Dream Park

by Larry Niven;Steven Barnes

  Mary-em grinned rakishly. “Now normally, I love a fight. But I’ll stick with my buddies this time.” She linked arms with Griffin and Holly.

  Chester took a quick count. “That does it. Outvoted, Bowan.”

  The black-garbed figure gripped Chester’s arm and spoke low. “Let me try a spell, Chester? Please? You can start the rest running.”

  Chester’s eyes focussed on the oncoming monster. Abruptly he nodded. “Try it if it’s quick.” His voice rose. “Not much time, people. Gina, put a firebolt into that Quonset hut. The rest of you, head for the slopes.”

  Bowan had turned to face the bay. He breathed deeply, readying himself, and raised his arms.

  Gina called on the gods. Flame lashed from her staff. The Navy Headquarters building whooshed flames from doors and windows.

  Bowan’s voice was impassioned.

  “Oh gods of Darkness, grim and cold,

  Deliver us from Evil’s hold.

  Destroy this ape, whate’er it be,

  And transfer all its power to me!”

  At the sound of the last line, Chester’s head jerked around. “What—”

  Green light formed a halo around Bowan. Green light reached toward the monster in a narrow spear of destructon. The monster snarled and waved a black-taloned fist. The bolt touched its face . . .

  And fire lashed back along its length, as if green light could burn like gasoline. The halo enclosing Bowan flashed from green to yellow-white. They heard the whuff of the fire catching, and then Bowan screaming curses from inside a tremendous candle flame.

  Bowan ran out of curses. He stepped out of the flame and looked upslope, to where the Gamers had stopped to watch. “Chester?”

  There was pallid light around him now; even his robe seemed white, and his face whiter. Behind him the great flame stuttered and died away.

  “You’ve got to help me, Chester!” Bowan called.

  The boar-ape walked up onto the dock. Bowan flinched violently, but it passed Bowan as if he did not exist.

  The Lore Master glanced from Bowan to the advancing beast. He screamed, “No time, Bowan. You’re already dead! Look behind you!”

  Where flame had engulfed Bowan the Black, there stood a neat conical heap of ash with black bones protruding.

  Dark Star tried to run to the slain magician, but Chester caught her by the arm. “Can’t afford to lose you too. Get up the incline, dammit!”

  The monster took one more step towards the fleeing Gamers, then turned ponderously toward the blazing Quonset hut. It disappeared behind the building.

  Chester’s eyes widened as he watched a plume of firelit smoke sucking itself back into the building’s doors and windows. The flames went black—black!—dwindled and were gone, leaving not so much as a soot stain on the corrugated metal.

  “Double damn,” Chester whispered. “Now that’s a trick.” Then, “Oh!”

  He fished into his pocket and pulled out a teardrop shaped crystal, clear as ice, with a blood-red spider frozen in the center. He pointed it at the monster. “Hear me, oh gods! I request a tracer, a mark by which to find this beast on the morrow!” His aura flickered with strain, but the talisman lit from within, the spider crawling sluggishly to life. “Got you,” he grinned at the monster, dropping the crystal back into his pocket. “And tomorrow . . .” He turned and ran, ignoring the dying sound of Bowan’s voice, the milk-pale tindalo still standing with arms outstretched, screaming:

  “Damn you, Henderson! I’ll get you for this! You wait, coward . . .”

  Alex sucked air as if he’d been underwater too long. The ache in his chest was only just beginning to subside. Next to him, Mary-em was bent double, coughing, her ruddy face even darker than usual. These last five minutes he had run while pulling Mary-em along by her sword harness.

  The monster had only given up the chase after the lot of them were totally exhausted. Henderson was on his side in the grass, wiping sweat from his face with a wet, dust-crusted sleeve. Gina lay sprawled beside him, her eyes closed, breath rasping in her throat.

  McWhirter was up and spreading his pack. The Gods knew where he found the energy. He’d been ahead of Alex all the way, even before Mary-em started to fall behind.

  S. J balanced on his knees, dry-retching. He shook his head and looked at Dark Star venomously. Between coughing fits he was mumbling words that Griffin had to strain to hear: “I knew it. I knew I should have blown the whistle on those bastards. I knew it . . .”

  Professional reflexes triggered. Griffin rolled over and stood up, though his head spun. He walked over to S. J. Waters and hovered above him. Waters looked fearfully up into a big black shadow.

  Griffin dropped to his haunches beside the boy. He kept his voice low and matter-of-fact. “Tell me all about it, or we both talk to Henderson.”

  “W-what do you mean?” S. J.’s expression made the protest pitiful.

  “If I can’t get it out of you, maybe Henderson can. You were spying on Bowan and Dark Star. What did you see?”

  Waters seemed to weigh his options. Griffin gave him some time, then started to stand up.

  “Wait! Griffin, if Henderson finds out—”

  “He won’t. Not if you tell it straight.”

  “Sit down before someone notices!”

  Griffin sat.

  “ All right. The first night of the game, everybody was hopping into the woods for some nookie. Hell, man, I just didn’t have anything better to do.”

  So you played peeping tom. You followed them. Why them?”

  “Oh . . . Bowan’s such a . . . I mean, the way he acts, you can’t imagine the mighty sorcerer with his pants off. And Dark Star, why would anyone chase her? I just wondered about them. So I followed them.

  “The only thing was, they weren’t interested in fooling around. They cut across the Gaming area to where the workmen were setting up props and testing the holograms, and they spied. I just spied on them. The workmen turned on the giant monkey and ran it through its paces. I saw Bowan and Dark Star go into a whisper on it, and then they both scampered back to the Daribi village. They’ve been waiting for that thing to show up ever since.” S. J. laughed. “They must have thought it was just a poor man’s King Kong.”

  His face had finally lost some of its beet color. He hunched his shoulders. “Really, that was all there was to it.” His eyes pleaded, and suddenly Griffin felt sorry for him. “Please don’t tell Chester, huh? Honest to God, I wasn’t trying to cheat. I was just lonely and thought I’d have a little fun. Please?”

  What SJ had said seemed to fit the facts. And it helped. Griffin patted his shoulder comfortingly. “I won’t say anything. You just stay out of other people’s business, okay?” The Engineer nodded with all the sincerity he could muster. Griffin stood, walked a few paces away, and flopped.

  Acacia got unsteadily to her feet and walked over to join him. He held out his hand to her; it was clammy and cold with condensing sweat. Her face was streaked with sweat and what looked suspiciously like tears. She hugged him, and said angrily: “God, Lopez made us pay for that.”

  “For running?”

  She nodded. “Can you imagine what that rout is going to look like on tape? I wouldn’t want to be Chester right now.”

  Mary-em’s face turned angry. “What was he supposed to do, Acacia? You saw what that hairy freak did to Bowan.”

  Acacia sank to the ground and stared at her feet.

  They looked like the aftermath of a disaster. Alec was in good condition, but it had been no picnic for him. The damnable thing, the haunting, humiliating thing, was the way Lopez had toyed with them. The monster had remained just close enough to keep them running, and far enough back that they wouldn’t turn and make a stand.

  Henderson was waving the group together with an unsteady hand. “Kasan!” he bellowed. He looked around for the guide. Kasan was having trouble getting up.

  “All right, Kasan. What was it?”

  The little guide kept one hand on his chest and
swallowed air before trying to speak. “I have no clue, bwana. There are many such creature known to us—”

  “Clues? I’ll give you clues. That critter’s fur was the color of fire where it wasn’t wet” Henderson stopped to pant, then: “when Bowan tried to steal its power, it burned him crisp. And we saw it make a fire burn backward. Aren’t those clues? It’s power if fire. What kind of fire demon have you got for us?”

  Ah, Now I believe that I know what that creature was. The legends of my people speak—”

  “Cut the bullshit, dammit.” All heads swung around to face Dark Star, who was wiping the wet from here eyes with the side of a clenched fist. “I just want to know what killed Bowan.”

  Henderson gave her a warning glance, and she bit her lower lip, furious.

  Even Maibang seemed a bit upset. “I was saying that we have a legend that might apply. The Haiavaha—”

  “Nobody gives a good goddamn what its name is. What was it?” She was shaking now, her voice rising almost to a scream. Chester crossed to her in two strides and took her by the shoulders.

  “Now you listen to me, lady. You and Bowan wanted to have at Jumbo back there. In fact, you wanted it so damn bad that it really makes me wonder. I didn’t like it then, and I didn’t like it when Bowan gave us his little prepared incantation. Frankly, I don’t think he’s good enough to come up with that off the cuff. Do you get my drift?” She tried to turn away from him, but his slender fingers bit into her shoulders without mercy. “Now you and I both know that I can’t prove anything. But so help me, if you don’t shut up and let the rest of us play this Game the way it’s supposed to be played, I’ll see to it that you join Bowan the Black.”

  The other players seemed embarrassed for them both. Dark Star nodded her head silently, a single teardrop drooling down her puffy red cheeks. Maibang cleared his throat politely. “Um . . . I was saying that my people have a legend about this creature.” Chester had finally released Dark Star, and had turned to face Maibang. “It is said that centuries ago, Man was forced to eat his meat raw, and lie helpless in the darkness of night. He was denied the secret of fire. Fire was the sole possession of the Gods, who felt that such a gift was more than mere humans could safely control.”

  Chester had his mind back on the Game. “Was there no fire at all on Earth?”

  “Ah, that is where the Monster comes in. Fire could be found in but one Earthly place, the lair of the dread Haiavaha. Whether itself a minor god, or merely a watchdog for the gods, was not known. But when men shivered in the cold, the Haiavaha had warmth. And where men depended upon the coming of dawn to rescue them from the clutches of night, the Haiavaha had somehow gained possession of a small piece of the sun, and kept it burning in its cave.

  “Many men died trying to steal the secret. Then one night a dog was beaten and chased away from the camp for stealing a haunch of pig and insulting the cooking woman. Its master shouted that it could not return unless it could redeem itself. The dog found the cave of the Haiavaha, and, seeing that the creature was asleep, snuck in and stole a burning branch. The monster woke and came after the dog. It ran for its life, the fire burning its mouth horribly. Dogs have not been able to speak since that night. But it escaped the Haiavaha and brought fire to the village.”

  “And ever after Man has had fire. I can guess that much. But if this is the Haiavaha, what does it want from us?”

  Maibang shrugged. “Possibly it is still angry.”

  Chester propped himself on his elbows, thinking. “What about the way it made the fire burn backward?”

  “Our legends do not speak of that at all.”

  “But in that case . . .” A smile spread like a slow dawn over Chester’s long face. “It’s still there to be stolen. Right. You know, it’s a pity that dog couldn’t talk when it got back to the village. You’d’ve stolen it by now.”

  Maibang was grinning too. “I believe we would at that.”

  The Lore Master seemed to be vastly pleased. “Well, it’s a damn good thing that I put a tracer on the Haiavaha. Tomorrow we’ll hunt that thing down.” He stood, stretching

  “Now, people, lef s pitch camp. Uncle Lopez should be providing us with dinner any time now. I think we’ve earned ourselves a little party. What say?”

  A ragged cheer broke out, and the Gamers fell to unpacking. Griffin spread and adjusted his sleeping bag, let the mattress inflate, and flopped.

  A moment later he was pulling himself to his feet. Business. He looked around; nobody was paying attention to him. He sauntered towards the trees. Acacia glanced up and saw him, a mischievious smile curling her lips.

  “Hey there, big fella. If you want to wait a minute, you can have some company.”

  “Modesty forbids, my dear. My kidneys are floating, and an audience freezes the faucet.” She laughed, and nodded, spreading out her sleeping bag next to his. Alex thought warm thoughts.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  THE ELECTRIC PIZZA MYSTERY

  As soon as he was into the woods he fished out his wallet and flipped it on. “Switchboard,” a reedy voice called.

  “Patch me to security. Bobbick. This is Griffin.” Alex put his back to a tree and tried to think. Somehow it was difficult to forget the Foré and the Haiavaha and concentrate on the reality outside Gaming Area A.

  Bobbick’s voice was the link he needed. “Hi, chief. I know you’ve been busy. That’s some pretty rough play.”

  “I’m not sure it’s play at all. Listen, what have you got for me?”

  Bobbick didn’t answer for a second, and Griffin thumped the communicator gently. “You there, Marty?”

  I’m here all right. I just don’t like having to say this. Oh, man. Griff, we’ve definitely got murder on our hands.”

  “Christ,” Alex muttered. He sank his weight back into the tree and waited.

  “Novotney confirmed it. We knew that we had death by suffocation, but there was a possibility that Rice had a cold that blocked his nasal passages. You know how he was always sniffling.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, there just wasn’t enough mucus to block the passages.”

  “I think I can guess the rest. Someone knocked him out, tied him up, gagged him and held his nose shut until he died.” He slapped his forehead with the palm of his hand. “Oh, dammit. I knew there was something I was trying to remember.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Last night. That damn dream. ‘A fine, upright boy.’ ‘He wouldn’t have taken this sitting down.’ Oh good Christ, of course it was murder.”

  Bobbick sounded confused. “Ah . . . I’m not sure follow you, chief . . .”

  “Listen. Rice’s wrists were abraided. We know he was struggling when he died. How the hell did he end up in a sitting position?”

  “What?”

  “Sitting. Sitting, dammit. He was sitting up. If he had been thrashing around, he should have ended up lying on his side, or on his back, or anything. Do you realize how unlikely it is for him to just accidentally end up in a sitting position?”

  Bobbick inhaled sharply. “I see what you mean.”

  Griffin brooded. “I’m going to need to think on this some more. What else do you have for me?”

  “Good news, bad news, and worse news. First, we’ve established the whereabouts of the &rlquo;A’ workers the night Rice was killed, and all of them are clean. Likewise for Maibang. Everyone who took the voice stress test passed with flying colors, but—”

  “Alan Leigh?”

  “He’s clean. I thought you’d cleared him.”

  “I had some second thoughts. But if he passed the voice stress . . . what else?”

  “This Orville Bowan—Bowan the Black is his listing—anyway, he’s refused the lie detector. When I told him we’d have to abort the Game, he laughed and said it would serve Henderson right.”

  “Yeah. I guess that doesn’t surprise me. Forget him, he’s clean.”

  “Great!”

  “So are Dark Star and S.
J. Waters.”

  “Sounds like you’re making progress. Who’s left?”

  Griffin had to count on mental fingers. “Ollie Norliss, his lady Gwen. Not prime suspects, but not in the clear, either. Ah, Tony McWhirter and Acacia Garcia.” He didn’t like having to say that, but it was true. Masculine vanity aside, why was she sticking so close to the Griffin? “And Mary Martha.”

  “Mary-Martha Corbett?”

  “That’s the one. I’m not sure about her. She’s been in Gaming A before. Pulling a little bit of industrial spying off might just amuse her. And that about does it.”

  “Okay, one more thing,” Bobbick said. “Millicent did some back checking. She was curious about Rice’s college life. She got hold of the Sulphur University newspapers for his residency. Guess what?”

  “What?”

  “The face on the statue. We found it. It belonged to one Sonja Prentice, a co-ed who went to school with him. Griff , she committed suicide just two months before Rice left college. Now, what was her statue doing in Rice’s apartment?”

  Alex mulled it. It wouldn’t be that startling a coincidence . . . “No opinion. I wish we could ask Rice.”

  Griffin returned to the campground to find that Kibugonai had ferried in a case of cold beer, and Maibang was lugging a crate into the inner circle. When they levered it open, Gamers broke into unabashed applause.

  There were loaves of hot garlic bread and six tremendous wheels of pizza with varied toppings.

  Owen Braddon smacked his lips. “You know, there’s one thing about Lopez. He may fry you or drown you, but he’ll never let you starve.”

  A line formed, and disintegrated in laughing wrestlers, and re-formed.

  “There had better be one in there without anchovies,” the Lore Master laughed, “or I’m gonna lodge a complaint.” He seemed cheerful enough, considering the beating he had taken today. Was he that sure of tomorrow’s target? or was it just good politics?

  Griffin joined the line. He tried to find the spot inside him that hadn’t been shaken by Bobbick’s news. The smile he wore was strictly off the rack, and it wouldn’t hold long against Acacia’s prying.