by Larry Niven
"Yeah. Don't make mistakes. You can see how easy that is. There are just too many ways to die in this Game. Think about it:
how have we lost people? Riddles, monsters, natural hazards, gunshot..."
"You know, that doesn't sound like you, Cas. Where's the get up and go?"
"It got up and went. I know I'm acting strange, dammit, and I don't really understand it, either." She kicked a pebble out of the way, dark eyes following it as it skipped across the road and vanished over the edge: not falling, but suddenly gone, kicked beyond the hologram illusion of a misty chasm at their feet.
"Listen. What if I told you that if you keep your chin up you'll get a surprise tonight?"
"Gary-I told you that we shouldn't take things any further. There's been enough trouble."
"I'm not talking about trouble. Just a little harmless fun."
"Harmless, huh? Fun? Just what do you have in mind?"
"Everything but."
"But what?"
"But taking things any further. We can go as far as we went, can't we?"
She squinted an eye at him. "And what about Tony? If we're off alone together somewhere not taking things any further, we might as well be screwing."
That word was a jolt. Alex thought it over. "You're right either way. Okay, either we don't go off alone at all or we take things wherever they go. How's that sound?"
"Indecisive. Gary-"
There was a sudden jolt as the line came to a halt. On a ledge seven feet above the trail, there stood a slender dark figure. At first Alex was reminded of Millicent: the short, tightly-curled hair, the delicious figure and the skin tones were all similar. But this woman was nearly a foot taller than little Millie, and Millie would never have been found in that bold, challenging stance.
She wore buckskin boots and beige leather pants with a copper-buckled belt. She wore a red vest over a beige blouse, and carried a businesslike dagger in a fast-draw sheath high on her left side. The knapsack on her back rode as if weightless. She stood fists on hips, legs spread apart and braced firmly. Alex found her beautiful. His lips pursed into an automatic whistling position.
"Who is she?" he asked Acacia.
"I think I saw her at the Gamer selection proceedings, but I don't know the name or the rank."
The tall woman jumped down from the ledge. A miniscule wobble spoiled the illusion of a perfect landing. Chester greeted her. "Holly Frost, I presume?"
"You've got it, lover. Second-level Thief, first-level Magic User, and generally excellent lady." She dusted off her buckskins by knocking them against each other. "And it looks like I arrived just in time. What have we here, a zombie march? I don't see a bright face in the bunch. What the hell, maybe I should join the other team-" She turned as if to walk away, then turned over her shoulder and smiled slyly.
"On the other hand, since I obviously have no competition here, maybe I should stick around, accrue a few points, steal somebody's old man..."
There wasn't a sound from the other Garners, although a few mouths hung open in shock. Then Mary-em pushed Bowan out of the way and waddled over to Holly, gazing up at her like a demolition man examining a condemned skyscraper.
"Think you're pretty hot, do you, treetop?"
"I know it, grandma."
Mary-em drummed her fingers on her waist for a few moments, then her crinkled face split with a grin. "It's high time we had some new blood. These lackards are slacking off already. Think you can roust things up a bit?"
"Or know the reason why."
"Good enough." The little woman stuck out a grimy hand, and they shook. "Name's Mary-em, but you can call me Mary-em."
"Done." Holly looked at Chester. "You're the man. Let's get this show back on the road!"
In spite of himself, Henderson's tired face lit up, and there seemed to be new bounce in his step. "All right, group, you heard the lady. Let's do it!"
"I want her with me," Mary said. She glared at Bowan. "Why don't you find yourself another perch, sonny?" She pulled Holly in next to her. "You better be able to sing, honey, or I'm going to intimidate you half to death."
Holly slapped her on the back. "Do you know ‘Friar Malone'?" Their mood was infectious. Soon the entire line was moving at a brisk pace, singing a tale of the unlucky persona of an unskillful Gamer of bygone days.
"Through dungeon and city Both ugly and pretty
Went the brave lawful Cleric named Friar Malone.
He whirled his warhammer ‘Gainst the vampire's glamour
Crying, ‘Down with the Demon Undead, Undead, ohi"
Alex noted that Acacia's expression was no longer strained, and he was happy. It seemed that everything was right again, that the mission would be successful, that- How could he have forgotten Rice? None of this was real; not the mountains, nor the mists, nor the warm arm of the woman at his side, nor the happiness he had felt a moment ago. But Rice was real; Rice's bound corpse was real. And the Garners sang with no sign of grief:
"But a Succubus found him And in her lair bound him
And became the foul death of brave Friar Malone.
Now his ghost stalks the barrow That he tried to harrow, Crying, ‘Down with the Demon Undead, Undead Oh!"
But death had been real for Rice, and Griffin would not forget it again.
The trail wound down out of the mountains, cramping them between masses of granite. Presently it rounded a tight turn, and GriffIn and Acacia stepped out of shadow into a view of sand dunes and ocean.
Acacia gave a low whistle, and Alex felt her hand tighten on his. The Garners had stopped and spread out.
Downslope was a semicircle of bay. It must have been deeper once. The line of Quonset huts along the sandy shore had once been Navy docking facilities. The docks were high and dry now, and the buildings deteriorated, and the harbor must have been two to three meters deep.
The water was littered with boats and pieces of boats, broken airplanes both military and commercial, ruined machinery of every description. Angular shapes halfway to the horizon might have been the bows of luxury liners sunk almost beneath the water. One of the military aircraft had the grinning jaws of a shark painted on its nose, others showed a fading red sunburst. There was even one boat-about ten meters in length, standing on its keel as it leaned against its rotting dock-with swastikas emblazoned on its flank.
The killer had crept past a big airplane on his path to Rice
and the neutral scent. Now, which Gamer was giving undue attention to the mired and broken airplanes? Trouble was, everyone was intently studying the harbor, except the Griffin, who was fruitlessly studying them.
"Now what in the world is a Nazi patrol boat doing in the Pacific?" Holly Frost murmured to Acacia.
Chester was conferring with Maibang. Acacia called, "We want in on this, Ches."
Chester nodded agreement. "That sounds fair. Let's gather round, people." The Garners crowded around the Lore Master, and he tapped Kasan on the head. "You're on."
Kasan Maibang was nodding to himself. "I have heard of this place, but never seen it. Have you, Lady Janet?"
The small blonde nodded her head, then shook it. "Not actually saw, but I think I was brought through here on the way to the Mission. You know, for the sacrifice?"
The little man's eyes were bright, and his grin managed to convey mystery and menace at the same time. "I think that the lady may be right. In truth, this place smells of evil, smells of our enemies. This is the Sea of Lost Cargo, where our enemy lures European transportation and robs them."
"I want a close look at those buildings," Chester said. "Then What's the matter, Fortunato?"
McWhirter had been shaking his head as he studied the harbor. "They don't look quite..."
"The ships and planes? Most of them are holograms. Why not? We can't get to them anyway. There won't be more than one or two solid mockups." Chester pointed. "Like that Nazi ship. Stands out, doesn't it? Almost whistles for our attention. I think we'll search there nex
t. Very carefully."
Gina sidled up to him. "Danger, Ches?"
"You can bet half your points on it. We'll split into groups once we're down there. One group goes in, one guards." He glanced at Holly. "Well, lady, we get to test you out a bit early. Are you up to it?"
She said nothing, but licked her lips eagerly. Mary-em fairly vibrated in place.
Alex nudged his companion. "Looks like Mary-em's met her match."
"That'll take some doing. We'll see."
The Gamers spilled downhill. Griffin felt vaguely surprised to find that the incline was real. Curiously, he was more disoriented than he would have been if everything had been illusion. He looked above himself, at the mountains they had just crossed, and wondered: How much of that was real? And didn't know.
His unease vanished with the childish pleasure of running pellmell down the slope, always just on the verge of toppling forward. Behind him, S.J. dived into a roll and tumbled to the bottom, whooping. He sprang to his feet, shook the dirt from his hair and adjusted the straps on his backpack. "Wow, that was fun!" He ran halfway up the slope again and tumbled back down, bouncing to his feet like an elf shot out of a cannon.
When everyone had reached bottom, Chester began ticking people right and left. "S.J., Oliver, Panthesilea, Griffin, Dark Star,
and... Holly Frost. You come with me. And Maibang. The rest of you stay with Kibugonai and Lady Janet. We're going in."
"Well all right," Holly said, her face deadly serious. Her eyes gleamed as they roamed the aged buildings that lined the docks. She and Griffin were the tallest people in the group, and she gravitated toward him naturally. "You're the Griffin," she said, appraising him. "I saw the spear cast you made on the Nibek. Not bad at all."
"Mildly spectacular. Your name's Holly? This is Panthesilea." Acacia smiled at Holly with an edge of challenge. "This is your first big outing?"
"My first ‘first run'. I've done my share of straight Gaming." The tall black girl noticed the way Acacia moved closer to Alex, and clucked loudly. "No need to get possessive, honey. I haven't even decided if I want him yet."
Acacia couldn't seem to decide how to react to that comment. "As soon as you make up your mind, clue me in, will you?"
"You'll be the second to know." There was a broad flash of teeth, and Holly pivoted on her heel to investigate the other members of the group.
"I'm not sure why," Acacia said softly to Alex, "but I think 1 like her. Or I don't. One or the other."
"What I love about you is your absolutely fearless self-appraisal."
The Garners moved in two clumps toward the docks. Bowan the Black's "Reveal danger!" generated only a wash of green light. Nothing threatened them, then... except the passive danger of the rotted wood they walked on.
The years had not been kind to the long arc of wood-and-concrete docks, nor to the Quonset huts and smaller wooden structures. But Griffin noticed anomalies. Every line and cable was neatly coiled, ready for use and rotting in place. Winch machinery was rust-free, oiled and polished. A riveted metal tank on stilt legs showed freshly painted letters:
AIRCRAFT FUEL
"Chester, this place isn't abandoned."
"I know, Griffin. We'll have to watch for the owners coming back. And ask ourselves why this place isn't guarded. Meanwhile
that building?"
No need to point. Everyone had already noticed that one par-
ticular Quonset hut. It might have been built yesterday. The metal gleamed. In the walk that led to the front entrance, some of the wood planks had been replaced.
Gina cast another Reveal Danger. Nothing.
The first team went in. The rest hovered at the entrance, ready for emergencies.
It had been the Administration Building. Wooden walls had blocked it off into cubicles with desks. Most of the partitions had been torn out. The desks were still there, but most of them had been lined against one long wall. But the papers and coffee cups and ash trays were still on the desks, some neat, some messy; and the desks had been dusted. The great expanse of concrete floor had been swept recently.
The floor was cluttered with... well, stuff. As if children had played here, Griffin thought, while the teacher was gone.
There were big, sweeping patterns drawn on the concrete: a good representation of the dockyard and shoreline, in green paint, and an airfield overlaid in brown paint on the bay itself. There were a dozen malformed little figurines made from gourds and tubers and wood. There were flocks of toy ships and airplanes, a rich variety of them. Some were crude representations with bamboo hulls or gourd fuselages and wings of clipped leaves; but other craft looked like they had been bought in American toy shops, or built for the offices of naval and air force officers. A "table ritual", candles and clean tablecloth and fresh flowers and cans of corned beef and Spam, had been carefully arrayed on a big desk with four desk chairs around it.
"A cargo cult magician's workshop," Holly Frost said. "If we desecrate this place, we'll put them out of business for a while."
"Yeah," said Chester. "Maibang, how would we go about... Skip it." He went to the big front entrance and shouted, "Margie!"
"Chester?"
"See if there's any fuel in that tank we passed. Find a can and if! it up. Take Eames. The rest of you, start tearing up the boardwalks for wood. Desecrate be drowned! We're going to burn this place."
"Chester?"
"Yeah, Griffin?"
"We don't want a bonfire advertising our presence."
"I know that. We'll set up the fire and touch it off just before we leave."
Oliver and Dark Star moved among the desks, looking for anything that might turn up. S.J. began arranging a bonfire with wood handed to him through the entrance. Tony called from a far corner of the building: "Chester? Two cases of Coca-Cola."
"Save a bottle for each Gamer. Smash the rest," Chester directed. Tony began smashing bottles with his gun butt.
Presently Eames and Margie were back with three big gasoline cans. Margie was glad enough to relinquish her heavy can to Griffin. He began splashing the fluid across the painted map of harbor and airfield.
It didn't smell.
He splashed a bit on his hand and sniffed at it. Nothing. He touched his tongue to it.
Water?
He looked up-and half a dozen Garners were looking at him in disgust. Griffin continued distributing the "gasoline". He felt like an idiot. Of course Dream Park wouldn't permit a huge bonfire in Gaining Area "A". The fire, when it came, would be a hologram.
The small Nazi ship leaned drunkenly above them as Chester's group stood looking up. The remaining Gamers followed to within twenty feet, and stopped. They were well trained.
The ship didn't look all that stable.
"Forward bow," S.J. said. "I bet if someone gave me a lift up I'd find a rope ladder, and-"
"No need," Chester told him. "There are hand holds set in the side amidships. You can do the honors as soon as I make a scan." He raised his arms and chanted his incantation.
Griffin found himself looking around at the others instead of watching the emerald fireworks. Someone else wasn't paying much attention, either.
Dark Star was pretending to watch Chester, but she was carefully rubbing something out with her foot. He watched her slow, subtle grinding motion, almost as if she were putting out a cigarette. Then she shifted her balance to one foot, locked her hands behind her back, and waved the inverted fist back and forth.
Alex glanced back. Bowan was watching her hands intently. A signal, then. Signalling what?
When the green glow faded, S.J. mounted the metal ladder and
climbed aboard. "All clear here, Admiral," he called, and disappeared from view. Dark Star was fourth in line to board, and Griffin arranged to be last.
"Just a second," he whispered to Acacia. Unobtrusively he wandered over to where Dark Star had been standing. Rubbed almost into oblivion, but still discernible, was an immense footprint. It was a
ll he could do to stifle a yell of surprise.
He scrambled up after Acacia, enjoying an excellent view of her trim posterior. She helped him on board, and he drew her firmly over to the side.
"Acacia, why would you hide a clue?" Acacia looked puzzled, and he rephrased. "What I mean is, if you saw a sign that indicated danger to the group, would you have any conceivable reason for not telling the rest of us?"
She thought about it. "Well... I'd be lowering the chances of survival for the other players. That would mean fewer people to divide the group bonus with. If we won."
"Hmm... is that all?"
"Well, if you were the only one who knew what was coming, you'd have a better chance to prepare a plan of action. You'd look really good once the feathers started flying. I guess you know that the Garners vote a special point bonus for Best Player. Then there are points for bravery..."
"Any monetary incentive?"
"Only indirectly. When you've accumulated enough points to be a Game Master or Lore Master, then you can start making money." Her words held an unspoken question.
"I'll tell you later. Just keep on the lookout for a big monkey." "Say what-?"
Oliver came for them. "Come on, guys. Things are hotting up." Acacia reached out and stroked Oliver's chin, feeling the three-day growth of beard. "You look terrifically fierce, amigo. I bet Gwen loves it."
He playfully brushed her hand off. "Come on," he grinned. They followed the Warrior into the cabin, where most of the Garners were busy searching. Griffin noted that Dark Star cast frequent worried glances out of the windows.
A steel door stood open in the back of the cabin, and narrow metal stairs led down into darkness. Maibang climbed out of the gloom, followed by Chester.
"I think we may have something," he said, waving a roll of
paper. "We found it wedged behind one of the engines." They cleared dust and twisted scraps of metal from a table top and spread out the scroll. Chester arched a single thin eyebrow. "A map..."
S.J. was squeezing his head between Chester and the table, and his little brown eyes lit up. "Aerial survey map, chief."
