by Larry Niven
"No chance of that, huh?" Eames put in.
"I wouldn't have put it quite like that, Mr. Eames... ah! There's one of my brave rescuers now!"
Griffin nodded acknowledgement. He squatted in front of her with a plate of beans balanced in his lap. "You're well worth the saving, too." She curtsied where she sat, and he went on. "So you're going to lead us to the dreaded Fore, eh?"
"Yes. Just don't mention their name during the Game unless you're ready to die. I can, because they gave me permission. I supposedly spent three weeks among them, while they waited to sacrifice me under a new moon." She turned to Leigh. "I find barbaric customs very stimulating."
Leigh leaned close to her. "Madam, beneath this civilized and cultured exterior you will find the heart of an absolute beast."
She seemed fascinated. "Teeth and all?"
"Especially teeth. Perhaps you'd like to see my horns sometime...
"Warriors are a lot more basic and earthy than wizards," Eames sniffed. "I'd think you'd be a little more attracted to my type."
"Yes, you'd think so, wouldn't you?" Leigh said warmly. He and Janet giggled without malice.
Eames was growing increasingly frustrated. "Listen, Janet, would you like to go for a walk?"
"Love to," she said, gazing into Alan's eyes. "Shall we?" And the two of them left the campfire.
Eames stared after them, biting his lip. "I'll be damned. Who'd think she'd prefer a faggot to a real man?"
Griffin politely said nothing. Eames looked at him, challenging. "What do you think?"
"I think she's a Gaming groupie. She went after Alan because he has more I.F.G.S. points than you do." It might even be true, Alex thought.
Eames grunted, somewhat mollified. "Yeah, that must be it." He gave Griffin a "just-us-men" smile. "You know, you can't ever figure women out."
"No, I guess you can't." Griffin directed his attention mightily to his rapidly cooling food. To Barnes's verbal sallies he merely grunted his replies. The warrior lost interest and grumbled away into the woods.
Alex let his mind follow an earlier track. Leigh has a good many Experience points. Leigh played a previous Game in Gaming Area A. And if Leigh noticed, some time last night, that Eames was safely occupied with Acacia, then ... but would he count on Acacia keeping Eames occupied?
Mary-em bounced down next to him. "How ya, Gary?"
"Doing pretty good. Feel a little tired, I guess."
"Big strong man like you?" she cackled. "I would have thought you'd wear out the lot of us."
"I just haven't slept well for the past couple of days," he said truthfully. "That always tears me up."
"Well, get some rest tonight, you'll need it soon enough."
"How so? These things don't seem so tiring. Nobody's fallen over yet."
"And the real fireworks probably start tomorrow. Lopez has just been testing us. By tomorrow night the last of the replacements will be in, and that's when we'll get hit with everything in the book."
"But why should that be so tiring? It's just a game. .
She looked at him incredulously. "Take a look around you, sonny. Do these people look like they've been playing a game?" He did look around. And Mary-em was right. Fatigue was etched into every face, dark rings under eyes and noticeable trembling in fingers and hands. He focussed for the first time on the amount of touching and cuddling going on around him. Tony and Acacia cuddling in the shadows, Bowan and Dark Star touching each other with almost embarrassing intimacy, and Chester snuggled with Gina in their double sleeping bag. Oliver and Gwen had retreated from the campfire altogether.
It was a little like a battlefield, he realised. The highly charged sexual atmosphere was no mere tease, and anything but casual. The immersion into a fantasy world was total; the exhaustion was real. The real need to reach out and touch. .
Where did it all fit together? And how did it relate to him, and
his problem? He looked at Mary-em, who was waiting patiently for his response. There was no electricity in her face now, but there was poise, and purpose. How did she fit in?
"You're right. It doesn't feel like a game. But it sure isn't real life. So what is it?"
"It's not that simple, Gary," she said, and he realised with a start that he had never before heard her speak softly. "It's a little different for everyone." Her eyes twinkled at him, and he was startled again to find himself considering her attractive. "Mostly, it's just fun. What you bring is what you get, sonny. Now, me, I do some pretty wild things all the time. Some of these folks never do anything more exciting than talk to a filing computer. So they come for straight out adventure. Some come for the Game challenge. You know, chess with living pawns. Puzzles. Some come for the people. I mean, when you're into Gaming as deep as this, sometimes it gets hard to find friends who don't think you're from Mars. That's all too simple, really. It's little bits of all of the above, different for every Gamer." She chucked him under the chin. "That's what makes it fun. So think about it. I think you'll make a hell of a Gamer when you figure out where you fit in."
She waddled off to her sleeping bag and zipped herself halfway in. The bag rustled, and she started handing clothing out, making a neat pile by her head. Griffin felt a sudden and inexplicable wave of affection for her; he fought an urge to hug her goodnight. Instead, he deposited his dish in a grimy pile and found his own backpack.
He was within touching distance of half a dozen sleeping Garners. No aspiring killer would try anything with so many potential witnesses nearby. The Griffin unrolled his superlight, heat-reflective sleeping sack, wishing for a moment that it was plain cotton. He slipped into it and took a final look around. All was quiet, all was peaceful, except for the half-formed questions that raced through his mind in unending circles, like dozens of tiny dachshunds chasing their tails.
With a supreme effort of will he pushed the questions out of his head and settled down to rest. He heard crickets in the bushes. He was wondering whether those chirps were live, or just more Dream Park magic, when his mind fuzzed out in sleep.
(delete this)
Chapter Seventeen
THE LAST REPLACEMENTS
The dream was too vivid for comfort. It began with the Nibek chasing Griffin through the halls of R&D, and ended with the creature cornering him in the first floor lounge. A spear materialized in his hand, and Alex threw it into the monster's head. It screamed thunderously and collapsed to the floor, melting into the form of Albert Rice, trussed and gagged and sitting dead by the drink dispenser.
"I'm sorry..." Griffin found himself saying automatically. A small crowd of people materialized, tsking the still form of the guard. A little gray-haired lady waved a disapproving finger at Alex. "He may not have been well balanced at the end, but he was a fine, upright boy," she said.
Someone in a snowy-white doctor's smock spoke with Bobbick's voice. "I knew the lad well, and he wouldn't take this sitting down..."
And just before the morning mists dissolved into the sounds and smells of breakfast, a third voice whispered, "Believe me. He was for real until he got his back up against it. Believe me . .
"Hey there, sleepy-head!" Acacia grinned at him, squatting to look into his face. Griffin parted gummy eyelids and groaned aloud. "What's the matter, tough guy?"
"That's simple, Cas. This sleeping bag doesn't go over too well with my water-bed body."
"Well, how would some bacon and eggs go?"
"Fresh eggs?"
"Absolutely. Kibugonai showed up this morning toting a cache of fresh eggs, bread, and orange juice."
"Me for cargo." The last niggling speculations about his dream were swept away by the sudden hollow in his belly. "What time is it? How long till Game time?"
"About an hour. Come on and eat. Kasan says that there'll be a place to bathe up ahead." She sniffed under her arms, dubiously. "Frankly, I need it." She bounded up and made for the next bedroll, where S.J. lay curled into a compact lump.
Griffin yawned.
He split the velcro seal and rolled out of the bag. His legs felt a little sore, and he massaged life into them with the practiced edges of his thumbs. Breathing deeply and slowly, he stretched out to touch his toes and twisted to each side, feeling the circulation return to the muscles in his back. He finished the warm-up with a few slow push-ups, then got to his feet.
The mood of the group was highly charged again. A night's sleep had refueled their fantasy engines. Alex remembered the nuzzling going on yesterday evening, and wondered whether sleep had much to do with it.
Henderson was holding court against the bole of a tree, munching a sweet roll while balancing a plate piled high with eggs and fresh bread. Kagoiano served Alex his breakfast, and the security man ambled over toward Chester to eavesdrop.
"What did you think of last night's opposition?" Bowan asked between bites of egg.
"The natives?"
"Typical orcs," was Chester's answer. "It's really a shame nobody has figured a more realistic way to conduct personal combat. Dream Park is too worried about injuries and lawsuits. So no rough stuff-"
"Orcs?" Griffin asked.
Henderson was brusk. "Generic term. The old role-playing games were overrun with these little beasties out of Lord of the Rings. They were ridiculously easy to kill. Now it's a nickname for swordfodder in general. Okay?" Griffin nodded mutely. "Now, Lady Janet is going to lead us as far as she can. She was blindfolded much of the time, but believes she was kept on the water somewhere. Is that right?"
"Certainly." Lady Janet's head was pillowed contentedly on Leigh's shoulder, but her voice was brisk. She was into her part. "I'll tell you everything I know. I have an excellent sense of direction."
"Fm sure you do. We have another clue." Chester pulled a black-bladed dagger out of his belt. "Considering that it was the focus of last night's ceremony, we can count on its being important. Does anyone recognise the material?"
"Obsidian," S.J. piped up. "Volcanic glass with a composition similar to rhyolite."
"Right," Chester said, smiling approval for once. "And the significance?"
"No opinion. What good is a glass dagger?"
"It tells us that the people we're looking for probably live near a volcano. So what we're looking for is a body of water not too far from a volcanic region. Kasan can help us there. We should have our two replacements pretty quick, and then we'll be back up to full strength. I have an almost perfect group now, and when the fun really begins we should be working together well. Yes, Tegner?"
"Who will the replacements be, and when exactly will they join us?" Griffin asked.
Henderson's gaze was inquisitive. ‘Have you ever been a cop? Or maybe a reporter?" Alex shook his head negative, cursing silently. "Well, they're the Braddons, Owen and Margie. I don't know exactly when they'll show up, but it will probably be within the first hour or so of play. Yes, McWhirter?"
"Do you know what our points are like? I mean, how are we doing?"
Chester didn't look totally happy with the question. "We've lost three people and taken some wounds. We've made a lot of kills, recovered a load of cargo, and rescued Lady Janet. There are other factors involved, but for right now we're ahead. I don't want to discuss how much ahead we are-things can change too fast in a
Game like this one, so I don't want you to feel either cocky or discouraged. Any more questions?"
There were none. Henderson gestured expansively. "Then go and prepare, children. The fun begins in... thirty-five minutes."
Tall, slender palms outlined a patch of lower growth. The crescent-moon-shaped border trailed off from the campground like the tail on a Q. Inside was more tropical jungle, making the "good luck sign" anything but obtrusive. Alex bad bad to get S.J. to point it out.
As Alex pushed through the palms, the vegetation within the border became ghostly, revealing a tiny rectangular structure. No Garners were waiting their turns, praise the Lord, and he'd be invisible to anyone outside the border of trees.
It was very basic inside. Toilet, washstand, towel dispenser.
"Marty?"
"Yeah, Grill. I can barely hear you."
"I'm in the restroom, and there's no window. I'd rather not be overheard, so I'm keeping my voice down. Let's make this fast."
"Okay. What's new?"
"Some new Garners corning in. Husband and wife, named Braddon."
"I'll check them out. Gruff, the Altern tes spend all their time watching the Game and looking for detaIL; and taking notes and discussing strategy. That waiting area is pretty crowded. I don't think anyone could count on a chance to get into Gaming A without being noticed."
"Good. Have you talked to Lopez?"
"Yeah. He doesn't pressure worth a damn. I managed to get him to look at our map. He pointed out two paths around the mountain to the exit, G. A. 18. Lopez says both paths would take the thief past a piece of a big airplane."
"Which piece? Wing, cabin, tail? How big?"
"Piece of a big airplane.' When I tried to get more he told me to get drowned."
Hell. "All right, so if we get to a big airplane I'll watch everybody's faces. Thanks. Anything else?"
"Nope."
"The Griffin, signing out."
Griffin was paired with S.J. as the group waited for the Game to begin. All bedrolls were stowed, all backpacks shouldered and
balanced. The sun shone faintly through the dome that covered Gaming Area A, but the morning was already warm, and the rich aroma of moist jungle greenery was heavy in the air.
At precisely eight o'clock a new sun peeked over the mountain range to the east, sending bands of soft red tone through the scattered clouds dancing above the crest. The old sun faded out. The air filled with the sounds of birds and rustling life. To Griffin's eye even the trees seemed to stand a little straighter.
"All right, people, let's move out!" Chester called, and in pairs the column headed toward the sun.
S.J. kept stride with Griffin by picking up his step until he was almost skipping. The pathway was broad enough for the youngster to shadowfight in zigzag patterns, slicing at the air with his knife. He pulled a slender branch from a tree and skinned it down to a wand. He flicked it like a whip at branches and insects.
Laughing aloud, Griffin tapped him on the shoulder. "That's not exactly stealth you're practicing there."
Breathing a little heavily, S.J. spoke without turning around. "Nope. Don't need it."
"Why not?"
"Lopez won't hit us with anything too nasty until our two replacement Garners have joined up."
Griffin scratched his chin, his fingernails scraping on stubble. "How do you figure that?"
"Easy." S.J. took a couple of lunging thrusts with his wand. "Lopez wants to catch Chester with his pants down. He's not going to take any chances to give Henderson a legitimate beef to take to the I.F.G.S. Getting some of us killed out now might do that. If he wants to get us when we're short he can afford to wait til tomorrow, when we get no more replacements. That way Chester can't squawk. See?" He finished his lecture with a vicious swipe at a butterfly. It evaded easily.
"You know a lot about Gaming, don't you?"
S.J. nodded vigorously. "I'm the best. Even if nobody knows it yet."
"Do you spend a lot of your time Gaming?"
"Not like this. I mean, there's never been anything quite like this before. Even the ordinary Games only come along every couple of months. The first run-throughs, anyway, and they're the most fun. I do a lot of home Gaming. I'm linked up to about five Games: three American, one from Japan and one in the United
African Republic. That last one is weird. Uses Hausa mythology. I tie into them a couple of times a week, see how far the other Garners have pushed the expedition, enter my own moves, and see what happens. Sometimes we arrange for all players to be on line at the same time, so the Game can go on for hours and hours. One of the American Games is a solo: you're playing against the computer, so you can play forever if you like. In general
I like the group Games."
"Why?"
"Gets me ready for Dream Park. I'll be a Lore Master one day. I want to know how units interact."
Units. Did he mean Garners? "You've put a lot of thought into all of this, haven't you?"
"Sure have." S.J. popped a fly out of the air with the tip of his stick. The mutilated insect flopped to the dust and buzzed around in circles. S.J. made an unhappy face and set his heel on it. "I never expect to hit the darn things." He brightened and added, "Must be gettin' better, huh?"
"I guess so. Tell me. What do you do when you're not Gaming? I mean, is this your only social outlet?"
"Why do you ask?"
Griffin shrugged noncommittally. "You seem to put a lot of yourself into Gaming, that's all. I don't know much about all this, and I just wondered how high a price you pay for... well, excellence. Is that reasonable?"
Now it was S.J.'s turn to hunch his shoulders. "I guess so. I've heard all the stuff about people who are into fantasy being reality shuckers. Or maybe it's reality that shucks us. I dunno. Anybody can see that a group of Garners has more than the average proportion of Bizarros. But I don't think Gaming made them that way. Now me... I'm still in school, so I've got the academic trip to worry about. I've got a part time job, so that uses up time too. I guess a lot of the energy that's left over goes into Gaining."
"What does that do to your social life?"
"What's a social life? I mean, do you think I'd be Big Man on Campus if I didn't trot down to Dream Park, or spend my evenings in front of my console? Heck. Most girls think I'm in free fall. Where else but around Garners could I possibly find someone I have anything in common with?"
Griffin chuckled. "Any success there?"
"Some times more than others. This trip, zip." His face lit up. "But I have hope! The Game is yet young."
"Does it make you unhappy to see other people pairing off if you're alone? I felt a little left out last night, for instance. I would think that a war game could be a lonely place sometimes."
"Yeah. Especially at night. When I find a girl who Games, though, I'm going to start getting her into these things. Until then, I'll sneak my thrills when I can get them."
