The Moon Maze Game dp-4

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The Moon Maze Game dp-4 Page 19

by Larry Niven


  Hamm tsked twice to activate his com link. “Communications,” he said. “Kendra. Boss, we’ve got a problem here…”

  Ishikura’s plump, slightly crooked little mouth drew into a tight, thin line as he listened to the communicator. He looked up at Kendra. “We have a problem. There seems to be a bomb wired to the door, from the other side. We’d need to put someone in from the aquifer side to see what we’re dealing with.”

  “And for obvious reasons, that presents a difficulty,” Kendra said.

  Gaming central, the domain of Xavier and his crew, was only minimally less panicked than the rest of Heinlein base. Kendra and her people entered it in a phalanx.

  Xavier’s fury gave him subjective height. “I demand to know what exactly is going on.”

  “We need to talk,” she said.

  His smile was pale and humorless. “You go first.”

  The gaming stage was deserted now, and all of the Lunies and Earthers who had gathered to participate in the adventure of a lifetime were sitting with expressions ranging from anger to impatience to fear.

  “As you can see,” Kendra was saying, “all of the primary power and communications conduits have been cut. But the negotiations with the IFGS included some new redundant systems designed to protect their investment during the broadcast event.”

  Xavier blinked, and for the very first time, confusion rather than arrogance shaped his face. “Are you saying that I can conduct the game? I would think that a dozen kidnappers in there might have an opinion about that.”

  Kendra sighed. “You aren’t hearing me. Look. This is a map of the dome. These people sealed all the external exits, but they apparently came in through the aquifer, and sealed that exit behind them. We believe it can be reopened. On our side, the door has apparently been mined, but could be disarmed-from their side. If we can get our gamers to the aquifer, I believe we can get them home.”

  The little man’s eyes narrowed. “And just how, exactly…?”

  Kendra pointed to the lights. “Kill those, please.”

  The lights came down, and an expanded map of the gaming dome appeared, a grid of lines and pipes and glowing conduits.

  “This,” she said, “is a map of the dome as it was originally configured. These plans were filed during initial construction. But in the last three weeks, partially as a result of your petition to the IFGS, Xavier,” she nodded to him, “some additional systems were added.”

  “Just power systems for the illusions, and communications…”

  Wu Lin chimed in. “And the backup video system.”

  “What are you trying to say?” Xavier asked.

  “The gaming system is less compromised than the main communications and environment systems. We think the kidnappers might not have neutralized all of it.”

  The air swirled with dome schematics. Xavier walked into the middle of it, absorbing, sniffing deeply, as if able to sense the information directly, much as he did the gaming data. He grinned, and laughed. And once he started laughing, couldn’t seem to stop.

  At last Kendra couldn’t hold her irritation any longer. “May I ask what you find so amusing?”

  Xavier couldn’t answer, he was doubled over, holding his sides. Kendra looked at Wu Lin. “Do you mind letting me in on this?”

  The Chinese girl smiled. “It is very simple.”

  “Elucidate.”

  “Xavier feared that the game was over. Instead, it seems that things have just begun.”

  Xavier wiped the back of his hand across his eyes. “Yes, if they have the wits to take the first move. I know her. Angelique’s idea of a curveball is dragging an old boyfriend to the party. She will fold under pressure.” He laughed again.

  “She needs a miracle.”

  Navigating a narrow space between two egg-like structures, Darla crawled, so frightened she had to struggle to remember what the hell she was doing. “Think, think.”

  She scooted around, squeezing between the bubbles, feeling with her fingers. There was virtually no light, except a few threads where someone had drilled holes in the bubble, then sealed them with translucent epoxy. She glimpsed people moving, talking. Planning. Moving.

  She pressed her ear to the side of the bubble, and could hear muffled voices, followed by silence. Then babble, softer now.

  She felt around until she found the edge of a rounded trap door, and pushed against it. She pulled a Swiss Army-style multitool from her side pocket. One of the blades was a knife. She sliced through a layer of sprayed plastic.

  All right, Mama. Let’s just see what hope gets me.

  The air reeked of fear, as thick as oily rain. Scotty Griffin wrenched at his plastic cuffs again and again, and when he rested the torn skin for a minute before his next effort, spent the time weighing his options. None of them was very good.

  “These cuffs are pretty standard law-enforcement plastic. We could probably-” He stopped as he heard the floor open. “What the hell?”

  A chubby, redheaded vision appeared, her game makeup smeared.

  “Darla?” Wayne asked. She wiggled her way up into the room.

  “Wayne?” she said. “Is everyone all right?”

  “Compared to what?”

  “Can you cut us loose?” Sharmela asked, dark round face anxious.

  Mickey cleared his throat. “I’m not so sure about that. We don’t want to antagonize these people. Those air guns look like they’d blow a hole right through you.”

  Maud winced. “Michael, you are such a coward. Sometimes I can’t believe Papa let me marry you.”

  “Probably couldn’t wait to get you out of the bleedin’ ’ouse.”

  “Young lady. Darla? If you can cut my cuffs and leave his attached, there’s a fiver in it for you.”

  Darla managed to smile. “Can’t do that.”

  “One does one’s best. Ah, well… tell me. Is there anywhere to go?”

  “Yes. So let’s see about the cuffs.” She examined one, then took her multitool and selected a soldiering torch. “Plastic,” she said.

  “You’re a tech.”

  “Bet your baby blues,” Darla said. “Built this dome. Thought it would be fun to play here.” She shook the tool and grinned ruefully. “Don’t leave home without it,” she said.

  Darla melted through the first cuff. The stench was sharp, acrid.

  “This will take too long,” Scotty said. “We need to get out of here before they come back. They’ll smell burnt plastic. Where can we go?”

  “When we built the dome,” Darla said, “there were spaces between the bubbles. Interstitials. We put trap doors in some of them. Just places to squirrel away to without anyone seein’. Real privacy. Not much of that up here.”

  Scotty blinked. “Make me understand.”

  “Imagine a bowl filled with… I don’t know, darlin’. Cherries. Cherries and oranges and limes. That’s the way the domes were when we filled them with bubbles.”

  He could visualize that. “So if we crawl between the bubbles…”

  “I can get us to another bubble, maybe one where we can hunker down.”

  “Then jam the door,” Scotty said. “Start getting them out the hatch while I work on… Wayne’s handcuffs. You up to it?”

  Wayne nodded. “Let’s move before I come to my senses.”

  Mickey shook Maud’s hand off his arm. “Wait just a minute.”

  “Asako?” Sharmela said, suddenly grasping.

  “Exactly.”

  “She can’t exactly prowl around in the spaces between bubbles, can she?”

  Asako’s mechanized voice cut through their babble. “Don’t talk about me as if I’m not here,” she said. “Don’t worry about me. They won’t see me as a threat. I should be all right. Don’t tell me your plans, and don’t you dare wait.”

  Angelique raised her fingers over the glass dome sheltering the woman. “Asako. Are you sure…?”

  “Go,” she said.

  In the “green room” bubble 37-C, things see
med to have begun to stabilize.

  Shotz regarded Ali, who stood leaning against the wall, cuffed hands at his belly. “Are you comfortable?”

  Ali ignored the question. “When will you release us?”

  Shotz’ expression never changed. Perhaps he had never expected this question to be answered. “I’m afraid that you cannot be freed until… this entire matter is complete.”

  “How do you intend to escape? Surely you don’t believe that you can sneak out of here and all the way back to Earth?”

  “Are you comfortable?” Shotz’ head inclined slightly to the left, so that, momentarily, he was peeking out from under blond bangs. “Whether you believe it or not, I harbor no animosity toward you. You would be best served by courtesy and cooperation.”

  A pause. Then Ali hung his head, the moment of defiance passed. “I am fine. Thank you for asking. I will require water, food, air and a toilet. And if at all possible, I would prefer to be with my friends.”

  “The last, I cannot provide. The other requests I allow.”

  In various locations around the dome on levels A through D, members of Neutral Moresnot linked into various networks, snipped wires, set up com field disruptors, severed computer connections. Took readings. Then, their assigned tasks completed, they nodded with satisfaction, and headed back to bubble 37-C.

  Celeste, Shotz and a bodybuilder called Gallop entered the green room. Ali watched them, fantasizing about bloody murder. Despite all efforts to protect him, he’d heard rumors of his grandfather’s early days.

  “We’ve got everything under control,” Celeste said. “Time to send the first message.” Shotz nodded, and Celeste clicked her teeth, then spoke into a throat mike.

  “Phase one complete,” she said.

  While the threat level was raised to red around Heinlein base, Douglas Frost remained on duty in the poultry area. When a light blinked on his wrist communicator, he sighed. The air rushing out tasted foul. “I need to take a break,” he said.

  His boss’ face twisted in an expression that, on another day, might have been thought a smile. Everyone seemed stretched thin that day. “Sure, Thomas.”

  Doug grinned. No, no one could tell them apart.

  The main communications node was only five minute’s Moonwalk from the farm. He sat, slid a data clip into the input slot, and waited as it called an interplanetary prefix and access number. Doug knew it was sending a photograph across a quarter-million miles of space to a satellite circling Earth. And from there to a certain General Motabu, currently commanding the rebel forces storming a certain Central African palace.

  The game was going very well indeed.

  Scotty and the gamers crawled through the sterile, micro-dust coated spaces between the bubbles. The air in those dark curved spaces felt cold and confining. Above and between the bubbles, tunnels had been grafted like vines in a tropical forest.

  “How far does this passage go?”

  “They kept changing as we reinforced and added the safety baffles,” Darla said. “But even though we weren’t finished, it was up to code, and we could authorize Cowles to run this game.”

  Scotty mopped sweat from his face. “The short answer?”

  “I can get us about halfway down. Hopefully, we can figure it out from there.”

  She felt around the walls until she found her trap door. She cut through the plastic inner lining. Then they climbed up into the bubble.

  The walls within were broken bubbles. A few of them still had grubs curled within. The floor was inscribed with a variety of curlicue patterns.

  “What is this place?” Scotty asked.

  Darla shook her head. “Don’t really know.”

  Angelique frowned. “What do you mean, you don’t know?”

  “Xavier didn’t tell us everythin’, just what we needed to play our parts. My part’s already over.”

  Sharmela was crouching down near the floor. “This is very strange. The power is off, but… do you see this?”

  “See what?” Angelique asked.

  “The indicators. The gaming indicators are still on.”

  “That’s strange. They must be on a different circuit.”

  “Or even independently powered,” Scotty said. “Angelique. What do you know about this?”

  “Standard procedure,” the Lore Master said. “Backups in case of failure.”

  “Is that some kind of safety arrangement?”

  Wayne managed a chuckle. “It’s a gambling thing. A lot of money rides on these games, and that means that everything has to be recorded. If the signal fails, and there aren’t backups, a lot of bets will forfeit. Is that important?”

  “Maybe. It depends. I’m thinking that we can’t communicate directly with Heinlein… but there might be a way to talk with Xavier. And…”

  “Cameras,” Wayne said.

  Scotty frowned. “What?”

  Angelique pointed to the ceiling, to the corners of the room. “There are cameras everywhere, not just the security stuff. Resolution of the three-dimensional images requires… well, I don’t know the tech on it, but my guess is that they are on independent power. Low-power pinpoint cameras all wired into the central com field. Probably some hardwired backup as well. We’re probably guessing in the right direction if we assume that Xavier can see us.”

  “Which means that they can help us, even if they can’t talk to us,” Scotty said.

  “We might be able to fix that,” Darla said. “But first things first. We have to get out of the dome.”

  “Not without Ali,” Scotty said.

  Angelique squinted. “What is it with you two? Is he your boyfriend, or…?”

  “I’m his bodyguard.”

  “This one’s gonna look great on your resume,” Wayne said.

  Scotty repressed an urge to remove Wayne’s front teeth.

  “Griffin,” Angelique said. “I know that you have obligations to your client. But I have obligations to my ass. We have a little miracle here: Darla can get us the hell out. The kidnappers got what they want. We can skedaddle on out of here. Or you can stay behind, and rescue him. But I’m getting my people out of here.”

  “Not to mention your ass.”

  “Not to mention.”

  “I completely understand your position,” Scotty said. “Just help me figure this place out. Where I am relative to where we were? And if there is a way out, how do I get to it?”

  “There are at least two emergency suits,” Darla said. “Know how to use them?”

  “Spent two years up here. Where are the lockers?”

  “Down on D level. Look.”

  She bent, wet her finger and drew on the floor in dust. “This is the dome. It’s been divided into eight levels, with about a hundred bubbles distributed between them. Seven of the levels are above ground: A through G. H is underground, in the foundation just above the aquifer level. We were on level C… in fact, we still are. Most of the gaming was going to be on C, with some lesser action on D through H, and the climax down in the aquifer. That’s where we were supposed to exit, and I’m hoping we can still get out. But there are emergency exits here-and here.” Again, she dabbed at the ground with a moist finger.

  “All right. I’ll take my chances.”

  “Alone?” Wayne asked.

  “Alone.” Scotty stood up. “I have to go after Ali.”

  Angelique cocked her head. “I don’t hear anything. I don’t think they know we’re gone yet. You’ve got a narrow window until they check on us again.”

  “What are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking that Ali deserves a chance.”

  “I’m thinking about him,” Sharmela said. “And about Asako.”

  “We had to leave her.” She paused. “Didn’t we?”

  “Maybe she doesn’t have to stay left,” Scotty said. “Does anyone here read… Morse?”

  “I was a Girl Scout,” Angelique said. “I can. What do you have in mind?”

  “I want to talk to Xav
ier. But first we have to see if he’s watching us.”

  26

  Breach?

  In gaming central, the light from the central monitor washed over Wu Lin’s face, making it appear even longer and paler than usual.

  “So they made it out,” Kendra said. “Where are they?”

  “Scans shows human bodies in a bubble two rooms away from the kidnappers,” Wu Lin replied.

  “Can they get out from there?”

  “Perhaps,” Xavier said. “Perhaps. If you look at these earlier vids, you can see this woman-”

  “I know her. Wu Lin? Face rec.”

  “Darla Kowsnofski, structural engineer.”

  “Thank you, Wu Lin. That’s a very good thing. She seems to know her way around the dome. She might be able to get them out. I wish we could talk to them.”

  “It’s a miracle we can-”

  “Xavier?” Wu Lin said. “We’ve been watching the gamers, and I think something is going on. They’re trying to make contact.”

  Kendra was at her side in an instant. “Have we got sound?”

  “We can,” Xavier said. “Pipe gaming auditory auxillary ‘A’ into the main channel.”

  There was a moment of silent anxiety, and then Angelique appeared in the air, waving her hands at the camera. Her hands gestured: palm-palm-palm, fist-fist-fist, palm-palm-palm.

  “What is she doing?” Xavier asked.

  “Morse code,” Kendra said. “Scotty and I met through an aviation club, and we both loved the twentieth-century stuff. Pilots used Morse for their VHF omnidirectional range navigation systems. Let me have the switch.”

  In response to Kendra’s urging, the light in the gaming dome began to pulse.

  In the creche bubble, lights flashed on and off in what first seemed a random sequence, and then settled into a recognizable pattern of dots and dashes.

  Scotty grinned. “That’s Kendra’s fist. Great. We’ve got contact.”

  In the bubble where Ali was being held, the Kikayan heir watched Gallop and a thin man named Miller wedge explosives charges against the wall. “I hope your people know what they’re doing,” he said.

 

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