by Larry Niven
"She fits many of the classic patterns. It would explain a lot. Her psychological tests from as far back as college imply a cyclical depression centering around March. Her parents were separated in April of '47. I'd bet that the surgical procedure was performed sometime in March of Sharon Crayne's fourteenth year. Her family was destroyed by the incident. Typical of incest victims, Sharon may well have blamed herself."
"And this might give a blackmailer material?" Harmony asked. "That she was an incest victim?"
For the first time Vail looked annoyed. "I would have thought bribery, not blackmail. If no legitimate private-party query can break through Embryadopt's legal shield, and even computer theft would fail, someone who could deliver such data would have an irresistible lure. Sharon lost a family over this trauma and has never been able to sustain another relationship. Every year, on the anniversary of the operation, she plunged into depression, regretting her past and yearning to see that child. Someone with the right connections, and no scruples at all, might just be able to find that child of incest and rage. And offer Sharon Crayne her salvation."
Dr. Vail studied his fingernails for a moment before continuing. "Sharon Crayne stole something from Dream Park's files? Something of great value?"
"Great, but limited," McWhirter said. "A partial map of MIMIC's defense system. It will be obsolete in a month."
"And this rapid obsolescence implies it was needed in connection with California Voodoo?"
Harmony was aghast. "Cold-blooded murder over a game!"
Vail smiled coldly. "How much money is at stake, Thaddeus?"
McWhirter said, "Six hundred thousand gets someone four million dollars."
"Which team?"
"Army."
"That makes sense… perhaps." Vail closed his eyes. "Let me think. Sharon was prepared to exchange her stolen data for… something. My first guess would be information that the child was all right. But that just isn't enough. She could probably have gotten that through Embryadopt."
"Millicent and I have looked at her finances," Harmony said cautiously. "Sharon Crayne owned a house in Salt Lake which she rented out most of the time. She had nearly half a million in equity in that house. Another eighty thousand in the bank, a hundred and fifty thousand in various investments. At first we just thought this interesting, and considered it more evidence of her invulnerability to bribery."
"You see something else?"
Millicent said, "She didn't use the house. She's got orate fur coat and a four-year-old Chrysler. She's got stocks, but she didn't play with them."
"She's not spending it," Vail said. "So let's stop looking at the house as a house, and look at it as a savings account. In that case she has a total of three-quarters of a million dollars in savings, and an emotional hunger to be reunited with the child she gave up. If money wouldn't get it for her directly, but she met someone who could give her information she needed, then that money could be used to, say, purchase a new life with her child."
"And a good life, too," Millicent mused. "But she would have to destroy the child's current family in order to do it."
Harmony seemed shocked. "Could she do something like that?"
"I have an idea," Millicent said quietly. "Instead of 'the child,' why don't we substitute 'the girl,' and see what happens."
McWhirter looked stricken. "Ah."
"Very good," Vail said. "A girl, who Sharon feared might be subjected to the same sexual degradation. Who is presently almost twelve years old. Perhaps the age the abuse began? Now then, I ask you: if three-quarters of a million dollars couldn't find the girl for Sharon, what might?"
"Nonmonetary pressure. Political favors maybe. Someone with military connections? Government connections…"
"Army. And who is the head of their team?" Vail pulled Clavell's file up and began to scan it with interest.
"You know," Tony said carefully. "One really strange thing has happened. Nigel Bishop placed himself in danger to prevent Clavell from being killed out."
"Nigel Bishop." Vail tapped out the name on his desktop console, and a slew of information began to rise. "Half the planet thinks he's unbeatable. Tony? Is he?"
"Bishop just lost his entire team."
Harmony looked shocked. "What? Wasn't Bishop supposed to have the biggest balls in Gaming?"
"Yes, but it was his second-in-command's fault. Disobeyed Bishop's direct orders. Bishop might have anticipated it would happen, but that's truly bizarre. But Bishop likes truly bizarre."
Vail said, "All right. We'll look at Army. We'll look at this Nigel Bishop. We'll find out whether Sharon could have met Nigel Bishop or some Army strategist, for that matter. Then we go the other way, try to find someone with a connection to Embryadopt. Anything else?"
Nothing.
Tony McWhirter walked Millicent and Harmony to the elevator. All three were tired, but Tony pulled Millicent aside for a moment. She came without question, saying good-night to Harmony.
"Yes, Tony?" She looked at him, feeling mixed emotions. Tony was a victim, too, in a very special way that even he didn't understand.
"It's not Army. I've got tape Clavell moaning when he first saw MIMIC. Christ, he didn't have any damned map."
"Could that have been for the cameras?"
"It's Bishop. I've got a bad feeling we'll never be able to prove a damned thing. He's got his tracks covered nine ways to hell, but I know. Trust me, I'm a Game Master." He stopped and frowned. "There's another problem-it's got to be Bishop, but I can't believe he placed that six-hundred-thousand-dollar bet."
"What do you mean?"
"You've got five teams in there. Bishop can't ride shotgun over Army the whole time, even if he wanted to. Be too suspicious, and besides, he's not even trying to control Army."
"Not trying?"
"He's nowhere near tracking the Army team. He's led two of the teams out of the Gaming area. Made us look like fools, of course. Also saved them a deal of trouble. You know, I can't even see his ego letting him throw a Game."
Millicent was leaning back against the wall, thoughtful. "Maybe he wouldn't be losing the Game. Maybe he'd be winning a bigger Game. It's all a matter of perspective."
"Yeah. I can see him thinking like that. Never let the enemy know what your true intentions are… But I can't see him believing he could pull it off."
Acacia, he thought suddenly. "He's got help. Acacia Garcia is in the Game with him. I mean, they're sleeping together, but Loremasters for opposing teams."
"So if she was in on it?"
Christ. There'd have to be a lot of money in it and there was, damn it. "They'd have to kill out the Troglodykes and Tex-Mits, throw the Game, and leave everything to Army. Any idea how delicate and dangerous a backstabbing like that would be? One misstep, and complete scandal. IFGS invalidates the Game, Vegas doesn't pay off. Civil suits. Bishop loses six hundred gees. Nobody ever plays with Acacia again. Millie, Gaming is her life!"
"Everybody grows up, Tony. People have bet a lot more for a lot less."
"Maybe. She likes danger. Excitement. Maybe. I don't believe Bishop could pull it off, but maybe he believes he can. He's egotistical enough. And I hate to say it, but he might have Acacia hypnotised enough to believe he can do it."
"You just don't buy it."
Tony rubbed his eyes. "Everything I know says he can't pull it off. I'll ask the Lopezes, too, but… he can't. Influence the odds, yes. He could have another player paid off. He might be in the computers. But Millie, the safer it is, the more complex it is. The more complex it is, the more dangerous it is." He rubbed his temples. "Ouch."
"I'm trying to think like Alex here," Millicent said slowly. "Couple of different choices, assuming you're right about his aims-that he's involved in the gambling, that he involved another Loremaster in his plans. One, he's better than you think he is, Tony. He can pull it off. Two, he's overrated himself, and he can't pull it off."
Tony rubbed his eye and yawned. "My brain feels like scrambled eggs. When I c
lose my eyes I see sheep screaming and running in circles. Call me if you get anything, would you?"
"Sure." And then she thought to herself, You're jealous of Bishop, Tony. He's sleeping with the woman you loved. You'd hate Griffin for having done the same thing, but you owe him too much. Transference.
But does that make Bishop more or less of a suspect? Was Tony trying to frame him, or to convince them that Bishop wasn't clever enough to be guilty, or what?
At that instant, she knew that despite massive medical evidence to the contrary, headaches were communicable.
Get some sleep.
26
The Indirect Route
"The greatest difficulty in winning a war is forcing an indirect opponent into direct action, or an aggressive, straightforward adversary into excessive subtlety. The key is to take the indirect routes. Lure opponents to the attack with hints and clues and shows of possible weakness. One must be able to leave the starting blocks after an opponent, and arrive at the finish line before him."
— Nigel Bishop, The Art of Gaming, 2052
Friday, July 22, 2059 5:55 A.M.
Dawn had come to the Mojave. It painted the eastern mountains a burnt orange, with the promise of greater, warmer light and life behind it. Slowly, long before the temperature of the air began to rise, the light silvered. The radiance spread up behind the mountains, the shadows began rolling back, and back, and daylight marched toward MIMIC.
Alphonse was awake and packed, ready to move.
Three of his compatriots had formed a seated triangle: S. J. Waters, Crystal Cofax, and Major Terry Clavell.
SJ was Scout and Thief. Clavell was Magic User and Warrior. Crystal was a Scout. All had special sight, special powers of discernment. For some fifteen minutes they had been locked in magical ceremony.
In the center of the triangle, uncomfortable and a bit squat, sat the pregnant Mary-em.
"This is ridiculous," she said.
"Shut up," Crystal replied politely.
SJ cocked his head sideways. "Did you know that you glow when you're pregnant?"
"SJ," Mary-em said calmly, "I did a paper on exotic torture methods once. Care to contribute to its sequel?"
"Is that any way for a mommy to talk?"
The three joined hands around the edge of the triangle, and chanted. Somewhere in the universe, the powers that be evaluated their ceremony and intent and decided that they had enough of whatever such gods decided it took for them to achieve their intended goal.
Mary-em's tummy began to glow. The embryo within glowed more brightly: Chango's unborn boy-child. He had developed with preternatural rapidity. His eyes were open, his face aware and alert, if annoyed.
"Why do you awaken me?" he whispered. "I have need for sleep."
Alphonse said, "We need to know our next destination."
"Seek the water people," the embryo said. The vast brown eyes were heavy-lidded, threatening to flutter closed. "And let me rest."
"We are afraid. Afraid of ambush, by others of our kind. We need to know where they are."
A light pulsed out from inside Mary-em, turning her entire body transparent. Organs and bone structure were available for perusal. A translucent ghost of MIMIC formed around them, floor to ceiling, as if Mary-em were embedded in Jell-O.
"Here. They are here, on the twelfth floor," the fetus said dreamily. A patch of the floor blinked. "The Nommo are a level beneath them."
"The water people?"
"Yes. Seek them, and you will learn what you must. I… hope that you… swim well."
And then the light faded away.
Mary-em's heavy mouth creased with amusement. "Well. My son, the godling."
The general asked, 'What do we do? How many of us swim?" Hands went up.
" Puck that," Clavell said. "We're not there yet. How many of us can fight? As far as we know, Bishop and Da Gurls have all banded together, and they're going to wipe us out, first chance they get."
"Which will be in about half an hour if we go down there," said Poule.
Clavell said, "We're not defenceless either. We have a talisman that probably can't be beat. And we can be sneaky."
"Listen up," Alphonse offered. "We consider ourselves one team till the end of the Game. No backstabbing, no bullshit. Help each other earn points, watch each other's backs. This time out, there's enough goodies for everybody if y'all don't get greedy."
"But how do we get past Apple?" Crystal asked.
"Good question," he admitted. "Twan's read a book-she can track us. Even if we sneak around t'other side of the building."
"Now look." Clavell drew a simple map on a sheet of paper. "There's something else that we can do…"
Trevor Stone refused to speak to a Game Master.
Tamasan hadn't seen anything that led up to the disaster. The Cleric had come running when Trevor and Holly were suddenly surrounded by showy magical effects…
Holly Frost had slept badly, and not in the Gen-Dyn quarters. She'd refused to be near "A maniac" Stone. She slumped in a web chair and studied Tony through pink, bleary eyes. "I know you. You're the asshole almost ruined the South Seas Treasure Game."
"Years ago. Holly, I'm a reformed soul. Now I save Games."
"Like you saved this one, Game Master?" She couldn't wait for an answer; she bounded to her feet and screamed, "Can you believe that maniac? All we had to do was sit tight and wait for Bishop. Stone just didn't know how to handle it.
Like this was a fat-ripper special instead of the goddamn Olympics of Gaming! He killed us all. Can you believe this shit?" Her whole body shook with rage.
"I want you to think back over California Voodoo. Could Bishop have set you up?"
She froze; she stared; she shied back and into herself, as if suddenly remembering that Tony had done more than ruin a Game. "You have gone nuts."
"Okay."
"Wait. "
She sat down. When Tony poured a paper cup of coffee, she took it without comment. She sipped, and thought, and said "I've never heard of anything that insane."
Tony nodded. He felt embarrassed.
"Bishop never does what anyone expects," she said.
"Right."
"You think he manipulated his way back into the Game? He wouldn't need to. Hell, I jumped at the chance to play on the Bishop's team. But did he set us up, McWhirter, why?"
"I–I could be way off here-"
"Game Masters don't leave a running Game for no reason! What do you know, McWhirter?"
"Not enough. Not enough to start a rumor or risk a slander suit, Holly. What do you know?"
"We didn't make any mistakes." Her dark pretty face was composed: Holly had gotten a grip on herself. "I tried to keep Stone calm by getting him to tell Gaming stories. It worked for a while, but then he just had to show Bishop up. Those two got along like balrogs and paladins.
"I warned Bishop not to call him Trevor. He's not a Californian, he's a Brit. Calling him by his first name is an imposition. It's like scraping a nerve every time."
"What did Bishop say?"
"He thanked me politely and said he'd try to stop. He hadn't realised. Goddamn you, McWhirter."
"Being sarcastic?"
"Not so I could see. I wondered."
"What can you tell us about working with Bishop?"
She nodded to herself. She said, "Gen-Dyn forced Stone on Bishop. Second-in-command. Sooner or later Stone had to take the com, and it happened at Ile Ife. If Bishop-if he suckered us, there's no way to blame him.
"He's confident. Unbelievably so. But he's usually dead-on about anything to do with Gaming. One hell of a sexy man." She grinned at him, a shark's grin. "If I'd had an opportunity, I was going to make a play."
"What was he like to work with?"
Holly rolled one long, shapely thigh over the other and stared up at the ceiling. "Intense. Perfectionist. When the name 'California Voodoo' came down, Bishop set into research like a crazy man. Ancient African myths, Haiti, New Orleans, 'The Last Days
of the Late Great State of California.' And yet…"
She seemed to be deciding whether or not to continue. Tony remained silent.
"Just a feeling in the back of my head, like a-a taste? There was a lot of movement, but it never felt directed, focused. It was all logical. It all made sense. But this is the Bishop, right? The Bishop does crazy things. The unexpected. The intuitive leap. The deceptive gambit. And he didn't really come up with any of that. It made me wonder. Either he had lost it-"
"Did you believe that?"
Holly smiled and shook her dark, pretty face. "The man was on fire. He is so smart it's scary. Hell of a sexy man. No, I thought he must be planning something crazy, something unexpected, something that it would take a genius to guess.
But killing off his whole team? Why?" Her brow furrowed. ''Does he think he can win single-handed?"
"Could he think that?''
She laughed at herself. "Even Nigel Bishop isn't that crazy."
"What if he's changed the definitions?"
"Of what?"
"Of winning. Like, oh, suppose he bet on another team, for instance?"
"What, on Acacia? That's who he's with now." Her face twisted in what might have been grief. "Damn you, McWhirter."
Tony only nodded.
"He's risking a perfect reputation if he throws this Game. It's tarnished no matter what happens now. He lost his team!"
"You're looking at this the wrong way. In the context of the Game, winning is important. Bishop quit because winning was too easy. No challenge."
"What would be more important?"
"Money?"
She shook her head. "Power. For Bishop it's power."
To Tony that was a new thought. He suggested, "Enough money is power…"
Holly was thinking, her eyes closed. "If Bishop is cheating. If you are seeing him outside the Game, gone rogue, then don't stop at the first easy answer. Bad mistake. He'll leave a false trail. He'll give you an answer you'll buy, and then hit you with something subtler, and bigger." Again, that predator's smirk. "Much bigger."