"That stick does not smell," Ashley had said. "And it's not even pine."

"It's not a literal smell," Diana had tried to explain. To say it was Daniel's essence sounded crazy. "It's more of a feeling. It's Daniel."

"It's you," Ashley had said. "And maybe his ghost in your own head. Your phantom limb."

That spring, around the time when Ashley had correctly predicted that the snow bells would be blooming in Diana's backyard, hikers near the spot where Daniel disappeared found remains, picked over by scavengers, and an orange ski jacket. Jake traveled to Switzerland to bring Daniel back, but all he'd returned with were his ashes in a bra.s.s urn. When Diana had held it in her hands, she felt absolutely nothing.

"See?" Ashley had said. "He's really and truly gone."

It was at that point that she'd surrendered.

In Switzerland, Jake had obtained doc.u.ments that enabled Daniel to be declared legally dead. He'd convinced Diana to invest the life insurance settlement-all of the one million dollars-in the business that they'd been planning to start when they returned from Switzerland. She knew that helping her was Jake's way of dealing with the guilt he felt about Daniel-after all, Jake had been the one anchoring the rope.

The ding on her computer brought Diana back to the present. A chat window had opened.

GROB: U there?

This time, the interruption was welcome. A moment later he added: GROB: I want to show you something. Meet me? 1329, 4655.

She stared at the coordinates, as if between the numbers or within the pattern she'd glean meaning. Was it safe? She'd learned the hard way about transporting to untested coordinates. Parts of OtherWorld were infested with willfully antisocial players who got pleasure from annoying everyone else. She'd once arrived at what she thought was a business meeting with a new client and found herself trapped in a combat sim. A cylindrical cage had dropped over her avatar. An avatar troll had appeared, knocked the cage over, and started rolling it down a hill and into a lake with Nadia trapped inside.

Diana had known it wasn't real, just "cartoon characters," as Ashley put it, but she'd been thoroughly freaked. Her heart had flipped into high gear and she couldn't catch her breath as Nadia's health meter plummeted and her body grew increasingly transparent.

It was an experience Diana had no desire to repeat, even though after "death" Nadia had simply transported home, where her "life" resumed as if it had never been terminated.

GROB: Come on. I won't bite.

She could hear Ashley's words: Sweetie, don't you think it's time you let someone in? Diana copied the new coordinates into OtherWorld's atlas. No, the area was not damage enabled. No complaints had been logged. She clicked and brought up a map showing the area surrounding those coordinates. A single yellow dot indicated that an avatar was already there. Just one. GROB was waiting for her.

Diana slipped on her headphones and transported Nadia. A bell sounded, and sand-colored dunes materialized around her. She touched an arrow key and Nadia started to walk up the gentle slope toward the other avatar, her legs sinking knee-deep into virtual sand with each step.

GROB was facing away from her. He wore a light gray cowboy hat, jeans, and black high-tops with white soles. His dark wavy hair came down to his shoulders. As she came up behind him, she could see the view he was taking in. Waves breaking and water extending to the horizon.

He turned, raised an arm, and waved. Beneath the brim of his Stetson, his mirrored sungla.s.ses reflected back Nadia's image. That must have been a bear to program. He was handsome as h.e.l.l, square-jawed and muscular. Diana wondered if this avatar bore even a pa.s.sing resemblance to the person behind it.

Diana typed wave/ and Nadia raised her arm.

A voice balloon appeared over GROB's head. "You came." The voice that came through her earpiece sounded synthesized.

Diana angled the view, taking in the deserted beach dotted with coconut palms. "Wow. Where are we?"

"Ever been to Hawaii?"

"Never."

"We're on the Big Island. And over there?" GROB turned and pointed.

Diana angled the view 180 degrees. Behind them was the outline of a mountain range, not jagged like the Alps but gently rising and soft, as if its peaks had been sketched with pastel chalk.

"That big one?" GROB said. "That's Mauna Kea. Its name means 'white mountain.' It's got permafrost and snow all year-round. Just an hour-and-a-half drive from this beach. But we can get there much faster. Take my hand."

GROB held out his hand to Nadia. Diana's hand spasmed into a fist. He wanted her to link Nadia to him. That gave him control over where they went.

Nadia is not me, Diana reminded herself. Avatars were impervious. They couldn't get mangled by outside forces. All she had to do was shut down OtherWorld if things got hairy, and when she brought it up again Nadia would be home again, no worse for the wear.

Diana forced her hand open and typed in the command link/. Nadia's hand grasped GROB's. When he rose up into the air, she flew beside him, soaring out over the ocean and then back over the beach and on toward the mountain range.

Diana felt breathless. She made Nadia point to a pair of nearby peaks, one twice the size of its neighbor, each with gently sloping cone-shaped sides and a dimpled depression at the tip. She loved mountains, and here were peaks as distinctive and yet so different from the imperious majesty of the Eiger or the Grand Tetons. She felt stirring in her an urge she'd nearly forgotten-she wanted to go there.

"Cinder cones," GROB said. "Wouldn't it be cool to walk out to the rim of that big one on a moonless night, to stay there until sunrise watching the stars? Too bad you can't do it. Native Hawaiians consider the place sacred."

They flew back to the beach and their two avatars walked hand in hand, side by side along the water's edge, their virtual feet leaving behind a trail of prints that washed away as each new wave lapped the sh.o.r.e. Diana told him about some of the places she'd hiked. Death Valley, in December, one of the most spectacular and spiritual spots in the universe. New Hampshire's White Mountains in May-that had been three years ago-when a snowstorm nearly buried their tent in snow. But icefall climbing, she told him, was the most magical of all.

Surfing was more his thing, he said. That and nature. He told her about camping at a remote nature preserve in Costa Rica accessible only by boat. There, where the jungle ended at a white sand beach, the howling of monkeys and a symphony of birds woke him each morning.

They talked on and on. She told him about her sister "Susannah," a name she invented on the spot for Ashley. It felt good to admit, out loud, how worried she was. Ashley's absence was gnawing at her.

GROB told her about his brother, Tom, a recovered alcoholic who couldn't hold a job. GROB was the only anchor in his brother's chaotic life.

"I'm sorry. That must be hard for you," Diana said. "My sister's annoying. But truly, she's totally there for me. Except when there's a man in the picture or when she's convinced that she's deathly ill."

GROB laughed. "Hypochondriac?"

"And then some. We couldn't be more different. Her favorite color was pink; mine was red." Diana told him about the pictures in their family photo alb.u.m from a typical Halloween-her blond sister posing in a leotard, pink tutu, and feather boa; dark-haired Diana, two years older and all knees and elbows, wearing a red cape she'd made out of one of their mother's old c.o.c.ktail dresses, red tights, a leotard, construction-paper horns on her head, and a garden pitchfork clasped in her hand.

"Believe it or not, when I was little I was fearless," she said. "I jumped off our garage roof one time on a dare. Sprained my ankle. A month later I did it again, this time without a scratch. Then I started charging kids in the neighborhood to watch. Earned enough to buy myself a Game Boy. Ash . . . uh, Susannah stood sentry and whistled if my mother was on her way out to investigate."

"Sounds like you two were quite a pair."

"Oil and water."

"Siblings," he said. "Definition: two people who run in opposite directions and end up crashing into each other."

Diana laughed. GROB sat on the beach. Nadia sat beside him. She unlinked Nadia's hand from GROB's, and the two avatars just sat there in a long silence that neither of them rushed to fill.

Finally, Diana said, "Thanks for telling me about yourself. And for sharing this special place."

"Special," he said, "and sad."

"Sad?"

"Yes . . . no."

"I'm sorry. Do you want to talk about it?"

"Maybe one day. But not here. If we ever meet . . . in the real world. I hope we do."

Diana stared out at the virtual ocean, wondering if she'd ever sit on the sand on a real beach and gaze out at the horizon separating sea from sky. In the real world, waves were irregular and unpredictable, not like these waves that unfurled as regularly as wallpaper patterns. Predictability. That was this virtual world's greatest strength and greatest weakness.

Suddenly little eddies seemed to be forming in the sand in front of them. The swirling patterns grew, and grew, until the entire beach heaved and boiled.

"Oh, s.h.i.t," said GROB.

Instinctively Diana grabbed her chair arms and pushed back. A downward whirling vortex grew in the sand, and up from its depths shot an avatar clad head to toe in gleaming battle armor.

"This is what you wanted to show me?" Diana managed to say.

"h.e.l.l, no!" In an instant, GROB was standing over Nadia, planted between her and the armored avatar that hovered over them. It raised its arm and an avalanche of blue phalluses fell from the sky and seemed to bounce off a barrier, like an invisible bubble surrounding her and GROB.

Flying phalluses. Soon there'd be tumbling toasters. It was completely ridiculous-Diana realized that. But still she felt a.s.saulted, and when she tried to move Nadia and found she couldn't, she started to panic. She smashed down on the mouse, clicking over and over as she grew short of breath. She should never have come here.

"Take it easy," GROB said. "They can't hurt you,"

It took three tries before Diana typed /home correctly into the transporter, but Nadia simply disappeared and reappeared right where she was. She typed in random coordinates. Once again, Nadia faded and came back. Diana clicked all over the screen, trying in vain to get a menu to come up so she could get out of there.

Two more armored avatars circled overhead "a.s.sholes!" GROB said. "I hate this. Jesus, don't these people have anything better to do?"

More blue phalluses rained down around them, bouncing off the invisible barrier that she a.s.sumed GROB had created. Diana reared back each time one of the freakish objects splashed into the water or crashed into the sand and exploded.

Her hand shaking, Diana reached for her computer's power switch. It was the only way she could think of to make it stop.

She could barely hear GROB's voice over the sound effects. "I'm sorry . . . never should have . . . let's get . . ." GROB extended his hand toward Nadia. "Let's go now!"

Diana recoiled, standing and knocking over her desk chair. Was there anywhere safe? She had to turn the computer off. Press the power switch and hold it down until the system surrendered.

"Come on!" GROB moved closer to Nadia, his hand overlapping hers. For the moment, at least, the explosions had stopped. "I can get us out of here. Trust me."

Could she trust anyone? Her breath came in gasps as she steadied herself against the desk and stared at the monitor.

"Give me your hand!" GROB said.

It felt as if the sound still echoed as the empty voice balloon over GROB's head faded and disappeared.

She reached for the keyboard and watched her fingers as they typed link/, almost as if someone else were in control of them. Why would that work when nothing else she'd typed had made a difference? But Nadia's hand connected with GROB's, and instantly new surroundings materialized around them-the ocean and beach littered with phalluses became an old-fashioned town green with a pergola and trees.

With a click Diana had Nadia release GROB's hand and she could breathe again.

"I'm sorry," GROB said. "I'm so sorry. Did that freak you out? I thought it was safe to go there, but OtherWorld has become infested with griefers."

"I know," Diana said, wiping a skim of sweat from her upper lip. "I've run into them before."

"I shouldn't have taken you there. Are you okay? I'm really, really sorry."

"I'm okay," Diana said, even though she wasn't. "I have to go."

There was a pause. "Okay, okay. I understand. Can I see you again?"

Diana didn't answer. She could still feel lingering shock waves from the explosions.

"We might be safer in the real world," GROB said with a laugh.

"If only," Diana said. She watched the clock in the corner of her screen pulsing, pulsing, like a tiny beating heart until the minute was updated. "I really have to go." She clicked in the transporter window.

"Wait! Listen, if your sister doesn't show up soon, I might be able to help. I have connections."

That stopped her. "You don't think she's going to show up?"

"Me? You sounded worried that she wouldn't."

Diana had to admit, she was worried. "What kind of connections?"

"Access. I can check hospitals. Jails. Pa.s.senger lists of transatlantic flights. Reservations at fancy restaurants. Parking tickets. All I need is your sister's real name, DOB, stuff like that, and I'm on it."

REAL name? Alarms went off in Diana's head. Suddenly she was acutely aware that GROB's voice was synthesized. "I . . ." She managed a weak, "I'll let you know."

Before he could respond, she transported Nadia home.

Diana sat at her desk, still shaking, feeling as if someone had reached out in a dark alley, clamped his icy grip around her bare shoulder, slammed her against a wall, and pinned her there. She knew the griefers weren't his fault. And his a.s.sumption that she'd used a fake name for her sister was just common sense. The guy was just trying to help. But Ashley had said she'd be back to get her computer during the weekend, and the weekend wasn't yet over.

She pulled over Daniel's walking stick and cradled it in her arms. Eyes closed, she concentrated on her breathing. In, out. In, out. Moving the inhalations deeper and deeper, feeling as if healing pine resin, Daniel's essence, were flowing off the walking stick and coating her throat, being drawn deep into her lungs and opening the tiniest alveoli. Her breathing slowed.

Being with GROB, or whatever his name was, sc.r.a.ped up memories, not to mention sensations that Diana thought had been smothered. The good news was that she could still feel.

Chapter Eleven.

By Monday morning, Diana was acutely aware that the weekend was over. It was barely ten and her in-box was full of messages from Jake that she'd left unanswered but not even a text message from Ashley. Diana was still shaken by her adventure with GROB in OtherWorld, and far too distracted to work. Her morning pill was barely calming the gremlins in the pit of her stomach. Ashley should have been at work, and it seemed unfathomable that she hadn't bothered to come by and pick up her laptop. Equally unfathomable that she hadn't answered her e-mail.

Diana called Ashley's office extension at International Palm Court Hotels headquarters. The line rang five times before the call went to voice mail. Diana pressed zero. An operator picked up.

"h.e.l.lo, I'm looking for Ashley Highsmith," Diana told her. "I tried her office, but there's no answer."

The operator put her on hold to strains of Vivaldi, then came back and gave her what Diana knew was Ashley's cell-phone number. "Or I can leave a message for you," the operator offered.

"So you haven't seen her today?" Diana asked.

"I'm sorry. Who were you looking for?"

Earth to operator. It was all Diana could do not to shout. "Ashley Highsmith? Your event planner?" She took a breath. "She's doing such a great job, helping us plan for our big annual meeting there. So calm and competent. I had a question. It was a little complicated to leave as a message, so I was hoping you could tell me if she's there and if you could find out when she can get back to me?"

"Of course. Highsmith, Ashley," said the ever-polite voice. "I'll put you through to her extension."