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 pell-mell 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 I like her. Or I don’t. One or the other.”
“What I love about you is your absolutely fearless self appraisal.”
The Gamers 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 particular 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 fusilages 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 awhile.”
“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 fill 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 Gamers 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 Gaming 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 Acac
ia. Unobtrusively he wandered over to where Dark Star had been standing. Rubbed almost into oblivion, but still discernible, was an immense footprint. It was all 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 Gamers 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 Gamers 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.”
For once Henderson seemed undisturbed by Waters’ enthusiasm. “Significance?”
The Engineer turned the map upside down, and flipped it backwards before placing it right side up again. “Don’t seem to be any markings here .
Chester was tracing a line with his forefinger down what seemed to be a river. The map covered a mountainous region, readily recognizable as New Guinea. “Pre-Inversion,” he murmured. “Anybody see anything interesting here?”
Alex scanned the map carefully from across the table, differentiating the greys and blacks into jungle and plain. “There’s a blank area about the size of a dime right there, in that mountain range.”
Chester’s gaze followed the pointing finger to a pale circle amid a patch of jagged lines. “Maybe someone dripped coffee on it? or water?”
Alex ran his finger lightly over the surface. “Nope. paper’s not rough there. I think that’s our clue.”
Henderson nodded ungrudging admiration. “And I think that you’re right. Well then, if it’s a clue, then . . .” He paused, scratching the three-day stubble on his chin. “If our Illustrious Enemy doesn’t appreciate anyone speaking their names, then just maybe they don’t like anyone to find them, either. A spell intended to make them invisible just might backfire with a photograph, leaving a blank area like this.”
Acacia was still puzzled. “But why a German boat?”
Chester waved it off. “Visual contrast. It tells us where to go. It is in context, though. German spy planes and high altitude cameras would have been ideal for supplemental fly-bys in World War Two. Just a matter of cooperative technology. Kasan, do you recognise this area?”
The little guide hemmed and hawed for a minute, then nodded his head. “And look here, effendi. We have a large body of water. That would fit with what Lady Janet told us.”
“Good, good. Where is this?”
“Hmm . . . I believe there is a volcano in here, but I can’t find it. It may be hidden in the blank spot.”
“May be?” Chester seemed skeptical.
“Let’s not expect too much from a poor native guide, kemo sabe,” he said modestly. “Trust me. It’s there. And if . . . since it’s there, I think we have here a half-day’s march, along the coast, then inland.”
“Excellent. Progress at last.” Chester scooped up the map and curled it, folded it once and stuck it in his backpack.
Holly Frost sniffed the air. “Let’s have a danger read, Boss Man. I don’t like this setup too much.”
“You’re first-level magic. You handle it.”
“Much grass. Hear me, oh gods!” She tried to spread her arms imperiously, but her knapsack was ill balanced, and she had to shift it on her shoulder. She was totally unembarrassed. “Reveal Danger!” A green cloud enfolded her. One edge of the cloud swirled with crimson light.
Chapter Twenty-One
THE HAIAVAHA
The mood in the cabin changed instantly. Oliver was the first to drop his hand to his sword. “Methinks it’s time to split,” he said, peering out of the cabin.
“Right you are,” Chester agreed. “Women and Lore Masters first.” He was out of the cabin in three elastic steps. “Hustle, people,” he called back, scrambling down the ladder. “I’m getting a tingle. It’s coming, and it’s big.”
They bolted after him. Dark Star looked grim, edgy, and Alex found that worrying. He pulled Acacia to the side. “Get ready. Remember what I said.”
“Big monkey time? Monkey shmunkey,” she grinned, drawing her sword. “Just give me something to cut, and I don’t care if it’s King Kong.”
That, of course, had been Griffin’s first thought. “They wouldn’t really hit us with King Kong, would they?”
“I should let you sweat, asking a question like that. Of course not, dumbo. This is New Guinea, not Skull Island, Different mythos.”
“Just asking.” Alex followed Oliver down the ladder, He felt the vibrations as soon as his feet touched the dock. He lifted his arms to help Holly, and she fell back against him.
“Now normally I get along just fine, handsome, but in your case I’ll—”
He felt her cheek, against his, grow taut. “Holy hell. Griffin—”
Alex spun around, and gasped. Two hundred meters away, a light plane of some kind was taking to the air, in pieces. Water surged, and the dock shook with the impact of the waves. A sound that started in the bones and radiated outward, only belatedly recognizable as a bestial snarl, grew in intensity until it hurt their ears. They glimpsed a dark, vaguely manlike figure rising above the water, then sinking again behind a capsized ocean liner. The liner trembled, and the grinding wheeze of shredded steel filled the air.
Oliver flashed a glance at Chester. “What do you think, Ches? How do we tackle it?”
The Lore Master was peering out over the junked vessels with tiny frown lines crinkling his forehead. “We don’t even know what the hell it is. All I know is that that mother’s strong.” He squeezed Gina’s hand hard, and she flinched. “And angry. Honey, how much time do we have before curfew?”
She lifted a naked wrist. “No watch.”
“Just about fifty minutes,” Griffin volunteered.
Chester considered. He looked worried. “I don’t really want to tackle that thing tonight. We’re all a little tired, and I think that Lopez is counting on that. Well, I’m going to surprise him and back off.”
Bowan the Black, face set in a mask of frustration, pushed, his way past Oliver to protest. “What do you mean, ‘back off’ ?”
Chester snapped, “What would I mean, Bowan?”
“I can’t believe I’m hearing you right. This
is the second time you’ve had us turn tail, Henderson. It doesn’t look good on my record.”
“How would being on the receiving end of a massacre look on your record?”
Dark Star had sidled up next to Bowan. She said, “You may not think we can handle it. I do.” She turned to the others. “Anyone else? Shall we do a quick vote?”
“It’ll have to be quick,” Chester said. The thing was wading toward them now, leaving a white wake. A river of water flowed from its fur. Smaller than King Kong, but much larger than a man, it seemed a cross between an ape and a boar, with a boar’s tiny eyes, long snout, and jutting white tusks. Wet, the fur was almost black; but the lank dry fur of its head and shoulders was red, with bright orange and yellow-white tufts. Its arms were disproportionately long; the hands were underwater as it waded straight toward them. Chester said, “We’re short of dithering-time. Okay, I vote we run for it.”
Oliver ground his foot nervously. “Sorry, Chester. I’ve gotta back Bowan on this.”
“Okay. Gwen?”
She held onto Oliver silently. The body language was clear.
Alright, who else?”
Grriffin had chosen. “Follow the Lore Master. Run, but keep looking back. We might learn something.”
“I agree,” said Margie. Owen nodded.
S. J. seemed very unhappy, one thin hand in front of his mouth, brown eyes darting back and forth before he finally moved next to Chester.
He knows something, Griffin told himself. He caught Acacia’s eye and motioned her toward him. She gritted her teeth, but she came.
Holly Frost was watching Griffin with the barest of smiles pursing her lips. The wheels turning in her head were nearly audible. She stepped toward Chester, who nodded his appreciation.
“Alright,” he barked, “no more time for fence-sitters, Decision time, people.” Eames joined Bowan. Tony moved to join Chester. Acacia tried to establish eye contact with Tony, but he ignored her.
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