EPILOGUE

The celebration at Dot's Diner was just getting started when Bob and Dot walked in. A large bottle of champagne was chilling in a silver bucket on the counter, and Cecil was carrying a tray of flutes. He spotted his employer and immediately sped over to offer her a glass of bubbly.

"Thank you, Cecil," Dot said, taking two flutes and handing one to Bob. "Whose idea was champagne?"

"Mine," AndrAIa chimed. "I may not be able to indulge, but I got the distinct impression we needed something stronger than energy shakes after this one."

"So where's my drink?" Enzo said.

Everyone present eyed the teenager with the sort of paternal skepticism only adults were capable of.

"Not even a sip?" Enzo whined.

"What do you think, dad?" asked Dot, a note of amusement in her voice.

"I suppose a little sip wouldn't hurt," Professor Matrix said.

Enzo's face lit up.

"A sip, mister," the professor emphasized.

Reluctantly, Cecil handed a glass of champagne to the young sprite. "Try not to get wasted," whispered the French server.

The Diner was empty except for the War Room staff, Dot having reserved the restaurant exclusively for their purposes. Matrix looked at his champagne with mild contempt, probably wishing it was something stronger like Rom or I/O. AndrAIa was by his side, as usual, sitting on a barstool with an energy shake in one hand and absentmindedly rubbing her pregnant tummy with the other. Welman held his glass expectantly, as if waiting for someone to make a toast. Even Phong had chosen to leave the Principal Office, a rare event, to join his friends and family. Kevin Sawyer sat on the stool next to AndrAIa, his champagne fizzing away on the bar. His smile was jovial as he made idle conversation with Enzo.

Two best friends sharing a drink after an adventure, Dot thought, and she smiled.

"What shall we drink to?" Phong asked.

"I know," Enzo said suddenly. He raised his glass. "Here's to kicking Tin Butt's bitmap for a third time."

There was a round of "Here here," and everyone clinked glasses and took a sip.

Dot stepped close to Bob and felt his arm snake around her waist. "I'm not sure this is the best time to make an announcement," Dot said, "but—"

"You're getting married!" AndrAIa blurted, her expression excited and expectant.

All eyes were on Bob and Dot. They looked at one another and then nodded at the group, all smiles.

"I knew it!" AndrAIa squealed.

"Congratulations!" Kevin said. "It's about time, if you ask me."

"I'll drink to that," Enzo said, raising his champagne glass to take another drink.

AndrAIa quickly snatched the flute out of his hand. "Nice try, slick," AndrAIa said. She handed him her energy shake. "You get the kid friendly stuff from here on."

"Aw, man," he mumbled, rolling his eyes.

Welman stepped up and embraced his daughter. "I'm so happy for you, princess," he said. "And for you, young man," he added, shaking Bob's hand.

"Here's to Mainframe's number one couple," Matrix said, raising his champagne glass.

There was another round of clinking glasses and laughter. Almost no one noticed when the stranger walked into the diner.

But Cecil noticed. "Madame, I am afraid zis establishment is closed for a private engagement."

"Sorry to crash the party, Cecil," she replied, "but I've really gotta talk to Dot."

Hearing her name dropped, Dot turned to confront the stranger. She appeared to be a little older than Dot herself, and she was very beautiful. Her strawberry red hair was tied into a ponytail that hung down to the center of her back, and bangs covered her forehead. She had a smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose, which was small and slightly upturned. Her eyes were the color of faded blue jean, but they stood out against the color of her skin, which was pale and flawless apart from the freckles on her face.

The stranger's clothing skin was a one-piece suit of body armor consisting of different shades of purple with silver plating around the abdomen, knees, shoulders, and elbows. Much like Dot's own tactical clothing skin, it looked like it was designed to be both functional and comfortable.

"Can I help you?" Dot asked.

"This is going to sound crazy," the stranger said. "I know you, but you don't know me. My name is—"

There was a sound of glass shattering against the floor, and everyone turned to find that Kevin had dropped his champagne. The cybernaut was on his feet, his jaw slack, eyes wide in disbelief. All the color had drained from his face.

"It can't be," he muttered. His eyes were glued to the face of the stranger.

"What's the matter?" asked Bob.

Kevin stepped closer, his movements clunky, like his body was having trouble following commands from his brain.

"Jess?" he said. His voice was hoarse, weak, and there was an undercurrent of desperation in it. "Jessie?"

The stranger examined his face, eyes narrow, as if she were trying to recognize a face she had once known. Then her face became ashen and she stepped back, struck, it appeared, by her own recollection, and her face transformed into a mask of weeping sadness.

"Kevin."

Kevin rushed to catch her. He was in motion even before the others realized she was fainting. He caught the stranger in his arms, cradling her as she collapsed.

"It's impossible," Kevin said as he took a closer look at her face. "It can't be—"

Then he laid his hands upon the RAMM device handing from a loop on her belt. It was blackened, charred, and clearly nonfunctional.

"Oh, my God," he said.

"What is it, Kevin?" Dot asked. "You act like you know her."

"I do know her," he said, and again, his voice was hollow. "She's Jessica Sawyer. My wife."

Author's Post Script

Well, folks, that's the end of the latest installment of The Virtual Man adventures. I hope you all enjoyed the journey as much as I did. There will be another installment, but I can't say for sure when I'll get around to writing it. I finish college next spring, and I'm also writing a series of original time travel stories which I hope to publish as a compendium someday. I'd like to thank everyone who commented on The Parallel Crossing. It's always nice to be complimented on a creative work like this. Stay frosty, my friends.