by Larry Niven
“Asako… where are you?”
“In position. My pod is linked into the surface computer system, and I can input the code as soon as Kendra gives it to me.”
“Do you hear that, Scotty? Everyone’s in place. But the codes have to be entered within sixty seconds of each other, so that no one or two people can possibly override. Do you hear me?”
Scotty’s voice choked. “I hear you. But I can’t do it. If I open my eyes, it feels as if I’m falling. Falling.” Despair.
“Scotty,” she said. “Listen to me. Why did you come back to the Moon?”
“I had a damned job, Kendra.”
“No. That’s not it, and you know it. You came back because you loved it here. You came back because you love me.”
A deep intake of breath. “Kendra…”
Her focus had contracted to a point. They might have been alone in that room. “Scotty. We knew from the first weekend together. I knew.”
“Don’t do this. Not with…”
“What? Everyone listening? I’m not embarrassed. I love you, Scotty. I’ve missed you every night we weren’t together in my-”
“Good Lord, woman!”
She managed a throaty chuckle. Now she had his attention. “What? How personal do you want me to be? Remember the last night before you left, when I finally let you take-”
“Dammit!” he yelped. But he was laughing and maybe crying now.
“Scotty,” she said. “Open your heart to me. Lean on me, just a little, now. There are just a few things that you have to do, and it’s over.”
“But, what if I can’t…”
Darla was moving into position atop the dome, climbing one ladder rung at a time, her voice rasping in her ears. She opened the control box.
Halfway through the process she stopped, gazing out at the lunar landscape, momentarily overwhelmed with its unweathered beauty. Then she returned to the work, moving clear chunks of plastic from one box to another. She used her tool to unscrew a box, and tapped in a series of codes.
“Here we go,” she said.
Celeste found Shotz sitting among a pile of red cartons, gazing into a map. “The difficulty is in sealing off the bottom of the dome, and then searching every level in turn.”
“The good thing in this situation…”
“I’m so happy to know that there is one. Please,” Shotz said. “Enlighten me.”
“The good thing is that we actually don’t need to have the Prince in hand. As long as people outside the dome believe we do, we are safe.”
“Yes… still, it does not serve our reputation. Not this instance, but for the next time.”
“Shotz… you said that this was it. That if we could do this, everything we’ve ever dreamed would come true. Our own island. The nation of Neutral Moresnot, brought into reality by our will.”
His eyes slid over her, slid away. Her heart sank. “Already, do you dream of a next time? There is no way to prevent our identities from becoming known. Our faces… but we’re being paid enough to stop.”
He chuckled. “We stop? I should stop? And what do you imagine I would do, Celeste?”
“Whatever you choose to do, it doesn’t have to be alone.”
For a moment, the air between them seemed to shimmer, and for that moment, a remarkably human smile softened Shotz’ face.
He brushed his scarred knuckles down her cheek. “And what, Celeste? Did you imagine a picket fence? Bouncing babies? A rocking chair at sunset? How exactly did you imagine this playing out?” His voice was surprisingly gentle, not mocking at all. The machinelike character of his voice had relaxed into something approaching humanity.
She smiled. “Not a picket fence, Alexander.” She almost never used his given name, even in moments of passion. His expression flickered surprise. “But General Motabu owes us an island, perhaps near Madagascar. Near the equator, where we could build a… what was it called?”
He smiled wanly, as if at a fond child. “A beanstalk,” he said. “A space tether.”
“Yes! This! We could be rich, and powerful.” She grasped his hands. “When this is over,” she said, “give me a chance. Give me a chance to make it good with you.”
He was still pressed back against the wall, as if waiting for disaster. “All right. I owe you that much.”
“We owe ourselves,” she said. Her eyes and smile softened her face. “I could make you happy.”
Her mood, her dream, was infectious. His thick forefinger traced her jaw. “If anyone could. Now.” He balled his fist and tapped it against the wall. “Let’s not begin the celebration just yet. We have game to flush. Gamers.”
Wayne was poised at the wall of the next bubble, power saw poised and ready. “How long?”
“Soon,” Angelique said. “Get ready.”
Scotty leaned back against the curve of the dome, staring out and up, barely able to move. “Everything is so bright. So… loud. But…”
Kendra’s voice in his ear. “Don’t look up. Don’t even look at the dome. Just concentrate on the work. Can you do that?”
“Are the others done?” he asked.
“All set and in position. We’re just waiting for you.”
“Then I guess…,” he said, turning over, “I’d better get to work.”
One step at a time. He felt an almost irresistible urge to look up at the sky, as if it were a predator ready to strike. “Kendra?”
“Yes?” her blessed voice.
“Do you remember our honeymoon?”
A pause. “On Vava’u? Vividly.”
“Me, too.” He was struggling to get the lid off, his fingers clumsy.
“How are things going out there?”
“Pretty bad,” Scotty said. “But I’ll get it done. Helps me to talk. Do you remember the surf? Water was warm when we’d go down in the morning.”
She laughed in his ear. A caress. “It was like that when I was a girl. So warm. What I remember is warm sand between my toes.”
“I feel a little cold right now,” he said. “I don’t think my suit heater is working right. Tell me about how warm it was.”
“Back when I was a girl?”
“No, when we were on our honeymoon.”
Was that a touch of embarrassment now, on her side? “Scotty… I’m not sure this is the time.”
“I can’t think of a better one.”
“It was warm at midnight, Scotty. Remember? I remember taking you to the cove where I used to go as a girl. I wanted so much to share my special places with you.” She spun a string of musical Tongan polysyllables. My sweetheart. My dearest love.
“I remember the stars there, at night.”
A sharp intake of breath on her part. “Scotty. Are you sure you should be discussing stars?”
“Maybe,” he said. “Maybe this is the time, Kendra.”
A pause. “Maybe it is, at that.”
His fingers seemed to be thawing. “After this is all over. Do you think that maybe we could go back there? Sometimes I think I left the best part of myself there. And here, with you. What do you think, Kendra? Is it possible for people to go back, make things right, start over?”
“I hope so, Scotty. If we can’t make up for the things we did… or said… I’m not sure there’s any hope for any of us.”
“Hah! It’s open!” His fingers stung. He stared at the input plate. Would wonders never cease! “I think I have it. Give me the numbers.”
“Security override XX5489223.”
“Got it. Asako?”
“I’ve got that. And… entering it. My pod is shaking hands now… and… it’s done.”
Scotty exhaled hard enough to fog his faceplate, and rolled over. “The stars…”
“Scotty?” Are you all right?”
“It’s… all right. They don’t blink, or look away. They see me. I think maybe that’s all right.”
The alarm began to sound.
Inside the dome, Shotz’ head whipped around as the alarm began to howl.
“What in the hell…?”
Celeste was on the edge of panic. “I’m not getting the message. We overrode the computer, and it’s taking me a minute to route the connection back to our board-”
The alarm grew louder.
“Here it is… it says ‘emergency flush sequence.’ What in the hell-”
Shotz’ eyes narrowed. “Get the men back into the bubbles! Get them out of the gaps in this damned dome-”
“That’s it! Drill!” Angelique screamed.
Wayne started up his power tool, an ear-shattering whine as it began to cut through the bubble’s wall. The stench of burnt plastic choked them, and smoke filled the air as if they were in a hookah bar. The gamers retreated from the action, watching with wide, hopeful eyes.
Around the dome, the men of Neutral Moresnot were hustling themselves into the bubbles, slamming the doors behind them. Carlyle strained. “What’s that sound?”
“The alarm, idiot!” Fujita replied. “Someone breached the dome.”
“Not that. Another sound-”
“More! More!” The drill was loud enough to deafen them, and then suddenly Wayne was through the wall, into the interstitial space. Wayne continued cutting, the saw’s burning blade whining as it sliced.
Then the chunk of wall fell away. Wayne stepped through onto the walkway. The second door opened easily. “We’re in!” he screamed back.
“Hurry!” Angelique yelled. “Move. We’ve got to go, go, go!”
Scrambling, the gamers hustled through into the next bubble.
“Cut the damned power on the alarm!” Shotz howled.
“But-”
“Cut it, Celeste! This is a strategem. There is no breach.”
“But I hear the alarm!”
“Do you feel the air move? No. If there was a massive breach, there would be a drop in air pressure. Nothing. It’s a fraud!”
Celeste spent a few moments on her computer, and the alarm died.
Scotty watched the alarm as it faded from the monitor. “All right,” Darla said. “The bad guys killed it. Let’s just hope our folks were able to get shed of that bubble. Let’s hook up at door five. We’ll be able to meet them. Is everything all right?”
“Good to go,” Scotty said.
“Good. Let’s get down. We have to move. Asako…?”
A pause. No reply. “Asako?”
When Asako spoke, her voice was very controlled and steady… but Scotty knew fear when he heard it. “I’m afraid that I have bad news. It looks as if my pod’s specifications may have been overly optimistic.”
“What in the hell does that mean?”
“It means,” she said, “that I am so very grateful for this opportunity to play with all of you. But I think this is as far as I go.”
“What? ”
“I’m afraid that my pod has been losing… losing… atmosphere. Not much…”
“Asako, darlin’,” Darla said. “Can’t you just get back inside?”
“I’m… I’m not…”
Adrenaline fried his nerves. “Asako!” he screamed. “I’m coming!” Scotty began to crawl around the hand- and footholds, swinging.
“I’m coming, too, Scotty.” Darla’s voice. “The two of us oughta be able to handle it.”
“Please…,” a whisper. “Don’t risk it on my account. Get back into the dome. Get our people away while we have the chance.”
“Will you shut up? We’re all making it out of here together.”
“I’m… afraid… not. Not this time… Scotty, I don’t know what demons trouble you, but that woman, that good woman you were speaking to sounds as if she loves you.”
He was almost in sight now.
“I love her, too.”
“Don’t let her go, Scotty. I haven’t been touched in so long… so long…”
“Asako!”
It took six minutes to reach her, by which time she sat lax and pale, unconscious in her pod.
Darla was approaching from the other side. “Pull. This way.”
The two of them began to leverage the pod up the side of the dome.
The eleven remaining members of Neutral Moresnot, plus Thomas Frost, had all collected in bubble 37-C. “Sensors say the dome has full integrity,” Shotz said.
“Why would they pull an alarm like that?” Fujita asked.
“To distract us,” Shotz said. “While they did something.”
“Maybe… something noisy?”
“Possible. Probable.” His mouth twisted, as if he were spitting out something toxic. “Dammit! Find them!”
Celeste clenched her fists. “I wish we could kill them,” she said.
“That time may come.”
He tapped fingers on the keyboard, and a display of the gaming dome appeared.
“There are a hundred and thirty-seven major bubbles in eight levels in the dome,” Celeste said. “We’ve cleared the top twelve, and unless they sneak back and get behind us, they’re still trapped below.”
“Yes. And as you say… as long as they don’t escape, we’re still on track.” Shotz yelled at his men. “Split into teams of two, and cover all the routes. Make your way down to the basement.”
A thoughtful pause. “And be careful.”
Huddled in bubble 45-D, the gamers jumped when the room reverberated with door-banging thuds.
“About time!” Wayne said. He looked through the plate, recognized Scotty, and released the emergency lock. The door cycled from red to yellow to green, and then opened.
Angelique threw her arms around Scotty. “You did it!”
“I can’t believe it,” Sharmela said. “This is fantastic. From bubble 45, we can get to…” Suddenly she looked around. “Hey! Where’s Asako?”
The realization hit the others like a bomb. “She’s… dead?”
Scotty nodded. “Her pod leaked. She didn’t tell us until it was too late to save her.”
“I can’t…” Maud was shaking. “I can’t do this.” She looked up. “We need to quit. Now. Surrender. They won’t hurt us.”
Scotty looked at Angelique. “We can vote on it. Who wants to go on, and who wants to stay? I can promise you that Asako didn’t die so that we could give up, but I won’t try to make up your minds for you.”
“I must go on,” Ali said. “They want to use me as a weapon against my father.”
“Mickey?”
The Brit shook his head. “If Maud stays behind, I have to stay with her,” he said.
“I can’t argue with that,” Angelique said. “Maybe someone else can. But… I want to go on.”
“Me, too,” Wayne said. “It may be crazy, but I’m not sure that if we give up now, we’ll be any better off than if they catch us later.”
“Could that be true?” she asked Scotty.
“Only Ali is really safe,” he said.
“And there’s another thing,” Wayne said
“And what is that?” Scotty asked.
“Let’s just say that there are people with a lot riding on this game. And if we can finish it…”
“But the IFGS has to have canceled!” Maud squawked.
“Well… yes. But there’s the IFGS, and then there is public opinion. If we finish it successfully, they will have to consider reinstating the points retroactively. It’s happened before: Remember the second Aztec game?”
Angelique nodded. “Tony McWhirter broke his leg. The IFGS demanded he leave, and his team refused. They canceled the game, but Dream Park and the Game Master kept it going.”
“I remember hearing about that,” Scotty said. “There was a write-in campaign? Forced the IFGS to change its ruling?”
“Exactly. Now listen,” Wayne said. “Do all of you realize that this is the greatest game ever? The only Dream Park game ever played for real? And we’re right in the middle of it. We can give up later, sure. But the longer we can keep going, the-”
“The more pissed the pirates will be,” Scotty said. “Look, I’m all for charging forward
, but I’m not going to lie to you. Things will be better for all of you, if you’re caught, if you’re caught sooner rather than later. I’m betting on the whole enchilada. I think there’s a chance we can actually get the hell out of here.”
“Whatever!” Wayne said.
“I wish I could,” Maud said, a touch of wistfulness in her voice. “I’m just so scared.”
“Then use this!” Wayne said. “You’re gamers. Just… just think of it as part of the game. Play your role. Focus on that.”
“Maybe. Perhaps I can,” she said. Mickey kissed her cheek.
“You people are crazy,” Scotty said. “Sharmela?”
“Then I’m crazy, too. Listen. I won this trip, or I couldn’t have afforded any of it. My wife and I had to think long and hard about how to use this opportunity to get out of a real financial hole we’d dug ourselves into.” She gestured helplessly.
“And?”
“Fit/Fat. It was a miracle. We got in touch with the right person, and got corporate backing for my training, and the promise of a contract if I performed well. This means everything to us. It’s worth the risk.” She forced herself to smile. “So for a few more hours, I’ll pretend that it’s a game. Right? Everyone? We make that deal?”
Sharmela extended her hand. Ali slapped his down atop hers, followed by the others, except for Scotty.
“Scotty, please,” Angelique said. “So we’re a little nutty. That doesn’t mean we don’t understand the stakes.”
“Scott,” Ali said. “Either extend your hand, or you are terminated.”
Scotty squinted at him. “You are the biggest ass I have ever worked for,” Scotty said. “I think I’m starting to like you.” And extended his hand.
While the others talked and built up each other’s bravado, Scotty pulled Wayne aside. “A question.”
“Yes?”
“You wouldn’t, by any chance, have bet on yourself to win?”
Wayne’s eyes opened wide. “Why would you think that?”
“Dunno. Just a wild question. Is there a law against gamers betting on games?”
“Frowned on, but not exactly illegal unless they bet to lose,” he said. “That could be bad for the team.”
