Ray was typing rapidly, the fingers of her avatar moving over the virtual keyboard that only she could see.<span style="font-family: 'Courier New'"><i>I've got a trace on.... OH!</i></span>She blinked in astonishment at the data displayed to her, coming to the same conclusion as Renne.<span style="font-family: 'Courier New'"><i>Whoever that is is ghosting. Well two can play at that game. Renne, remove the single account per IP lock-out. Just remember to put it back when we're done, okay?</i></span>As soon as she saw the lockout go down, Ray pounced. She'd written the code as fast as she could, but it worked. Suddenly she had an account set up for every location the winged horse was displaying at, an was bouncing from one to another. As she arrived consciously in each location, the Pegasus/Jasper ghost at that place collapsed, because she could verify personally that they weren't there.<br/><br/>She didn't really expect to get lucky quite so quickly as she did. The ghosting was spawning more and more possibilities and for every one she took down three sprang up to replace it. She ignored the newer ones for now, concentrating instead on the first hundred or so. She almost missed it: The flicker of an IP address jumping out of a location just as she jumped in. But it was what she was looking for and she grabbed it before it could be wiped, ran a back trace. "Got you you ba.... OH! Oh fuck!"<br/><br/>A message appeared on Renne's Screen, in a pop-up window.<br/><div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'"><b>ramill-sys is requesting private chat. Accept? Y/N</b></span>​</div><br/>It was possible to read a private chat conversation, but only if you knew when it had taken place and one of the individuals in it. And then only if neither of those individuals was a Sys-Admin who had deleted the log file. Which was exactly what Ray planned to do. Renne accepted and Ray typed quickly.<br/><div style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'"><b>I have the IP of the person who has her, and you are not going to like this: It's right where you are. </b><br/>
<b>So either you have her and are playing me for a fool, or someone else in your location is logged in.</b></span>​</div><br/>Renne would need to check every terminal in that building...!<br/><br/>----------------------<br/><br/>The Winged horse was skipping from place to place, leaving ghost images behind it, and projecting ghost images ahead of it and around it. The sys-ad would never catch it now. When there were something like a thousand ghosts, scattered across the Game, the winged horse paused. It had declined to answer the Lady's questions earlier, but now it felt more secure. Even the rather inane ploy of creating herself multiple accounts would avail her not. One time she almost got lucky, but the horse was gone even as the pursuer was arriving. It alighted on a mountain top and knelt, allowing the lady to dismount. "My Lady, I cannot stop calling you that, for you are my creator. You are the god of the gods, and the gods of the game are waiting to meet you."<br/><br/>It tossed it's head, golden mane glittering in the brilliant light that seemed to be coming from atop the next mountain over. A golden rope bridge of the sort that gets the ropes cut on the way out in adventure movies, but a lot more expensive, appeared to traverse the gap between the small plateau where they stood and the other mountain top. The horse changed shape, becoming a tall man, white and gold, and dressed in a Greek style robe. "I am Hermes, The Entry Level. The others are awaiting you. They could not enter my domain any more than I could enter theirs, but here, on Olympus, we all meet."<br/><br/>Hermes indicated the flimsy looking bridge. "Please, I will be right behind you. I assure you it is safe..."