Dream Park Read online

  Chester cast a precautionary "Reveal danger" spell before giv­ing the go-ahead. Gina was sympathetic. "You forgot to check the guns themselves, last time, Ches. After the outside of the box showed green you didn't worry about it."

  "You're right. But that's the last easy point Lopez is getting from me, you can count on that!"

  Tony and S.J. carried handguns now. Kagoiano had one of the rifles, and Dark Star carried the other slung over one freckled shoulder. The other two handguns were packed neatly away. "Let's move," Chester called out, and the column moved on.

  McWhirter slapped the pistol at his side heartily as he moved

  up next to Oliver. "You know, I feel like a new man with this thing on my side. Urn-the bullets aren't real, are they? I mean, those shots looked awfully real to me."

  Oliver seemed a little irritated. "No, they're not real. But it's still not a good idea to set one off next to somebody's ear. Even a blank can hurt your eardrums."

  "Right." He watched Gwen's hand find its way to Oliver's arm, and jealousy showed in his face. His eyes flicked back toward Acacia, who guarded the rear with Alan Leigh.

  Ollie caught it. "You know, those bullets aren't real, but I know something that is, and you're playing with it right now."

  Tony pursed his mouth. He didn't need to ask what the chunky warrior meant.

  "Listen, Tony-"

  "Fortunato, thank you. You're Oliver, I'm Fortunato, right? And we're off to steal what sounds like an atomic bomb, an exper­imental one at that. All crazies in this camp."

  "Go ahead, play games with her feelings, Tony. She may have hurt your feelings last night, but it wasn't on purpose, and she thought she was doing you a favor. You're hurting her on pur­pose."

  Tony brushed a springy branch out of his face as he walked, and said, "The ground's really getting marshy. We'll have to watch for quagmires."

  Oliver was disgusted. "All right, Fortunato. I just don't see how your macho could be wounded all that badly."

  "Watch out for snakes."

  Gwen released Oliver's arm and stretched out a hand for Tony. He skittled out of her reach, but he was grinning now. She stuck her tongue out at him and snuggled back up against Oliver.

  Tony set his long chin bravely and dropped back in line to where Acacia kept vigilant watch, her hand never straying far from her sword. She pretended not to notice him.

  "How goes the rear guard, Panthesilea?" he asked noncha­lantly. She made a noncommittal sound, studiedly looking the other way. He matched strides with her for several steps, trying to read her expression. "Listen, hon, I'm sorry about last night." She flickered an eyelash in his direction, and he was encouraged. "My pride just got hurt a little, that's all. Hey, it's hell being a man. The burden of carrying my ego around everywhere I go is enough

  to make me old before my time. Hey, Panth, at least look at a poor soul when he's humbling himself before you."

  "I don't think you can keep up with us on your knees, so just keep walking. I guess I'll get over it." The frost was thawing, but there was still a distinct coolness in her voice.

  "Believe me-mind if I take your arm? I mean, it's not doing anything right now, and looked kind of lonely-I'll make it up to you. Tonight, if you'll let me."

  At first there was no real response, then he felt an answering in­ward pressure from her arm. "Is that right?"

  "You bet. Moonlight, soft breezes, and a warm bedroll. Mos­quitoes courtesy of Cowles Industries."

  She raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Not like last night, eh?"

  "So I was ofT sulking in the bushes. Sorry about that. You weren't in your hut last night either."

  "Well, in case you haven't noticed, there are some very attrac­tive men on this expedition." She fluttered her eyelashes at him. "Very attractive. Some of whom know how to treat a lady."

  "When they can find one-just kidding. Aw, Cas, you know I can't handle this kind of thing very well. What say we call it a truce."

  "Agreed." She slipped her hand down to his, and squeezed, feeling a little knot of tension dissolve in her stomach. Her new­found feeling of relaxation brought an automatic smile to her face, and Tony pointed at it.

  "Now what's that for?"

  She gave him a little-girl laugh, wishing there was somewhere that they could go to curl up together and get it out of their sys­tems.

  "By the way," Tony said thoughtfully, "where were you last night?"

  A shout from the front nullified that question. Tony's hand found its way to his holstered pistol in a blink, and he had to run to keep up with Acacia, who was in motion instantly.

  The ground was extremely moist, now, and every footstep sank an inch into the muck. Reeds and fernlike plants abounded, and in the areas where water had seeped out of the ground to form pud­dles, islands of green scum floated. Someone shouted, "Help!" up ahead, and Tony realized that he had heard that cry twice before, too faint to register consciously. Another monster? An attack by the Ford, whatever the hell they were?

  He almost bumped into Acacia's back, so suddenly did she skid to a halt. She was bent over, trembling, and at first he was afraid for her. Then he heard the laughter and knew it was all right.

  A man was stuck up to his waist in quicksand, or the Dream Park equivalent thereof. He was big, with thick shoulders and neck. Another jock warrior, Tony bet himself silently. The man had close-cropped red hair and an unsaintly look of irritation on his face. "Get me the hell out of here, will you?"

  Chester was laughing, hands on knees, standing as close to the quicksand as he dared. "Well hello there, stranger. I've been ex­pecting you. Who exactly are you, and why should we trouble our­selves to rescue you?"

  "I'm the Griffin. I'm the best Thief in the world."

  "Excuse me." Dark Star tossed her head, bouncing her short brown hair. "And just how do you think you deserve that title, Mr. Titanic? Leave him, Chester."

  "Now, now. Let's have no quarreling over matters of rank. We're all equal here, except me of course. Still, her point is well taken. On what grounds rest your claim to greatness? Hurry, now, I do believe you're an inch or so shorter than you were a minute ago."

  The man looked down at his waist and grimaced. "Well, I stole the Emerald Eye from the sacred statue of Katmandu."

  "Not bad. Anything else?"

  The man shifted uncomfortably in the muck. Tony reflected that the stuff must itch like crazy. "I filched the Silken Bellows from the temple of Kosell the Wind God."

  "My. That must have been exciting." Chester covered a yawn. "If you've never done anything bigger than that, we may have to lend you a snorkel."

  "All right. Last try. I have the only existing black market print of Star Wars."

  "Woops." Chester paused respectfully. "A slight anachronism, seeing as we're in New Guinea circa 1955 or so, but the point is well made. We'll get you out, S.J., you've earned a rest. Where's our other Engineer? Let's get Rudy Dreager out here."

  Dreager, a short stout man with a bulky backpack and a sun­burn-red complexion, hustled out and began taking mental meas­urements. His voice was a squeak. "No really solid trees to use as a pulley, so I'll need some help with the line. Eames, would you be kind enough? Thank you."

  Eames looked miffed to be thanked before he had consented, but he stepped forward and took the end of the thin nylon line Dreager offered him. The chunky little man threw the other end to the trapped Thief, who wound the end of it round one wrist and held on with the other hand. The procedure was clumsy but effec­tive, and with an obscene sucking sound, he came free of the mire.

  The Thief wiped his leather trousers partly clear of mud and smiled cynically. "I guess after an introduction like that I'd better be worth it."

  "He's a mind reader, Chester," Dark Star sniffed.

  Chester hushed her with a look. "You aren't who I was expect­ing, so I assume you're a guest of the Dream Gods?"

  "Well put. I can promise to pull my weight, though."

  Dark Star scratched one of
her stubby ears. "Do you expect us to share our supplies with you?"

  "Ray of sunshine, aren't you? It so happens that I know the lo­cation of a substantial quantity of supplies." He paused for effect, then added, "Including a couple of six-packs."

  All reservation dissolved in that instant. Oliver shook his hand heartily. "Glad to meet you. My name's Oliver. What's yours?"

  "Griffin."

  "All right, Griffin. Let's find your supplies and break for lunch."

  Chester looked at his watch, then squinted up at the "sun" that burned on the inner surface of the covering dome. "If I were a sundial I'd say it was three o'clock or so, but I know it's only eleven-thirty. Somebody's collapsing time on us and I wonder why... ?" The last words were almost under his breath, and Chester shook himself back to alertness. "Fall in with Mary-em. She'll protect you until we see what you can do."

  "Her protect me?" There was an incredulous edge to Griffin's voice, broken off as small strong fingers dug into his arm.

  "Come on, handsome. If Mary-em has to nursemaid somebody, at least you've got a decent body to guard." She crinkled an eye at him speculatively. "Naw," she said finally.

  Griffin tried to fix a friendly, or failing that, at least a neutral expression on his face. "Well, let's go."

  "Let's."

  "The goods are about a hundred meters that way-" he pointed toward a slightly less marshy s'tretch of ground, and the Garners headed in that direction, eagerly.

  "My name is Acacia," the dark-haired girl said, sitting down next to him. "But you can call me Panthesilea."

  "A chrysanthemum by any other name..." he grinned at her, and downed a forkful of pork and beams. His feet were bare, socks and shoes laid out in the sun to dry.

  A lantern-jawed man with shaggy black hair staggered up the slope with a beer in either hand. The foam plastic "cans" had been suspended in a shadowed pool of water, and were pleasantly cool... cooler than the water, in fact. The newcomer said, "I'm Tony McWhirter." He tossed a can to Acacia, who caught it neatly. "Dark Star and I are the other Thieves on the expedition." He plopped himself down next to Acacia, sighed with content­ment, then ducked as she playfully sprayed him with beer foam.

  Griffin asked, "Have you been on many of these?"

  "Nope. This is my first one. The lovely lady dragged me along. You?"

  "My first time too. I supervise Gavagan's Bar. It's one of the Dream Park restaurants. That's what got me in."

  "That old demon wanderlust got to you, huh?"

  "Something like that. These people kept stumbling into the place, dirty, exhausted, grinning all over their faces. I finally had to find out what it was like." Griffin was quoting the real Gary Tegner almost word for word. He knew Gavagan's well enough, and he'd found the time to talk to the Gavagan's Bar manager for nearly half an hour.

  He'd been very busy these last few hours. Someone else had packed the backpack he had found waiting with the beer. Pres­ently he'd have to search through it, to see if anything had been forgotten.

  Tony regarded Griffin's shoulders and arms casually, noting the way small muscles bunched and writhed in the man's forearms as he turned his fork. "You know, I would have thought a man like you would want to be a Warrior."

  "Don't like blood. I like skulldng about in dark corridors, and outwitting the forces of justice. You?"

  "Thief is what my Wessler-Grahm came out to. As a fighter, I wouldn't have lasted more than a minute against the oversized tur­keys yesterday."

  Acacia laughed and touched Tony's arm lightly. Oliver chimed in. GriffIn scooted over a couple of inches and patted the ground

  next to him. Oliver sat down, followed by Gwen. Griffin asked, "How did you do?"

  "Against the big birds? Not bad. I didn't kill one by myself, but I crippled two of them, and somebody else finished them off. Not a whole lot for my individual points, but the group points will be good, so I'm not worried about it. I'm worried about my little darlin' here." Gwen snuggled her back against his; she was facing the other way, pretending not to listen to the conversation. "She hasn't really had a chance to strut her stuff yet."

  Now Gwen turned around. "Don't worry about me. What about Tony and Dark Star? There hasn't been any call for Thieves at all."

  "Aha." Griffin chewed for a bit, then explained. "I've been wondering why she came on so strong. Really attacked me."

  Acacia agreed readily. "Yes, you're probably right. This expe­dition has been a field day so far for Warriors and Wizards. Not too shabby for Engineers either. I think Dark Star is worried about her points." She tsked condescendingly.

  "May I assume that you and the lady in question aren't on the best of terms?"

  "We aren't on any terms at all. I just don't warm to her, that's all. Don't know exactly why, except that I seem to remember something about her cheating in a Game." Acacia seemed sud­denly alarmed. "Don't tell her I said that, though, okay?"

  "Scout's honor."

  "I could be wrong anyway."

  There was a cry from a group of Gamers a few feet away. Gina Perkins was dragging something that looked like an old-fashioned set of sleepers. It rustled like snakeskin.

  Gwen tugged Oliver to his feet and they ran over to inspect the thing. Tony followed a second later. "Oliver and Gwen," Griffin said to Acacia, "those two are pretty well inseparable, aren't they?"

  "Absolutely. Why do you ask?" She licked the last bit of gravy from her stew can.

  Griffin stood up and stretched lazily. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe I think she's kind of cute." He extended a hand to her and pulled her up.

  "She's adorable," the dark girl granted. "But is she really your type?"

  "And who might be more my type, hmm?" If Griffin had been standing four inches closer, they would have been kissing.

  Acacia turned and pointed to the woman who had found the curious artifact. "Oh, I don't know. How about Gina?" She smiled at him over her shoulder. "She's with Chester, but she's been known to forget that. I hear." She started toward the group of Garners, and Griffin followed close behind.

  Business first, Alex. He shut his grin down to a bare smirk.

  At first he couldn't believe his eyes. Unmistakably, Henderson was holding up a complete human skin: hollow, dry, dark brown, flapping in the air like long underwear hung up to dry.

  "What the hell is that?" Griffin asked.

  "Either random magic, or..." Henderson was thoughtful. "I seem to remember something about a legend of men who shed their skins. .

  S.J. looked at it closely. "Oh-oh." His head snapped from side to side. "Where are our bearers?"

  Kagoiano stepped forward promptly. So did Kibugonai, a short stout man with flat features.

  Chester bellowed, "Nigorai! Nigoraiiii!"

  Maibang shook his head with regret. "I'm afraid that you are holding Nigorai in your hands."

  Henderson started, then examined the skin more closely. When be came to a tiny white scar over the left eyehole, he nodded. "I suppose the revolvers he was carrying are gone too."

  A quick search confirmed it. "Then he was a spy, a... a member of the enemy impersonating a Daribi." He wiped a thin hand across his forehead, and Alex could see that the Lore Master's hand was trembling.

  "Faked out again," Acacia whispered at his shoulder.

  "We've lost points, and now the enemy knows we're coming. He was a spy." He started to throw the skin to the side, then stopped. "No. I'm not going to be stupid again. When lunch break is over I'm going to scan both of our bearers. I'm also keeping this skin. It may come in useful." He folded it carefully and put it in his pack.

  As the crowd drifted back to their lunches, Griffin found him­self wondering about the only man in the group larger than him­self. Eames had sandy red hair and freckles; he looked boyish, and his massive musculature provided an interesting contrast. He

  seemed to be alone. A single man in the group could have slipped away last night.

  Griffin stood with his back to Eames, trying to pick up bit
s of his conversation with the slender man with the receding hairline and brown braided hair. Leigh, that was his name, Griffin remem­bered it from the dossier he had studied before joining the Game.

  Alan Leigh trailed his hand appreciatively over Eames' shoul­ders. "You look a little tight there. Muscles need massaging, maybe?" There was a minimum of leer on Alan's face; perhaps his chipmunk cheeks were a bit more in evidence than usual. Out of the corner of his eye, Griffin saw Earnes was flinching.

  "Look, Alan. I told you last night. It's not that I don't like you as a person, I just don't get into it like that. Really."

  Leigh sighed. "What a waste. I could be a big help to you in the Game-"

  Wrong thing to say. Eames became palpably hostile. "Under what circumstances?"

  He was about to say more, but Alan picked up on the feeling and wagged his head. "No, I don't mean that. Really." He smiled sheepishly. "Anyway, we still have three nights left, and you know where to find me."

  That was as much as Griffin felt like eavesdropping on, and he turned away. Most of the Garners had finished eating and were preparing to leave. Griffin had tagged eight Garners as couples:

  Chester and Gina, Dark Star and that "Bowan the Black" charac­ter, Oliver and Gwen, Acacia and Tony. Acacia seemed to be looking around. All of the other players were singles, and were therefore to be considered first.

  Except that the conmient about Feicia "Dark Star" Maddox was very interesting. Something to keep an eye out for, while most of the wackos kept their eyes open for dragons and such. .

  Chapter Fourteen

  THE WATER PEOPLE

  The ground was mushy. Water lapped over the laces on Griffin's boots. Twice he had to stop to shake the water out. The realism was hard to fault. He half-expected to find leeches on his ankles. "Goddam Gamers," he muttered. "Why couldn't this have been a desert game? Or a nice mountain?"

  "What was that, Grifly?" a gravelly voice sang in his ear, He shuddered. "You can call me Griffin, or GrilL"