Death Dream

by Ben Bova

  The poor bastard won't have a chance.

  CHAPTER 40

  To a stranger the Santorini kitchen might have looked like a television commercial for breakfast foods. Philip was in his high chair, spooning up mashed fruit from a colorful plastic bowl and managing to get a fair amount of it into his mouth; the rest was on his chin, cheeks, and baby bib.

  The baby was separated from the rest of the family, at the end of the kitchen table. At the other end sat Angela with a larger bowl of cereal and fruit. Susan sat between her two children, munching on a slice of thin toast, while Dan sat opposite her in his crisply starched short-sleeved white shirt, hardly touching his plate of sunny-side-up eggs.

  "Angel," he said, "there's something I want to tell you. Something important."

  Angela looked up from her cereal.

  "Your mother and I want you to stop using the VR games for a while—"

  Her eyes widened. She began to whine, "Da-aa-dy!"

  Susan reached out and grasped her slim arm. "Only for a while, baby."

  "But why? I like the games."

  Susan looked across the table at her husband. Dan's stomach was already clenching inside him.

  As calmly as he could, he said, "There are a few things I need to check out about those games, Angel. As soon as I've done that, you'll be able to play them again."

  "You can still use the VR for your lessons. It's only the games that we want you to stay out of."

  "What's wrong with the games? I like them!"

  Dan had spent half the night rehearsing this, yet he still felt totally unprepared to face his twelve-year-old daughter.

  "Well," he said, hoping he had the right argument to convince her, "it's sort of like eating chocolate. You like chocolate, don't you?"

  "Sure."

  "And what happens when you eat too much of it?,

  "You get zits."

  Dan blinked with confusion. He had expected her to say she would get a belly-ache.

  "And fat," Susan chimed in.

  "Sometimes," Dan went on, trying to cover up his surprise, "we have to stop doing things we really like to do because they're not all that good for us."

  "The VR games aren't hurting me."

  "Maybe not," he admitted. .But I want to check them out and make sure."

  Angela's fair-skinned face clouded into a childish frown. "If there was anything wrong with them, Mrs. O'Connell wouldn't let us play them."

  "I've already talked with her on the phone this morning," said Susan.

  "And you told her I can't play the games?" Angela looked shocked.

  "It's for your own good, sweetie," Dan said.

  "All the other kids can play the games!" she shouted. "They'll all laugh at me!"

  "No they won't—"

  "They will! They will! You don't want me to play because I'm happy in the games! The prince loves me and he wants me to stay with him and you just want to make me miserable!"

  "Prince?" Susan looked startled.

  "If I can't play the games I won't go to school!"

  "All right," Susan said. "You can stay home today."

  "No," Dan snapped. "school's important. You go to school today and every day. You just don't play the VR games until I tell you it's okay. Is that clear, young lady?"

  There were tears in Angela's eyes, but she nodded silently.

  "Now go wash your face and get ready for the school bus," Dan said sternly.

  Slowly she got up from the table, lower lip trembling.

  "I'll help you," Susan said. She got up too.

  Dan sat there, morning sunlight streaming through the alcove windows, his eggs congealing into an unappetizing mess. Philip banged his spoon on the high-chair tray, grinning widely, his face smeared with his breakfast.

  Dan made a smile for his son, thinking that boys are much easier to deal with than daughters.

  Susan came back and untied Philip's bib. She started to clean the baby's face with the back side of it.

  "The bus come already? I didn't hear—"

  "She's sitting in her room for a few minutes. She's really upset, Dan."

  "We've got to do this."

  "I know, but she can't understand why."

  "Maybe we should tell her."

  "No." The sharpness of her voice made the baby jump. Philip looked up at his mother, reached for her. Susan automatically patted his cheek as she said to Dan, "That would just frighten her."

  He realized he was gnawing his lip. "Maybe a little scare would help her to see how serious this is."

  "She knows we're serious."

  "What was that about a prince that loves her?"

  "Something in the games. I don't know. She's that age, you know. She's looking for romance."

  Dan's nostrils flared. "That's how girls get pregnant."

  "Oh for God's sake! We're talking about virtual reality games here, not real boys."

  "We're talking about Kyle or Jace or somebody trying to get into her mind, Sue. And maybe more than that."

  Susan stared at him for a moment. Then, "You're right," she whispered.

  "She seems attached to the games, doesn't she?"

  "She's just afraid of being ridiculed by the other kids. You know how children tease."

  But Dan shook his head. "I wonder if it's more than that. She seems really hooked on the games. Like an addict."

  "You're exaggerating," Susan said. But there was no conviction in her tone, and inwardly she worried that Dan was right.

  "You spoke to her teacher already?"

  "That was a white lie," Susan answered as she lifted Philip from his high chair. "Eleanor wouldn't be at the school this early. I'll phone her as soon as the school bus picks Angie up."

  "Better tell her to keep an eye on Angie, see if she seems emotionally bothered by all this."

  Susan nodded grimly while Phil examined her ear with his sticky fingers.

  The reception lobby was empty this early on a Monday morning, Chuck Smith saw as he headed for Vickie's office. He glanced at his wristwatch: not even seven-thirty yet. Plenty of time to meet Perry's plane at the airport.

  Time to mend fences with Vickie, he thought.

  She was already working at her keyboard, looking stylish and capable in a gold silk pants suit. She sensed Chuck at the office door, looked up and smiled coolly at him. She had been very cool the past two nights. They had dined together at quiet romantic restaurants but that had been it. Vickie had said goodnight to him and driven home by herself. Smith realized he had gone too far with her on Friday night. He blamed it on the power rush from his first VR experience.

  "It won't happen again," he had promised, over candlelight and wine.

  Vickie had nodded, smiling knowingly. Now he wondered if she would ever go to bed with him again. Well, he rationalized, maybe it's better that we don't. If we're going to be working together maybe we shouldn't let sex snarl things up between us. Besides, there are plenty of other twats available. Younger ones, too.

  So he smiled back at Vickie as he stepped across her oriental carpet and sat himself on the little love-seat.

  "You're in early," she said.

  "Yeah. I don't think anybody else is in the building this early except you and me—and the security guard at the front door."

  "How are things in Washington?"

  For an instant he felt a pang of alarm. How much does she know? he wondered. How much should I tell her?

  Then he relaxed and gave her a satisfied grin. "Everything's fine. An . . . associate of mine is coming in this morning at ten-thirty."

  "If the plane's on time."

  "This one will be. It's a private jet, special VIP service."

  "Courtesy of the American taxpayer," Vickie murmured.

  Smith let it pass. "By the way," he said, "I don't think that man Peterson will be bugging you anymore. We've scared him off."

  Vickie looked genuinely relieved, but all she said was, "Good." Then she added, "Thank you."

  He got up from t
he loveseat.

  "Don't go," Vickie said.

  Smith let himself settle back in the little sofa.

  "Chuck, I've got to know what this is all about. This job that Jace is doing for you."

  "I told you—"

  "The real reason, Chuck," Vickie said. "I've been thinking hard about this. There's more to it than creating an information system for the White House."

  He gave her a long, silent look. She was utterly serious. She's bright, Smith told himself. And ambitious.

  "If I'm going to be a part of your game," Vickie said, .I want to know the whole story. Otherwise . . ."She let the thought hang in the air between them.

  "Otherwise what?" he asked, trying to keep the anxiety out of his voice.

  "I can pull Jace off the job. I can tell Kyle we should stop the project. I could even let the news media know who you are. Then you'd have to tell them why you're here."

  "That wouldn't be smart, Vic."

  She made a smile for him. "You know I don't want to do any of those things, Chuck. But I have to know the whole story. What are you really up to?"

  Again Smith hesitated, thinking, How far can I trust her? She's ambitious, sure enough, but can she be loyal?

  Would she be willing to go all the way with us?

  "Chuck?" she prompted.

  You've got to make decisions in this business, he told himself. There's nobody else here to fall back on. It's my call.

  "Okay," he said, letting out a breath he had not been aware of holding in. "Okay."

  Vickie sat up straighter in her chair, expectantly.

  "How do you like the way your government works, Vickie?"

  "What?"

  "How do you like the way your elected representatives keep on screwing up everything? The economy's in a mess, foreigners are buying up the whole damned country, the cities are falling apart, drugs are destroying our children, our so-called allies thumb their noses at us, the Congress is in a perpetual gridlock and the President's more worried about his popularity ratings than getting anything done."

  "So what else is new?" Vickie quipped.

  "Virtual reality. That's what new."

  "I don't understand."

  "Yes, you do," Smith said. "You just haven't taken it to its logical conclusion."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Control the information input and you control the decision, right?"

  Vickie nodded.

  Deadly earnest, Smith said, "Control the information input to the President and you control the President. Every powerful chief of staff knew that: Eisenhower's chief, Sherman Adams; Nixon's Ehrlichman; Bush's Sununu—they all made certain that the only access to the president was through them."

  "But they all got fired, eventually, didn't they?"

  "That's the beauty of it. I'll be strictly behind the scenes. The media won't even know I exist. They won't know a thing about the VR system. I'll just be an assistant to the guy who has to take the heat."

  "The power behind the throne."

  "Right on! And it doesn't matter if The Man gets re-elected or not. I'll be just one of the administrative staff guys who stays there no matter who's in office. Part of the faceless bureaucracy. With you and a couple of other people I know, we can run the works!"

  "A few other people?"

  "I mean," he went on, ignoring her question, "this country needs good, solid, reliable government. But what've we got? One party gets in and tries to do its thing, the other party works its ass off to block everything until they get their own guy into the White House. That's got to stop!"

  "And you're going to put an end to that?" Vickie murmured.

  "Hell yes! We're going to give this country good government, get the job done, put this nation back on the road to greatness."

  "With virtual reality."

  He nodded grimly. "First the White House. Once the cabinet secretaries find out how the President gets so sharp, they'll all want access to a similar VR system. Then the clucks in the Congress will want it, too. We'll get them all, and they'll all see the world the way we want them to see it."

  "You'll be running the entire government," Vickie said, surprised that the thought appealed to her.

  "It's this drug business, Vic," he said earnestly. "It's destroying our children; it's destroying the fabric of our society, for Lord's sake! We've got to stop them."

  "Them?"

  "The dealers. The pushers. Organized crime. The whole damnable drug cartel. I mean, we've got the armed forces: It's time to use them! Get the President to declare a national emergency. Suspend all these damned civil rights laws, temporarily. It's been done before. Lincoln did it, and look what a saint he's thought to be!"

  "I don't understand," Vickie said.

  "The President can activate the National Guard. With them and the regular Army we can go into the cities, rout out the pushers and dealers and all those other crooks and pimps. Clean 'em all out! And their goddamned crooked lawyers, too! Put 'em all behind barbed wire."

  Vickie felt almost breathless. "Chuck, that's—that's not possible. Is it?"

  "Somebody's got to do it, sooner or later. Somebody's got to." Hunching forward on the loveseat, unconsciously lowering his voice, Smith said, "There's a small group of real Americans who want to set things right. We want to make this government work. Work the right way."

  Her eyes widening, Vickie gasped, "You want to take over the government?"

  Smith grinned at her. "That's the beauty part of it, Vic. We don't have to do anything so old-fashioned. With VR we don't have to take over the government. But we can run it!"

  "Run it?"

  "Control the information input, remember? We start with the White House. Put in a VR system in time to shape the President's State of the Union message. Get him to see things the way we want him to see them."

  "Through VR."

  "Right on. VR for the White House staff. VR for the Oval Office. Pretty soon the cabinet officers are going to want their own VR systems. So we start to control them. Then the Congress. A small group of us is going to take over the decision-making process in Washington. And that group includes you, Vickie. You're part of this."

  "I am?"

  "You are now. The guy who's coming down here, Hal Perry, he's with the Security Advisor's staff. He's a key man in our group. There's only a handful of us, but we're positioned in the most influential spots in the White House."

  "You really intend to run the White House?"

  "The whole government, Vickie. The whole god-damned mother-loving shebang. And you're part of it. You're going to be the most powerful woman in the country, Vickie. The most powerful woman in the world!"

  Nodding, Vickie saw a vision of herself in the White House. But the vision disappeared almost instantly.

  "Jace," she said.

  "What about him?" asked Smith.

  "How are we going to control him? You can't trust him to keep his mouth shut."

  Smith smiled tightly at her. "That's going to be your problem. You're our liaison with the technical types."

  "Thanks a lot!"

  His smile widened into a toothy grin. "Don't worry. Jace'll be okay as long as we give him toys to play with. I told him he can have anything he wants in the way of hardware and he seems happy as a pig in shit."

  "For now," Vickie said. "But I wonder how long he'll stay happy. And under control."

  "As long as we need him." Then Smith's grin vanished. "Once he's finished this first job, of course, we could get rid of him if we have to."

  Vickie nodded again, slowly, but said, "It would be better to keep him. He's tremendously creative."

  "Sure," said Smith easily. "As long as he's useful. And under control."

  "I feel like a Kamikaze pilot," Dan muttered as he stood at the breezeway door, keys in hand.

  "You can do it, Tiger," Susan encouraged him.

  "Yeah." He kissed her tightly and then went out through the door toward his Honda, a slightly-built man in a short-sleeved shi
rt and beltless gray slacks, navy blue sports jacket slung over one arm, heading for a showdown with his best friend and his boss.

  Susan's heart went out to him. She knew he would rather be a million miles away from this, yet he was finally marching out there to face Jace and Muncrief. But Dan did not look like a soldier heading into battle or a flyer going off to attack the enemy. To Susan he looked more like a grimly determined man heading toward a suicide mission.

  CHAPTER 41

  All the way to the office Dan kept muttering to himself, "Stand up to him. Don't let him evade the issue. Come right out with it and don't let up until he's told you everything."

  Yet he remembered the shootout simulation. Jace gunned me down. He killed me. He could do it again. I've got to keep him out of the VR chamber and pin him down to reality. The real world. I've got to keep him in the real world and make him tell me what he's done. That was going to be tough enough, he knew. But he also dreaded the fact that before the day was out he would have to face Muncrief too. If Muncrief's actually messing with Angie's games, I'll have to deal with him as well as Jace. And there goes the job, the career, everything. It doesn't matter if I'm right or wrong about him, Kyle will throw me out on my ear as soon as I accuse him of fooling around with Angela's games.

  Maybe I should ask Vickie for help, he thought. Or maybe she's a part of this mess, covering up for Kyle. Sue doesn't trust her, and so far Sue's instincts have been one hundred percent on the mark.

  He was driving slowly over the speed bumps as he headed for the back parking lot before he realized he had reached the ParaReality building. No, he told himself as he parked the Honda beneath one of the swaying willows. Jace gimmicked the F-22 sim and he's rigged Angie's school games. If I'm right, he's killed two men and he's helping Muncrief mess with my daughter's mind. I talk to Jace face-to-face and if Muncrief's involved the way Sue thinks he is, then I brace him too. Not Vickie. No in-betweens. They're messing with my daughter and I'm going to find out who and why.

  He was trembling inside by the time he reached his office. Without bothering to do more than hang his sports coat on the peg back of the door, he started down the corridor toward Jace's lab. He saw that the light over the door to the VR lab was blinking red. Somebody in there already? Dan cracked the metal door slightly. Three technicians sat in the cramped control booth, hunched over the glowing, humming monitor screens. Surprised, Dan slid into the booth and let the heavy door spring shut behind him. Sure enough, Jace was in the VR chamber, decked in helmet and gloves, shuffling around like a gawky scarecrow, windmilling his arms in dreamy slow motion.