The Moon Maze Game

by Larry Niven

  “You have direct knowledge of this?”

  “No,” Toby said. Was that a tic at the corner of his mouth? A bit of a squint? McCauley was nervous. “No, but we played squash together, Thomas and I, and several times he implied that the government of Kikaya was riddled with revolutionary forces, and that some of them were close to the King.”

  “And?”

  “They implied that Kikayan loyalists had fingers everywhere, and knowledge that would one day be applied to the freeing of—”

  Thomas slapped his hand on the table. “He is lying. I have no such contacts. But Mr. McCauley has debts. It is known that, for a price, his shop has made contraband items that have made their way into Luna’s black market.”

  Kendra pushed a piece of paper across to him.

  “I want to know what you know, and from whom you learned it. And I want to know now.”

  Thomas hesitated, and then began to write.

  * * *

  Piering met Kendra outside the cell. They walked together in silence for a while, and then found an elevator.

  “Did you get it?” Piering asked.

  “Enough,” Kendra said. “He was easier than McCauley. I think he figured that the ball is in play now, and that after the situation is resolved, he will have sufficient leverage to force us to release him to Earth. While McCauley is making noises as if he’s still staying here, still running for election … but I think that’s bullshit. I think he’s planning to take off with the others.”

  “Should we take a look at his residence? See if he’s preparing to leave?”

  “Yes, send someone over to do that, I think,” Kendra said. “What the hell happened? The man used to have ambitions.”

  “Maybe he still does. Maybe someone made him a better offer.”

  They opened the next room, and Xavier greeted them. “Now, that was fun. I was afraid that you wouldn’t give me enough to work with.”

  On the screens were wireframes of Frost and McCauley, partially filled in. “We are thinking that if they had more help outside, they wouldn’t have sent one of the brothers in.”

  Wu Lin came closer. “Which means?”

  “Which means that if we can control the visual feeds, and seal off the dome from outside communications, they might be blind.” Kendra said.

  “But,” Xavier said, “they mustn’t know that they are blind.”

  “No, they mustn’t.”

  “It seems, Wu Lin, that we have a game after all. One with considerably higher stakes. Please, Ms. Griffin. Dazzle me.”

  * * *

  Xavier and his people watched on a game monitor as the Moresnot men broke into the Mars room.

  “We have no direct contact with the gamers, as you know. Most of the time. But we do have some system backup sensors. We received a notification that someone was attempting to hook several of them up in series.”

  “Why?” Kendra asked.

  “I think they want to activate the animatics and preprogrammed holograms.”

  “Where are the pirates right now?” Kendra asked.

  “Entering Mars,” Xavier said after a glance at the screen.

  “Would Scotty have known they were coming?”

  “Very possible.”

  Kendra sighed. “Show me the thermals.”

  A gauzy map blossomed. A clutch of red silhouettes arrived through a connecting door. Their scans revealed two people hidden in the room.

  Suddenly, Kendra understood. “Scotty’s going for an ambush. We have to help him.”

  The little Game Master perked up. “What did you have in mind?”

  “What exactly are your capabilities at this point?” she asked.

  “In terms of communicating or controlling the illusions?”

  Xavier closed his eyes and considered. Then he began ticking off points on his fingers. “I cannot control the illusions directly. I can’t add data to the computers in the gaming dome. I cannot send outside power to any of the illusions, nor can I use the main camera feeds to observe.”

  “That’s the bad news,” Kendra said. “And…?”

  “And … our attackers were smart, but not brilliant. We can do a small amount of imaging, using a subsystem. We can route power from one part of the dome to another.”

  “How so?”

  “The backups. In case of power failure, we wanted to be able to keep going until major power was restored. We have some backdoor controls there. Let’s see … as you already know, in certain situations we can communicate with the gamers a bit, using Morse code.”

  “If Scotty is planning to ambush Moresnot,” she said, “we want to help him. What can we do?”

  A pause, then Wu Lin spoke. “There is little we can do directly. But there is one factor that must be taken into consideration.”

  “Which is?”

  Wu Lin’s eyes glittered. “Mr. Griffin is accustomed to our illusions. The kidnappers are not.”

  “True,” Xavier said. “More to the point, the more complex and disorienting we make the situation, the greater advantage should accrue to the good guys, such as they are.”

  “What can you do?” Kendra asked.

  “Well,” Xavier said. “You have to understand that a game is controlled by both the technological constraints and the commercial considerations. That means that, as with any good story, there is a rhythm to the flow of the game. Smaller illusions give way to larger, more impressive ones until you reach the end, and use the most impressive ones of all.”

  Kendra nodded. “And so you suggest…?”

  “Taking off the gloves,” the little man said.

  * * *

  The Moresnot pirates combed the Martian graveyard as best they could, when not gaping and gawking at the expanse of machines.

  McCartney shone his flashlight up at the ceiling. “This dome…,” He shook his head. “Looks larger than it can possibly be.”

  Shotz made a harsh humorless sound. “That has to be the illusions.”

  “I thought we cut the power,” Celeste said.

  “Backup,” Shotz said. “We cut main power, but some of the environmental systems have backup in case of emergency. I think the Dream Park have people tapped into those lines.”

  The shadows of the Martian machines loomed large above them.

  “This is creepy. What are these things?”

  “Some sort of robot,” Shotz offered.

  “It’s hard to believe that people pay to … what? Be frightened? Have adventures?”

  Shotz smiled, as if it required physical effort to hoist his cheeks into position. “You don’t understand, because you are the kind of woman who makes her own adventures. People like this must have others make their adventures for them.”

  “How much does all of this cost?” Fujita asked. Despite his impressive mass, Fujita walked with great, almost incongruous delicacy and quiet.

  “I think,” McCartney said, “that I’m in the wrong bleedin’ business.”

  “Quiet,” Celeste said. “And split up. I say that they’re in here, and frightened to death.”

  Shotz motioned two of his men this-away, two that-away.

  * * *

  Scotty and Wayne were hiding behind a tremendous tripod with a tiny dome on top. One outsized flat foot concealed them.

  “What are they doing?” Wayne asked.

  Scotty peeked out and then ducked back. “Splitting up. Trying to pincer us.”

  “Is that a problem?”

  “Only if you want to stay alive. No, really … we have an advantage. There are only two of us, and they probably won’t have time to search the entire room.”

  “Unless they have sensors.”

  Scotty made a clucking sound. “Now where would they get something like that?”

  * * *

  Almost as if she had been reading Scotty’s mind, Celeste was operating a sensor pad covered with glowing green wireframes of everything in the room. Their nine men were marked in glowing orange. There were faint four-li
mbed orange glows marked on the far side of the room. “I think I might have something. I’m getting a signal.”

  “Good,” Shotz said. He peered at her screen, and then motioned to his men.

  * * *

  Wayne snuck a peek, ducked back. “Listen. That looks like a rescue sensor the woman’s holding. Used in the mines, but someone could modify it for other uses.”

  “You might be right,” Scotty said, peeking out through the misshapen alien shadows.

  “Then … why are they going in the wrong direction?”

  Suddenly, and without any warning, the Martian war machines rose up, impossibly tall in the cramped space, their domes actually ghosting through the ceilings.

  They roared, they lurched, and the Moresnot pirates fired at them with air guns and crossbows.

  “Hold your fire!” Shotz said. “It’s just a show. They can’t—”

  McCartney, the man next to him screamed as an arrow pierced his side. “Shit!” He crumpled over, clutching his side. “I’m hit!”

  Shotz whipped around. “They’re here, dammit!”

  “Where?” Fujita’s head snapped around.

  A second arrow bolt flew through the air, hit a prop next to Shotz’ head. “Down!”

  The pirates hit the deck as the Martian war machines continued to rage, their heat rays sweeping across the floor. A brilliant ruby ray touched one of the Moresnot people, and his bones gleamed through his skin as if he were a cartoon ghost. He screamed.

  “I have a visual!” Celeste screamed.

  Shotz looked up and across the room, seeing a woman crouching behind a war machine.

  “We don’t need her—” Shotz said. “Kill her.”

  But when he fired, it was a male scream that answered.

  “What the hell—” Shotz growled.

  * * *

  Scotty and Wayne had managed to stay out of the line of fire. “What the hell?” Scotty whispered. “What was that? They’re shooting at each other—”

  Wayne whispered in his ear. “Listen, Scotty—visual field manipulation isn’t perfect from every angle. Doesn’t need to be, as long as it’s perfect from the angle of the target.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I think Xavier is helping us. He’s creating illusions. Over there—Moresnot men. Over there, too.”

  Scotty blinked and looked more carefully. The ghost of an illusion around the Moresnot men, firing at each other and being lashed and confused by the illusion. One Asian woman had a handgun—

  “Illusion,” Wayne said. “That woman they’re shooting at is Asako, before she got sick. Xavier at play.”

  “Let’s get closer.”

  The two carefully crept from one lurching war machine to another. The machines targeted them with beams, but the pirates did not notice.

  When Scotty and Wayne got close enough, they loosed bolts.

  * * *

  Fujita took a bolt in the fleshy left side of his back. Hardly fatal in a sumo-sized man, but he screamed. “I’m hit! I’m hit! They’re behind us?”

  Shotz wheeled around, scanning without result. “Dammit! Where—”

  Celeste grabbed his arm. “I think we’re making a mistake. They only took two weapons, but they’re attacking as if they have more. I think we’re fighting our own people.”

  Next to them Bai Ling screamed: “Look out!”

  A crimson beam of light seared across the ground, smoke and fire gushing up from the ground as it did. The air was filled with alien cries, screams, cries of dismay, curses.

  And one very human “Dammit!” Rodriquez said that as the heat beam crawled across his body. He screamed … and then looked at himself in disbelief. “I’m alive!”

  Then—an air gun bolt hit him in the throat. The Spaniard tumbled with the impact, dying as he fell.

  Shotz bent to check the body—and perhaps to get out of the line of fire.

  “Dammit. We have to knock out the power system in here. Celeste?”

  She was too busy manipulating controls on her portable monitor. “Just a second. I’ll have to take out the air system. I’ll—there.”

  The upper sections of the war machines vanished. The din diminished. The Moresnot pirates got unsteadily to their feet.

  “They’re picking us off,” she said. “That’s one dead. Four wounded.”

  “Four,” he breathed heavily. “All right: Playtime is over. From now on, shoot to kill.”

  The man pushing himself up off the ground was shaking, either with fear or rage. “There wasn’t anything to shoot at! Where did they go, Shotz? Where did they go?”

  “Celeste?” Shotz asked.

  “There are three ground-level exits listed on the map. But there may be unmapped exits.”

  “We have to assume that they are heading to the caverns. Kill all the power, even basic life support. No more confusion. No more mistakes.”

  * * *

  Scotty and Wayne had retreated to the spaces beneath the bubble. The tunnel was vertical, and they had to climb down a ladder until they reached a sealed door at the bottom.

  “I hope the others had time,” Scotty said.

  Wayne seemed rattled. “Scotty. I think I might have killed that man. Have you ever … killed someone?”

  “No,” Scotty said. “But today sounds like a great time to start.”

  Wayne stopped to steady his breathing. “You aren’t bad with that crossbow. If this was a game, I’m starting to think you’d be okay.”

  “Another time,” Scotty said. “Another life.” Scotty grinned. “And besides, this is just a game, remember?”

  Scotty unscrewed the hatch. Below, another bubble. There was a ladder across the ceiling and down the inner curve of the dome, and they had to go hand-over-hand, brachiating in a way no one would try in Earth gravity. Their companions were down below, watching them.

  The room was covered bottom to top with flat-screen monitors. The gamers gawked at them: The screens showed images from around the solar system, as well as some from a canal-riddled Mars. Locations within the nest itself, displaying a thriving insectile community.

  Scotty dropped to the ground. “What is this place?”

  “Some kind of communications nerve center,” Angelique said. “Note that the images are stuck on a loop.”

  “So … we can’t use them to try to keep tabs on Moresnot?” Scotty asked.

  “No,” Darla said. “But they may not find the maintenance hatch we took. Good Lord willing, we just got ourselves another couple minutes.”

  They took a moment to examine the screens.

  Angelique spoke first. “So far … every major set-piece has come with clues, advantages, resources.”

  Wayne stood shoulder to shoulder with her, trying to see what she was seeing. “Could be the same here.”

  “Listen,” Angelique said. “I think that Xavier is watching us, and believe it or not, he’s helping us when he can. These puzzles are fail-safed, in terms of power. So we solve one, and get something in return. A door opens, a map appears … something.”

  “Don’t all games work that way?” Scotty asked.

  “Dream Park games do. So…,” the Lore Master said. “What’s the point of this room?”

  Scotty stared at the screens. What were they seeing?

  “Martian walkers,” Sharmela said.

  Maud pointed. “What is that? Saturn? And … Europa?”

  “This is the important one,” Mickey said. On the screen, a titanic battle between Martian war machines and giant Moon creatures.

  “Look,” Angelique said, pointing. “Look. Notice that the Martians use machines, and the Moon people are fighting back with animal forms.”

  “What do you think?” Wayne asked. “A biologically based technology? As opposed to machines?”

  “Maybe,” Angelique said. “But it might just be that the Martians had to travel a long, long way to get here. Needed machines.”

  Sharmela nodded. “But it is possible that Marti
an technology, even war technology, is primarily mechanical. The Lunies, biological.”

  Finally, Scotty spoke. “Well … that would make some sense. The thrust of Wells’ original story was that the Martians were weak, right? They needed technology to supplement their bodies?”

  “While the Moon people supplemented theirs with creative breeding. So … they are stronger than the Martians. But not stronger than us.”

  “No,” Scotty said. “Not stronger than us. But how does that help us?”

  Angelique stamped her foot. “We’ve lost the thread of the game. Let’s stop for a second. What is this game about? I mean, what was it originally about?”

  “Rescuing Professor Cavor?” Scotty offered.

  “Yes. Rescuing Professor Cavor. Professor Cavor is in this equation.”

  “Wait, wait wait,” Wayne said. “Maybe we’re looking at it backward. The lesson isn’t that the Lunies are stronger. It’s that their mechanical technology is weaker.”

  “Was weaker,” Angelique said. “But then Professor Cavor arrived.”

  “Weaker?” Mickey said. “Remember the airlock door on the surface? Does that look like an inferior technology?”

  “Maybe,” Scotty said. “Or maybe it’s a remnant.”

  Angelique seemed interested in that notion. “Regressed civilization?”

  “Very popular theme in early science fiction,” Wayne said. “Go ahead, Scotty.”

  He sighed. “Sorry. That’s as far as I go.”

  “I might have an idea,” Ali said.

  “Go on.”

  “Consider. These two civilizations, Martian and lunar, have a certain parity. Mars had a mechanical technology, while the Moon has a biological technology.”

  “And?” Angelique said.

  “This is only apparently a stalemate. The Martians attack, the Selenites fight them back. Can you all see the flaw in this?”

  Sharmela snapped her fingers. “The Selenites can’t attack the Martians.”

  “Right,” Angelique said. “How do you go interplanetary with living weapons?”

  “It would be reasonable,” Ali said, “to think that a difficulty.”

  “What if that changed?” Maud asked.

  “What would change it?” Wayne asked. Then suddenly, his face changed. “Oh, crap. Of course. Professor Cavor.”

  Mickey kissed Maud’s cheek and she bubbled like a debutante. “Good one, Maud. Professor Cavor. He arrived here as one of Earth’s greatest inventors in the Victorian age. Perfectly reasonable that the technology he shared with them might have had an effect on the war with the Martians.”