Sterling waited for her in his office. She sat without being asked, too tired to care whether he wanted her to sit there or not. He didn’t flinch.

“So far, I could not get the CIA lab to tell me how the hoverboard operates. We know there was a vent, but it was not enough propulsion to hold itself up, much less a rider. So maybe a combination of things, like magnets?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “You’re right, there wasn’t much air, and more came from the top than the bottom. Seemed like it was more of a fan than a support.”

“A fan? You might very well be right. Computers use fans to cool their systems. Perhaps the air being released is part of the coolant system.”

“It did seem awfully stable,” she said. “Smoother than a car—very few bumps. The turns were hard to navigate. It almost slipped on the turns. Like a kayak--it felt like it was going to flip over.”

Sterling seemed like the best person to ask. “I wondered what the hoverboards would be used for? Why does everyone want them?”

“There is admittedly quite a bit of competition to be the first with certain tech. The hover technology could be used not only in commercial projects, but in also for covert operations like avoiding sensitive pressure floors, laser defense systems, traversing water, and sneaking without being detected. We might not be able to do all those things with it yet, but it seems like a pretty workable model, as you found out. It did not have a lot of sound and suggested adequate speed, as you discovered. We’re still not sure about the altitude.”

“What about the students that developed it?”

He rubbed his face. “Dead. One died in the extraction.” He swallowed. “P-parts of the other were found. Their notes are gone. We are not just looking for the boards themselves, but the technical documents. We think that the students must have been near completion. Or maybe they felt they could do better with the documents and took them to their own scientists.”

Arena’s throat closed, and she sat white-knuckled on the chair, much like her initial meeting with Nate. She reminded herself to take deep breaths through her nose. “Are these boards so valuable that people kill others to get them?” It seemed like a neat invention, but not a miracle.

Sterling’s expression softened. “Who knows why people do the things they do just to get a little more ahead, if at all? Unfortunately, most of our job as technology recovery revolves around situations such as these. I wish we could be more proactive, but most of the time when chatter goes up, it’s right before detonation.” He turned fully toward her. “The hoverboard is a minor problem, though. The real question is who is the other group trying to acquire it? They are the priority over retrieving the hoverboards, but as we are going for the same piece of technology, it stands to reason we will meet them again through the process of finding the remaining hoverboards.”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Arena looked at her hands. This was so much more complicated than she realized.

“You are also meeting with me tonight to discuss basic analysis for our missions,” he said, pushing a button on the keyboard. The screens began to show a grainy video of a man meeting with another.

His deep voice rumbled over the images on the screen. “Many missions involve getting the trust of someone already involved in the group in which we are investigating. We also investigate physical information ourselves, but we find that information in many different ways.” Sterling brought up a picture of Facebook, and turned to her with a smirk. “Recognize this? You’d think people would use more secretive means, but the sheer amount of information that goes through social networking sites means that it’s really hard to find who is saying what. We caught one group who liked to leave coded messages in netspeak to each other, disguised at fifteen-year-old students. Who knew a school dance could be a code for a drop point?” Then Sterling did something rather surprising--he grinned widely. “Well, I did.”

“See, a lot of groups like to use things that don’t hint of encryption. Put some heavy locks and curtains on something and everybody is going to know it’s worth. It’s a giant billboard screaming ‘Hack Me!’ Put it out in the open and people don’t look at it twice.”

He pulled up an image of a popular multiplayer video game. “This is what we like to use. We’ve got a guild and everything. You can play on the side if you like. We use the guild notice board to leave messages to one another. Works quite well, and with 200 other guilds on the server, nobody regards our small guild of middling characters. It’s more fun than leaving notes in some classified listing, like the old-school spies used to do. Here’s a list of the codes we use.” He pushed a flash drive toward her. “Memorize them tonight, because there’s a virus in it that will eat it up by tomorrow.”

He tossed her a smartphone. “The game is called ‘Absolute Imperium’. It should have an icon, and I already set up your account. You just have to sign in and create a character. I’ll find you and give you an invite to our guild. Your handheld is linked to mine and to Anita’s so we will know everything you do with it and where it is at all times.” Arena wasn’t sure if that was a warning or a reassurance. Probably both.

Arena was familiar with the game, since she had a former roommate that played it obsessively. Arena always wondered how she managed to keep her grades up while playing. The roommate had explained the game on occasion, and even made a character for Arena, but Arena preferred to study instead.

“Do you have any questions?” Sterling asked.

“Isn’t it hard to play on a computer this small?” Arena examined the handheld.

“We’ve made a few modifications on to make the controls smoother. You can just tilt it to move. And it is voice--enabled, so to leave a message or chat, just press that side button and talk. You can whisper. It’s pretty sensitive. Anita and I tried to make the game as friendly to the use of the handhelds as possible.” He typed into his keyboard and brought up a desktop screen. A new icon popped into existence on it. “Your netbook should have an icon for it now.”

Before she realized it, she thanked him. Then she thought of another question, “How will I know who everyone is in the game?”

“I have a feeling you will figure it out pretty fast,” he said. “If you don’t, well, you could always try asking them out of the game.” Suddenly, flickers of suspicion crossed his face. Arena was afraid that they were back to the way it had been. He waved her out without another word.