. "They were at the movies. You looked swell on her aircart, Roxie."

"Gee, thanks, Cookie!" She grins at Condela. "I hope we didn't hurt it or nothin'..."

Condela just glowers. Enzo wonders what they did after he left.

"This is gonna be easy," says another binome; Enzo can't tell if he's complaining or not. "They ain't even wearing their armour!"

"And what's he wearing?" demands another, pointing at Caret.

Enzo can't blame the Worms there. Having determined that it would be wisest not to sneak out in uniform, Caret had proceeded to speculate on what would be practical clothing for a fight. Enzo had to persuade him that a suit of fantasy Game-style armour would probably be more trouble than it was worth. He's not sure where Caret got the gi, but figures it's an improvement.

Enzo himself has on his old blue pants and the Applet t-shirt Tom gave him for his birthday (which Alvey liked a great deal). He's left off his cap but kept the shoulder, knee and elbow pads on the grounds that they can only help, and he's added another birthday present as well. The others are similarly casually attired, though he's not sure how inconspicuous a shirt can be with as many rhinestones on it as Condela's has.

"It's a ぎ," Caret is explaining matter-of-factly. "It's for fighting." He's barefoot, too.

"Right, so let's get started," Enzo says. Glancing significantly at his compatriots, he adds, "now!"

Condela smiles sweetly and presses a button on the remote control she's been palming.

Nothing happens. Not so much as a beep. "Fine by me," Johnny says, and lunges, swinging a dull brown fist at Enzo's face.

Enzo just has time to see Condela's smile change to a horrified expression, and his own probably matches, but then the rest of the Worms are charging forward. Enzo barely recovers himself in time to dodge; as it is, Johnny's fist grazes the side of his forehead.

Enzo's got strong legs for his age, and good reaction time; he kicks out at Johnny's knee, and follows it with a right to the torso. Why didn't it work? That was their secret weapon! It was supposed to keep the fight from getting too bad, if it didn't stop it before it started. Stupid remote!

Both of Enzo's blows connect, but Johnny is already staggering back a bit from the kick, and the motion reduces Enzo's punch to a tap. Johnny looks surprised, then angry, and kicks back with his other leg. His boot slams into Enzo's side, sending the smaller boy reeling sideways to slam into the binome called Cookie, who was just gearing up to hit Esim. Enzo and Cookie both go sprawling, while Esim punches at the tall binome with some ferocity, trying to reach his eye-block.

Johnny follows Enzo, grinning viciously, and aims another kick. Enzo rolls aside, and the kick glances off Cookie, who yelps indignantly. Caret comes up behind Johnny and tries to knock him down with one of those low, side-sweeping kicks; he's half-successful, as their legs become entangled and they both topple.

Enzo smacks Cookie aside with a left backhand; she screeches as his bracer clangs off her, and as his hand clenches, one finger accidentally triggers the grappling hook, which shoots past Cookie's face entirely too close for her comfort. It grabs onto the eaves of one of the surrounding buildings. Enzo, not one to waste an opportunity, taps the Retract button and is yanked free of the mêlée to dangle by his left arm a good five pixels off the ground.

This is not a comfortable position to be in, especially not for his shoulder, but it gives him a breather and a good view of the proceedings. Caret is dodging a series of blows from the infuriated Johnny, but Cookie's coming up behind him. Esim is clinging tenaciously to the tall 1's back and may very soon overbalance him. Condela is still focused entirely on Roxie, the light of vengeance in her eyes. Alvey...

Alvey isn't fighting. The three remaining Worms are closing in on her, backing her up against the dumpster. None of them are close enough to start throwing punches yet, but when they do, it's gonna be ugly.

Enzo fumbles at his belt, hoping he can properly maximize his boogie baud one-handed. Below, Caret seems to have spotted Alvey, too. He dodges Johnny again, who ends up hitting Cookie for the second time, and runs in Alvey's direction.

Alvey's back bumps against the dumpster. She takes one frantic look around, then taps her icon and shoots forward on the skates Caret retrieved from the dumpster. She wobbles on the broken wheels, but keeps her balance enough to dart between the two closest Worms. All three binomes lunge for her, but succeed in doing nothing but colliding heavily. Caret, coming up on them, grabs a hula hoop from the litter of half-broken toys around the dumpster and slams it down around them, pinning their arms.

Alvey wheels around and, tapping her icon to remove the skates again, climbs up onto the trapped binomes' heads to access the dumpster. A quick lift and a slide and she's inside.

Enzo waits tensely a few picoseconds, and then gives a shout of triumph as white foam begins to spew from the output nozzle balanced on the lip of the dumpster. The force of the foam immediately upsets that balance, but Alvey rises into view again, standing atop the foam generator, grabs the hose, and directs it back toward the fight, aiming to hit the Worms while keeping the other cadets relatively unscathed. She is only moderately successful in this regard; her aim is good, but Hugh didn't build the foam machine as a precision device, and the new delivery system is intended for efficiency more than anything. Esim and Condela are hard pressed to keep their footing. Their opponents, on the other hand, are knocked right down and buried. Enzo's put in mind of Userspace clouds, the big fluffy kind.

From nearer the dumpster, there's a fresh cry of pain. Alvey's three assailants have broken out of their makeshift restraint and turned on their captor. Two have him by the arms and legs, leaving the largest binome free to retaliate at will. There's a yelp of alarm from the dumpster, and the nozzle is directed toward the big 0, knocking him back away from Caret. With the stream off them, Roxie and Condela lunge for each other again, wrestling amid the mounds of foam, and Johnny is struggling to his feet.

Enzo does not wait to see what Johnny intends to do. He presses the Release button on his grappler. The claw relaxes its hold on the eaves, dropping Enzo onto his now-maximized boogie baud. He retracts the line and zooms for Johnny from behind. The fore edge of the baud slams into the backs of Johnny's knees, forcing him to sit down heavily on the baud, which is now climbing back up to roof level and above.

The snarling youth twists around to see Enzo aiming his left arm straight at his face, like the barrel of a gun.

"Tell them to stop," Enzo tells him.

Johnny stares over the back of Enzo's hand at his bracer, at the humped protrusion just behind his hand with the hole in the front for pointy metal to emerge from at speed.

"Worms!" he screams. "Cool it!" Below, the sounds of fighting fade into murmurs first of confusion, then of dismay, barely audible over the fooossssssh of foam.

"You can turn it off, Alvey," Enzo calls. The foam-noise dies.

"Johnny!" cries one of the female binomes from below. Enzo ignores her.

"We've beat you once," he declares loud enough for all to hear, "and we can do it again if we have to. So you're gonna stop picking on us, or any other kids. Right?" He gives Johnny his best Matrix glare and hopes to his code's main function that the older boy won't call his bluff.

Johnny glares back, but Enzo can see the fear under it... or maybe he's just flattering himself. But it must be there somewhere, because after a nano, Johnny hisses, "Right."

"So they can hear you."

"I said yes!" shouts Johnny, the dull brown of his face brightening with humiliation.

The gang's other leader screeches furiously from below. "Johnny, you...!"

"Shut up, Roxie!" Johnny yells back desperately.

"Good." The boogie baud lowers gently to about four pixels up, then tips forward so Johnny slides off and falls heavily to the ground.

The 0 girl who shouted before scrambles to his side, slipping in the foam, and clutches at his arm while glaring venemously up at Enzo. Johnny groans a bit but levers himself to a sitting position. "I'm okay, Marie," he says, putting an arm around her.

"Now you're all gonna go home, and we're going back to the Academy," Enzo proclaims. "Is everyone fully functional?"

"Bruised," Caret declares. "Sore. Mostly fine."

"I-I'm okay!" calls Alvey's voice from inside the dumpster.

Condela moans. "I think she gave me a black eye," she says, prodding gingerly at her face. "How'm I supposed to hide that?"

"Oh, you don't need to be worryin' about that, lass."

All twelve children wheel to face the new voice. Several uniformed binomes are standing in the various entrances to the alley.

"If you're wantin' to keep secrets," continues the bushy-moustached 0 who appears to be in charge, "you should think of that before you start shoutin' 'em over the rooftops. Andy, Fred, Cheryl, bring the CPUs around. I think these youngsters'll be wantin' an escort." His expression makes it clear that what they want does not in fact enter into it.

Enzo's stomach sinks. So much for not getting in trouble.

Oof. Enzo staggers out of the lift. Thank code Physical Fitness is his last period.

He stares wearily at the door to his dorm room. Hanging from the knob is a length of brightly-insulated wire.

When you go away to school, you learn some things you never anticipated. Like doorknob-code. The older roomies briefed Enzo fairly early on as to the proper procedure.

He cocks his head and listens. There are some banging and scraping noises inside the room, but no loud FOOOOOSH. Good. He knocks twice, loudly, and opens the door.

Hugh is just pushing his safety goggles up onto his forehead. "Hey, Enzo. Lend a hand?"

Enzo obligingly tromps over and examines the assorted bits of metal held in an array of vises. "What's this one gonna be?"

"A foam generator. Here, help me get this bit into alignment."

Enzo shoves metal as instructed. "What can they use that for?" The only reason Hugh gets away with as much as he does, he's explained before, is because most of the devices he builds can be repurposed into stuff that's actually useful.

"Couple it to a good delivery system, it'll be good for firefighting, or the cops can use it for riot control." Hugh tightens a clamp and directs Enzo to the next bit.

"So what're you gonna do with it?"

Hugh grins. "Got an accomplice up on F. Haul 'er to the top floor, see how far down the foam reaches before they can find it and shut it off. Balun's making book, if you're interested."

Enzo laughs, and pushes something into better alignment, and releases it, rubbing his arms. "Sorry, I'm tired from Fitness. Coach Hardlink's started making stuff harder, and I have to keep up with everyone else in the class, and..."

"Hey, no worries. You're doing well for your age. And the harder you work, the faster you'll upgrade." He bends down and pokes at Enzo's upper arm. "You're probably gonna gain a strength level in your arms soon."

"Sweet!" Enzo automatically flexes an arm and twists it around to peer at it, but of course there's no visual sign yet of the accumulated exp.

"Speaking of upgrades, Balun and I just finished the latest round of improvements to Beatrice. We're gonna try her out tonight; you wanna come?"

"That'd be supercooled! But I've got homework..."

"You oughta be done with it by the time we go. The movie's not 'til late." Hugh pulls his goggles back down and picks up his welding torch. "Eyes!" Enzo obediently squinches his eyes shut and covers them with his hands.

FOOOOOSH

* * * * * *
The movie is not 'til very late indeed. This is unlikely to help with Enzo's exhaustion, but it's worth spending a day tired to go cruising in Beatrice.

Balun doesn't get to have official vehicle training until next term. His parents, however, know that if he has to wait any longer after that to get a good vehicle, he's like to explode. Thus, his father sent him an old junker a while back, with the idea that by the time he's allowed to drive the thing, he ought to have her fixed up enough that she can be driven.

Strictly speaking, she's reached that point already. Since he can't yet himself, Balun lets Hugh drive her pro tem in exchange for his mechanical expertise. Beatrice is now a perfectly functional, enormous beast of a convertible, painted seafoam green to match her owner's hair, with enough fins extending from top and sides that her classification as 'car' or 'ship' is open to debate. While her exterior is classic enough to set Bob to drooling, her guts are being upgraded to modern, high-performance parts as quickly as a cadet's limited funds will permit.

"She really needs a new motherboard," Balun remarks, talking over his shoulder from shotgun. "I mean, she rides smooth enough now that we've replaced all the bad capacitors, but she's still running on Overdrive and that just ain't enough."

Enzo, Caret, Value and Tone, all stuffed into the backseat, are competing to lean out over the doors - Enzo and Caret to see the sights, Tone to be as visible as possible riding in such a cool car, and Val to attempt to spit onto pedestrians. "Tab it, I almost got that one! Quit shoving!"

"She's coming along really nice," Tone tells Balun. She gazes forward past him, speculatively. "You think I could try hood-surfing?"

"While I'm generally in favour of pointless stunts," Hugh informs her before Balun can respond, "maybe a main drag isn't the best place for it?"

"Awww..." grins Tone. "But it'll grab so much attention for the car..."

Balun grins back at her. "You really need to meet my Ma. She'd totally dig you."

Tone stares at him, blinking, then blushes and turns her gaze to one of Beatrice's many fins. "Yeah. I'd like to, someday."

Hugh drives the behemoth through several subsystems - traffic's light, this time of cycle - into a partition with considerably sparser buildings, then pulls into a side lane and away from the buildings entirely. This area reminds Enzo a bit of Floating Point, only bigger. They cruise slowly over an expanse of field, past a data stream and a stand of trees, and arrive at what appears to be a parking lot without the lot. Dozens of cars, bikes, ships, a few kids in aircarts, and even the occasional zipboard-chair, all parked facing an enormous vidwindow. A sign on the outskirts proclaims:

DELL VALLEY DRIVE-IN THEATRE
THIS CYCLE: SOME LIKE IT HOT-SWAPPED

The movie is pseudo-old-fashioned and awfully funny. The girls and Balun sit on the hood, soaking up the residual energy from the engine; Hugh circulates, chatting with locals he knows, and Caret has wandered off to search the other cars' grilles for interesting insects. Enzo hovers on his boogie baud to get an unobstructed view (though he's probably obstructing a few other people's), and, round about the point where Tony Cursor and Jack Lemma accidentally witness a viral 'disciplinary action', decides to hit the small concession stand he saw on the way in.

"Bring me a push-and-popcorn."

"Make that a large, we can share."

"And a Surge."

"And a hotlink."

"And a code cola."

"Two code colas."

"And one duck egg."

"What?"

Enzo weaves between the cars, suspecting that he may have to use his baud as a tray on the way back. Most of his attention is still on the screen, where the two binomes have decided to evade viral vengeance by disguising themselves as women and joining an all-female traveling band, until he's startled back to virtual reality by an unpleasantly familiar voice saying, "Looks like someone's out past their bedtime."

Oh no, not again... Enzo squeezes his eyes shut and is opening his mouth to speak when another, even more familiar voice speaks: "What's it to you?" His eyes fly open and he turns to look.

It appears as though Enzo and his friends will not be the only ones sneaking in after curfew tonight. Sitting in a very pretty (if excessively girly) aircart a short distance away are his classmates and hallmates, Esim and Condela. Not his favourite people in the 'Net, mostly because they've made it abundantly clear that he's not theirs, either.

Standing around the aircart are seven older kids; they're facing away from him, for which he is exceedingly thankful, but he recognizes the matching leather jackets with WORMS spelled out on the backs in studs. They're also hiding him from his classmates' view, at least for now; he takes the opportunity to go crouch behind a car, earning puzzled looks from its occupants.

"Guardians are our protectors," comes a girl's nasal voice a bit too sweetly. "You're all about law and order, ain'tcha? We wouldn't want to think you was breaking the rules."

"That'd just about bring down civilization," agrees another.

"Look, we just want - hey!" exclaims Condela. "Will you get off? I just cleaned this!"

Enzo lifts from his crouch enough to peer over the car. "Can we help you?" inquires the lady in the front passenger seat. Enzo waves her into silence.

The gang's lead girl is sitting on the aircart's hood. She runs one satin-pink hand along the glittery purple surface. "Oh, but I look so nice on it, don't you think?" She shifts to lie on her side like a pin-up model. "Anyone bring a camera?" The binomes all feign dismay at having neglected to do so.

"This is a fine little machine," declares the male sprite. "Paint her yourself?" he adds disparagingly.

"I built it myself!" Condela snaps, tossing her hair. "So digits off - agh!" she cries as the boy hawks and spits onto the fender. "Quit file!"

Enzo watches the scene unfold with mounting glee. The Worms are still utter creeps and he wishes there were some way for him to retaliate for their earlier treatment of Alvey and him... but as long as they're still around and acting like this, there are far worse targets they could have chosen than those two dipswitches.

He'd stop them if he could, of course. But there's nothing he can do without getting in trouble, right? And they're still not technically harming anyone, right? And even if they were, Esim and Condela are older than him and would put up a better fight, right?

(As long as he keeps telling himself that, he can almost get his Guardian code to stop pinging him.)

"Kid, please..." says the man occupying the driver's seat of Enzo's hiding place. "We're trying to watch the movie, and you're... kind of distracting. Could you please change directory?"

"Hm...? Oh!" Enzo says, tearing his eyes from the tableau. Come to think of it, he does want to watch the movie too - fortunately, he hasn't missed much, the heroes are just meeting Marilyn Monochrome's character. And the others will be waiting for their snacks. "Sorry," he tells the car's occupants, and crawls away between the cars until he's probably far enough away not to be spotted. Then he stands up and saunters casually off toward the concession stand.