Dream Park

by Larry Niven

  "Meaning?"

  S.J. contrived to combine mystery and childish glee in the same smirk. "The night has a thousand eyes, Mr. Tegner."

  "Meaning?"

  "Nothing, unless you're vulnerable to blackmail."

  "Being deliberately vague?"

  "You betcha. I'm allergic to pain."

  The mountains were noticeably closer now. The troop was tramping through regions less like green hell and more like densely shrubbed foothills. The ground was no longer mushy, but hard-packed dirt giving way to rocky ground. Soon they were winding their way past huge moss-encrusted boulders and under the lip of a sheer cliff. Looking back, Griffin noticed that perspec­tive had changed; the jungle behind them seemed to be lower than the path along the cliff face. As they wended their way into the "mountains" Griffin lost sight of the jungle several times, and each time it came back into view it was smaller and lower.

  They continued to climb. By contrast with the stark rock walls around them, the trees and thick brush had been downright cheery. After a long stretch with nothing to look at but granite, they broke through the first set of foothills into another stretch of greenery.

  The trail led down into a meadow marked with huge twisted trees, green and greener still from the vines that swarmed up into their branches. Flowers exploded from the vines, red and violet fantasies that looked ripe enough to pluck and eat. The meadow was ringed with tumbled rock, but at the far end it was fenced by the rise of a mountain. From halfway up the mountain face tum­bled a cascade that sparkled like blue diamonds in the sunlight, and where waterfall met ground it formed a small lake.

  Two people waited on the shore.

  More cautiously now, the column wound downward. Griffin

  saw the white aura glow around someone near the front, and tongues of green flashed out in all directions, then vanished.

  No danger on the trail. Chester let the line hurry a little. Alex began to smell the moisture in the air, to feel the coolness of the lake, to sense what it would be like to plunge into its depths. Previously ignored, the grittiness of dust-encrusted underclothes and the strong soupy smell of an unwashed body became jarring irritants.

  He found himself breaking into a run. Around him Garners were abandoning backpacks and outer clothing. The two strangers on the bank beckoned them on with lazy smiles. Griffin had almost reached the water when Chester yelled, "Hold it, dam-nut. We're going to have to test that water first."

  The group grumbled, but waited for the go-ahead.

  Chester strode over to the newcomers and greeted them hap­pily. "Margie. Good to see you." The lady was in her early sixties, judging by her hands and neck, but as well-preserved as a woman could be. When she stood it was with a grace that would turn any man's head, and her figure was still trim and firm. Her hair was gloriously gray, rippling softly down to her shoulders and not much further. "And you, Owen. Sorry to make you wait."

  "It's okay, Chester," the man drawled. He looked to be Mar­gie's age, and carried himself well. He stood with a trace of stiffness, and he stretched like a big gray cat. "Margie and I can always use a little time to sit and watch the water gurgle."

  The Lore Master smiled. "The water's safe, then?" They both nodded. "Don't mind if I test it myself, do you?"

  "Not a bit, dear. Don't drain too much of your power, thoughi"

  Chester gave her a tolerant wink and spread his arms. "Hear me, oh Gods..." His aura flicked into place. "Reveal danger!" The lake lit up in clear green.

  "We're safe, children. What the hell-I declare a break. Let's have some fun!"

  Mary-em whooped and stripped her chunky body down to the buff, dove into the water without even testing the temperature. Leigh and Lady Janet were next to strip and dive. Eames, still in his underpants, wiggled a toe in the water, grinned with hollow bravery, and took the plunge.

  Soon the entire group was splashing and playing. Griffin stood on the bank alone, chewing his lip. Acacia swam over to him.

  "Hey there, big fella. Come on in and play." She splashed at him with deadly accurate aim.

  Griffin caught himself peering through the water for a better view of her. "Aren't the cameras still on?" Bobbick and Millie must be having a wonderful time.

  Acacia gave him a raspberry. "Don't be silly. We're on break now. The Game is suspended for half an hour. Are you coming in, or am I coming out to get you?"

  "Not that that's a bad idea, but..." Griffin balanced one-legged to pull off his shoes. He sat down to pull his pants off.

  Acacia's appreciative whistle echoed across the lake. "My my. Just look at those legs." She swallowed water and coughed it out, laughing.

  "Inherited ‘em from my mother," he growled. From now on he'd spend more time on his sun deck. He seemed to be wearing flesh-colored briefs. "All right. Here I come." He jumped in with a resounding splash.

  The water was cold and sweet, and varied from two to four me­ters deep. Griffin forgot his embarrassment and let his whole body wriggle with pleasure. He dove down to the lake's sculpted stone bed, running his hands along it, watching air bubbles leak from his mouth and wobble up to the surface.

  How long had it been since he last dipped in a pool? The only possible answer was: too long. He spent fifteen hours a week ex­ercising, but it was all work-related. At this moment Dream Park and Alex Griffin's work seemed worlds away.

  He arced back up to the surface, barely avoiding Owen Brad-don, who was backstroking across the pond. Not swimming as fast as (for instance) Bowan the Black, nor looking as pretty-he was easily thirty years older than Bowan, and the small pot belly ruined his streamlining-Braddon clove the water with a clumsy enthusiasm that made him a joy to watch.

  Griffin sank beneath the water as a weight landed on his shoul­ders from behind. He came up sputtering.

  "Guess who?" Acacia yelled, and pulled him back under. This time he grabbed one of her legs and wrestled her down. Her gig­gles sent a stream of bubbles frothing from her mouth as she kicked out and caught him firmly in the chest, breaking his grip.

  She swam quickly away, and Griffin followed. He watched the sun play on the muscles of her long, light brown legs as she tried to outrace him. Acacia glanced back over her shoulder, eeked to see

  him so close behind her, and dove under water again. Griffin gulped a lunglul of air and followed.

  Turbulence clawed at him, water and bubbles forced their way into his nose and buffeted his face. Then the water was calm again, and he realised that they'd swum through the waterfall. There was eight meters of space between the rock wall and the cascading tons of water, and Acacia waited for him there. He swam to her, taking her into his arms playfully. Her body was slippery in his hands as she jumped up and licked the tip of his nose. "Very kinky," he said, glancing through the waterfall to the Garners beyond. Nobody was paying any attention.

  "Only mildly so, hombre." She locked her arms around his neck. "Hey, mister." She arced her eyebrows conspiratorially. "Ya wanna fool around?"

  "I'm not sure I believe you," Griffin said, nuzzling her. "Believe this, then." She kissed him fiercely, lifting her body to him, and Griffin found that one part of him believed her totally. They rolled in the water, blinded by mist and roar and water, aware only of each other. Mouths locked and bodies pressed tightly together; they were a tiny, tangled pocket of heat in the roiling cold.

  When they broke, she pulled a few inches away, eyes glowing, huge, breathing a little shallow. "Now that was communication, mister."

  "Yesss... I thought I heard something there. What was it saying?"

  She hoisted herself tantalizingly high enough to look him squarely in the face. "Me want."

  Griffin's hands steadied her hips, adjusting, and they both took a sharp inhalation- "Well. Is this a private party, or what?"

  Griffin and Acacia broke away from each other. Tony McWhirter was treading water about three meters away. A grin was frozen, lifeless, on his face.

  Acacia flushed guiltily. "Tony! I, uh... thought yo
u were

  • . well, I-"

  "It's pretty clear that you weren't thinking about me, so save it, Cas."

  The dark haired girl shook her head disbelievingly, her hair spraying droplets in all directions. "Tony, don't be mad. You said it was all right if we each had our fun-" She turned pleading eyes

  to Griffin for an instant, and he backed away from her. Acacia swam over to Tony and tried to link her arms around his neck. He shook her loose.

  "Yeah, well that's true, and it's certainly worked out well for you, hasn't it? I mean, with every available woman sewn up, and four or five loose men running around, you've had plenty of op­portunities to bat those lashes and wiggle your hips. Then, if things didn't work out, well, old Tony's always available, right?"

  "Tony, it isn't like that-" Again she tried to hug him, and he pushed her gently away.

  "No, Cas. It's all right. I just don't think it's fair that every time you do this to me, everyone ends up thinking I'm the villain." He turned and dived and was gone beneath the waterfall.

  Griffin swam over to her, although he didn't try to touch her. She watched Tony go, and some of the vibrancy had gone out of her.

  "I'm sorry," Griffin said, not knowing what else to say.

  She didn't look at him. "I'm sorry too." Her voice was painfully flat. "I think maybe we had better get back to the others."

  Through the rippling vertical sheet of water, the retreating figure of Tony was indistinct and growing smaller with each stroke. Acacia started to speak but the words wouldn't come at all.

  Griffin followed her out through the thundering turbulence. He had let his mind stray from business. He wasn't here for fun. And the more he thought about it, the less it seemed that anybody else was, either.

  Chapter Eighteen

  SNAKEBITE CURE

  Griffin was pulling his boots on when Mary-em slapped him on the shoulder... gently. That startled him. "Hey, Gary. Did you know this Rice guy? The guard?"

  Griffin didn't let himself react. "Rice? I dunno. Does he work in Dream Park?"

  "He did. Owen and Margie were telling us about it. Seems he got killed in the Research building a couple of days ago. The whole place was buzzing with it when they were being prepared for inser­tion this morning."

  Griffin kept his eyes on his boots. "Hmnim. Maybe I did hear something about it. I'm sorry. Last week was really hectic." He pulled the laces tight and tied them. "I wasn't paying much at­tention to gossip."

  "Well, I just thought maybe you knew him. Maybe he ate at your restaurant now and then?"

  "It's likely enough. What happened to him?"

  She jabbed him with the tip of a short strong finger. "I thought maybe you could clear that up, handsome. Ah well, get your pack on. Playtime's over." She waddled away whistling tunelessly to herself.

  Well, that solves one problem, Griffin thought. He had consid­ered dropping a comment about Rice's death into a group discus­sion, just to see if anyone flinched. For the role of the thief he had too many suspects; and nobody seemed to be acting like a hunted killer. Now the news was out, and he could sit back and watch the results.

  It seemed likely that the killer didn't know the guard was dead. The GriffIn's prey might well believe that Rice woke up with a headache and a sore neck. That would make it a game, a com­plex exercise in ingenuity and daring. But murder, that would be different. The Gamer who had chuckled privately about his mar­velous coup might now begin to show signs of panic.

  And who was left as suspect? Well, high on the list were Bowan the Black and his lady, Dark Star. Mary-em, S.J., and Tony McWhirter had no apparent alibis for Thursday evening. Neither did Oliver or Gwen. All of the other Gamers were covered, as­suming that those who had already been killed out agreed to sub­mit to the voice stress analyzers.

  Unless... Acacia? Was she covered for the entire night? Pride be damned, the lady seemed uncommonly. interested in the Griffin's past. And my body. Damn Fortunato! Did he have no sense of tact?

  Come to think of it, what about Kasan Maibang? He was in the Game at that point, and would have to account for his actions like any Gamer.

  And what of the workmen who entered Gaming Area A to change the sets? Could one of them have sneaked away from the others...

  "Holy mother of mercy," Griffin whispered bitterly. This was quickly getting out of hand. He would have to have Bobbick check that for him as soon as possible.

  He stood, breathed deeply and shouldered his pack. The line was forming again, but this time he had a new partner: Acacia. She stood next to him, waiting for Chester's call to move out. She didn't speak.

  "Hey, lady. Who's not communicating flow?"

  Her smile was faint. "I'm sorry, Gary. Do you mind if I walk with you?"

  "I'd like that. Things aren't good with the boyfriend, eh?"

  A sigh. "On and off. Off right now. I don't really feel much like talking. Do you mind? I'd just kind of like to walk with you." She looked up at him, and for the first time he saw no strength, no as­surance in that beautiful face, only confusion and loss.

  So Griffin walked with her as Chester started the column on its way. Together they wound their way into the mountains, silently sharing the sights and moods of the day.

  Together they huddled beneath the branches of a gnarled dead tree as the Ford sent a storm against them. Dora, the spirit of na­ture, raged in the sky and in the earth, and dark clouds gathered, spitting splintered lightning into the mountains. Protected by the Clerical power of Gwen and Owen Braddon they still shivered in the cold rain. The wind plucked at them, and torn brushwood tumbled through the air at frenzied speed. When lightning struck, the ground trembled ominously, and rocks began to fall.

  It seemed that half the mountain was falling on them: waves of mud, a hailstorm of boulders. They saw the earth open and swal­low one of their bearers. Before the storm was over Acacia and Griffin were cuddling for warmth, still unspeaking, shivering as they held one another.

  ". ...osting us time!" Henderson muttered, while Mary-em bellowed a song into the storm.

  "I have a magic Wizard's staff, I think it's really swell,

  Whatever tries to slow me down, I blow it straight to Hell-"

  They could barely hear her, and nobody would join her. She desisted.

  When at last the rain stopped, and the storm clouds boiled away into vapor, the Garners crept out and looked anxiously into the sky, shaking water from their hair and bedrolls.

  Acacia kept her eyes on the ground as she straightened herself up. She was barely audible as she answered Chester's roll call, and Alex watched her, worried.

  Only Kagoiano had been killed, which left eighteen people in the Game: the fifteen players, Lady Janet, Kasan Maibang and the bearer Kibugonai. As soon as everyone had their breath back, they continued on.

  After another mile of silent companionship, Griffin finally asked, "Does he do this to you often?"

  "I don't know who's doing what to who, right now. Hell, maybe I am too bossy. Maybe I do play around too much..."

  Alex chose to ignore the implied question. "Come on, Acacia. Yesterday you were telling me that I needed to get more involved in the Game. Okay. So do you, now."

  "You're telling me to ignore the fact that the man... that someone I love has been hurt through my actions? I can't do that."

  "Then go talk to him."

  "No," she said softly. "I can't do that. Not yet. We might be able to talk later. We've had this problem before, and it's always worked itself out. Before. Maybe tonight we'll be able to talk." She looked up at him with the same pleading eyes he had seen under the waterfall. "I hope you don't think that I'm a tease, be­cause I really do like you. I just don't think that you and I should take things any further than they've gone."

  "I can understand that. Really. Listen. Let's just forget that all of this happened, all right? If you help me believe that I'm a Thief out to steal back precious Cargo, then I'll help you remember that you're a beautiful Warrior heading fo
r the fight of her life. How does that sound?"

  She creased her neutral expression into a smile and said nothing.

  The route they traveled was turning green again, but now the trees and bushes seemed stunted, twisted, as if the soil itself con­tained alien nutrients. No branches bore leaves, but strange golden fruit hung from them, and Griffin wrestled with the temptation to pluck and taste one.

  He couldn't explain it, but somehow he knew they were being watched by hostile eyes. He found himself thumbing the hilt of his knife and whistling tunelessly, nervously, his eyes roaming the crags above and the occasional gullies below.

  The other Garners were restless too. Alex caught Tony McWhirter looking back at them. Tony's eyes shied away when they met Griffin's. He seemed not resentful, but afraid.

  "What do you think, Cas?"

  "I feel it too. Something's happening. It'll be soon." She shiv­ered, and drew her sword, holding it at ready though there was no visible foe.

  Fear. That was what he felt, pure fear, something on a level he couldn't touch intellectually, something more primitive than reason.

  Up ahead, Chester called the line to a halt. The mass of Garners grouped around the Lore Master in a ragged semicircle.

  Chester raised his hand for silence. "We all feel it, so I don't need to tell you that there is danger up ahead. I think we're near­ing Cargo. What form it will take I haven't a notion. If we have to break the line for combat, let's see mixed couples. Try to pick someone of a different guild to stand with now. We can't afford to lose two of any category. Let's try to spread the damage. All right? Anyone who needs to exchange partners, now's the time. S.J., up here with me."

  The youngster whooped and raced up to stand next to the Lore Master. Some of the players scrambled around, but Alex and Acacia stayed together.

  The path narrowed and led through a slit in the rock wall. Owen Braddon, a Cleric, provided a gentle white glow to protect and illumine their way as they passed through a long, roughly tri­angular tunnel. The tunnel was cool and dry, but there was slip­pery moss underfoot. When it opened out again, there was a col­lective sigh of relief.