The Moon Maze Game dp-4
Page 35
And that was fine with him.
Xavier swept into the lounge, followed by Wu Lin and Magique. “The IFGS has, for the first time in almost a decade, called this game a draw. We have an invitation to mount it again, in six months.”
“Oh, no.” Angelique rolled her eyes. “You have got to be kidding. That’s not happening. I can’t even afford, let alone-”
Xavier grinned. “Can’t afford? Have you checked your bank balance? Do you realize that this game had the highest ratings in history?”
She looked at him dubiously. “Were we broadcasting?”
“Every minute. Everyone in this room is rich. And a couple of us are just absurdly rich. Numbers will be forthcoming, but think six or seven zeros.”
“I’m already drowning in zeros,” Sharmela said, sagged back into her chair, almost delirious with contentment. “Carnation Fit/Fat came through. I didn’t know anyone really got that much money. For anything.”
The gamers dissolved into talk. Scotty noticed that Xavier and Angelique leaned very close together, while Magique and Wu Lin looked on in approval.
Wayne approached. “Hey, Xavier…”
“Yes?” the little man said, looking up.
“You, uh… you came through for us. I owe you.”
Xavier narrowed his eyes. “All right. Let’s see just how grateful you are. How about the truth. Did you turn me in back at UCLA?”
“Did you take money to put Ali’s drawings in the game?”
The two men stared at each other. “No,” Xavier said. “I was stupid. My favorite writer wanted to collaborate with me, right out of the blue. But Ladd had a favorite artist, and he turned out to be a pseudonym for a Kikayan prince. I’m disgraced. I may never completely recover my reputation from that. Is that honest enough for you?”
Wayne paused. Then he nodded.
“Yes it is enough, or yes, you betrayed me?”
“Just… yes,” Wayne said. He chewed at his lower lip. “It was the worst thing I’ve ever done. And I’m sorry. And thank you for saving our lives.”
Xavier gazed at him, his own alien thoughts swarming behind the blue eyes. A silver serving-bot slid past them, with brandy snifters filled with champagne. Xavier plucked up two of them. “So, Mr. Gibson… shall we work together, and become even more ridiculously wealthy?” He held one of the snifters out to Wayne.
“You… would trust me again?”
“I trust no one,” Xavier said. “I trust myself to know what a man considers to be in his best interest. I believe I understand you now.”
Wayne accepted the offered glass. There was a tremor; his champagne foamed. Xavier tilted his in a toast, his arm around Angelique’s waist. “Good game,” he said.
Scotty tiptoed out of the room. No one would miss him, and he had things to do.
He found Ali in a com room, chatting excitedly with his father. The three-second delay seemed to have no effect on their enthusiasm. Ali saw Scotty, smiled warmly but turned back to his father and spoke in rapid-fire Congolese. The room had standard translation software, and Scotty slid on a pair of headphones, clicked his throat and said, “English.”
“Father! You gave up your throne for me!” Computer generated speech, but it maintained the Prince’s high register.
“You are my son,” the king replied. “What else was I to do?” He looked as if he had not slept in days. How long had it been since the game started? Sixteen hours? It seemed like months. “And you made me proud.”
“Me?”
“I saw you fly! I saw you stand and declare yourself one with the Ancestors. I saw you at war. And I am not the only one. I believe millions of our people saw you, or will see you in the coming months.” His father gave a sly smile. “ A father and son have much to speak of. Remember that democracy is coming to the republic. And in a decade, perhaps, a son returning home to lead his people, a great hero? Perhaps the republic no longer needs a king. But a president…? ” The King finally seemed to notice Scotty’s presence behind his son. “Mr. Griffin?” he said in English. “Come in.”
“Am I interrupting?”
“Not at all. I must thank you for my son’s life.”
“I return him almost undamaged.”
Ali laughed and fingered his nose, which looked like a squashed plum. The retired King’s image said, “Perhaps even better than you found him. Your bill will be honored. I suggest you add lavish expenses.”
“Did you come away with money?”
“Oh my, yes. Of course the new proprietors have a kingdom to pillage.”
“They won’t have as much as they thought,” Scotty said. “I spoke to Foxworthy. Whatever you invested in the Moon has been confiscated to pay for the damage to the dome, medical expenses for gamers, fines, quite a lot of lost water…”
“Ah,” Kikiya II’s image said. “Is there anything that a deposed, but very wealthy king can do for the man who saved his son?”
“I… will think about that. It is always good to have friends.”
“Indeed it is, Mr. Griffin. And you have most certainly made a new one.”
It seemed a good time to leave.
Kendra awaited Scotty in her office, welcomed him in and closed the door. He noted the plaques and statuettes already boxed, and raised an eyebrow. Instead of an answer she gave him a kiss long and deep enough to make him forget his myriad wounds and bruises.
“Thank God,” she said, crushing the lush length of her body against him. “I thought I’d lost you.”
“I’m not that easy to get rid of,” he said, and then winced as she squeezed him. “Careful there, careful! Watch it. That witch broke a rib, I’m sure. Where is she, anyway?”
“She and three of her little pigs are in lockup, under guard. Five more are in the infirmary, under guard. Three are in the morgue.” She shook her head. “Wow. Don’t mess with gamers, I guess.”
“The infirmary. Is that enough security?”
“Not like there’s really anywhere for them to go. The big Asian’s in a coma. It might take a month just to work out jurisdiction. Some of our people just want to send them for a naked stroll in the sunlight. We won’t let that happen, of course.”
“What about the Frost boys?”
Her expression soured. “They… are a different matter. Traitors are worse than mercenaries. If they’re lucky they’ll spend a year on hazardous duty in the mines. Might make them work their way home.”
“And what about Toby?”
“McCauley? On his way back to Earth. He helped us here, but he’s lost all his holdings and is lucky not to be breathing vacuum.”
“And you?”
She sighed. “Well, you can see I’m packing my office up. Fired.” Kendra brightened. “But not leaving. Not yet.” She looked at him suddenly. “Not unless you want me to.”
“Me?”
“I’d go anywhere to be with you, Scotty.”
“Well, then… let’s just stay here for a while.”
Her face brightened immediately. “I love the sound of that. I may have lost my job, but I’m still running for office, and with McCauley out of the picture, I’m a shoo-in. Cowles International might regret firing me. It’s independence, all the way.”
They kissed again. “So… let’s say we decided to stick around. Think I could find a way to earn my keep around here?”
“I’m sure Piering can find work for a hero.”
“Hero?”
“My hero,” she said. And kissed him again. “Your parents will be here in a week. I’d really like something good to tell them.”
“Good? Like what?”
“What do you think they’d like to hear?
“Ummm… maybe that we’re working on some grandkids.”
She grinned. “You call that work?”
“Lock your door,” he said. “And we’ll see.”
FB2 document info
Document ID: fbd-f36a68-a2c1-2c4e-16b2-a55d-6ab3-d6d0b4
Document version: 1
Document creation date: 29.07.2012
Created using: Fiction Book Designer, FictionBook Editor Release 2.6.6 software
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