Trianna looked back over at Welsh. His audience, red-faced, was bouncing on the couches and doubled up painfully, holding their sides and begging for mercy. Suddenly it was difficult for Gwen to remember him in the Game, spear in hand, slaying the dreaded Amartoqs. Unlike Trianna, Johnny still needed his shield.
“Good luck to both of you,” Gwen said.
Ollie’s warm hand found hers, and they joined Vail. He sat at the rim of a holo stage with Eviane/Michelle, and Max, and Max’s brother Orson.
Charlene was there, next to Yarnall, who wore a silly self-righteous smile.
Gwen tweaked him. “What are you so happy about?”
“Welles, that glorious bastard. He liked the Game I played so much that he kept that double bonus going both days. Told me I could play one of his scenarios, anytime.”
Onstage was the Island sequence, with various Gamers stalking and skulking about in the shadows.
“Rl’yeh,” Orson said. “It’s Lovecraft’s ‘At the Mountains of Madness’ combined with his frigging floating island. I never tumbled till I saw it up there on the screen!”
Max snorted. “So wonder boy blew it once. At least you got out alive.”
Vail leaned into the conversation. “You know,” he offered, “I saw you both play, and I would bet that both of you would play better if you were going for real points. In a Fat Ripper siblings can reinforce each other’s habitual roles.”
“I think I saw that,” Max confessed. “Our act is: he’s brains, I’m muscle.” Max punched his brother’s shoulder. “You know, you did some powerful adventurin’ there.”
They slapped hands. “Yeah…” Orson said contentedly. “It ain’t that I don’t love you-although I don’t-but next time, I’m winging it.”
Gwen chuckled, then stopped as she watched Michelle. Vail sat on the couch behind her, too casually. Her face was intense with interest on the holo stage.
“So,” Vail said, once again with extreme casualness. “How are you, Michelle?”
“Fine.” She looked up at Vail with a face devoid of guile or guilt or trauma. “You don’t have to worry about me, Dr. Vail. That nice Alex Griffin already talked to me about staying around for another week. Everybody’s worried about me. Everybody can stop worrying. I know the therapy I need, and I’ve got him.”
Max grinned hugely. “Taa-dah!”
“And the lifetime Gold Pass doesn’t half help, either.”
“I only love you for your pass,” Max said, and kissed her heartily.
“Just know,” Vail said, “that if there’s anything we can do-”
“I’ll call. I promise.”
Vail moved around to Charlene. “How are we feeling?”
She was sprawled on the couch, her feet up in Hebert’s lap. He was rubbing the tension out with strong, practiced thumbs. She said, “A little confused, I guess. Nobody will tell me what really happened to Marty. I think that Michelle knows-”
Michelle’s eyes were woeful as they met Charlene’s. It was Charlene who looked away.
“It was a security matter,” Vail said.
“That’s what Mr. Griffin says. And Gwen and Ollie say. And Michelle has this funny look in her eye.” Charlene sighed and leaned back into her cushions. “Oh, darn. My legs are so sore I’m considering amputation. I guess I won’t worry about Marty. Still.” A wistful, hurt look flitted across her, then disappeared.
With Vail, Gwen toured the room. At his urging they made notes here, compared opinions there… “Only a quick prelim survey, of course. We’ll spot-check them for the next few months,” Vail said. “What we really want to know is, do we affect the Actors more than the Gamers?”
“Why would you?” Gwen asked.
“Well, in principle it could work like Alcoholics Anonymous.
Get ‘em to teach what you want them to learn. Harmony tells me we can put the Actor option in the home Game cassette, but maybe it costs more than it’s worth.”
They’d made a complete circuit of the room. Vail sighed. “I think that’s about it.”
Trianna was dancing with Johnny Welsh. Even with her excess weight, she was a woman of such sensuality that half the heads in the room turned to watch. The weight would go when she visited the moon; and then some of the mass would go too. One’s appetite decreased in low gravity. Maybe even Johnny would lose some weight.
Eight probable successes.
One cipher: Marty Bobbick. “Hippogryph” had dropped out of the Game most spectacularly. Where he was, and what the conclusion of his story might be, Gwen wasn’t sure she wanted to know.
If there were dungeons down below Dream Park, what would the jailers look like?
And the rats?
It had been a good Game. Some of the Gamers had been outrageous enough that she would like them along on a real adventure. Others remained mysteries to her, had never really revealed themselves to her.
That was the name of the game, the war that it always was. All things considered, their success-failure ratio had been pretty good.
Orson and Johnny: failures. (But if Orson joined a real game, he’d have to train. Hmm?)
Robin Bowles, Francis Hebert, Charlene, Yarnall-time would tell, but both she and Vail were confident that progress had been made.
Max, Kevin Titus, Trianna: breakthrough city. And of course Michelle: success beyond their dreams.
Lastly… Gwen and Ollie?
She’d had fresh fruit for dessert, and loved it. And salad for a main course, and loved it. And a plain baked potato, and strips of freshly wokked chicken. And no fat or sugar at all. She hadn’t felt much of an urge to snack. She had all the catch-phrases memorized, she could persuade herself of anything for minutes at a time… but only time could measure how she would use what she’d learned.
She didn’t want to lose weight. She didn’t need to lose weight..
But what would Ollie think of her in that Y-band monokini at the Blue Lagoon Shop, the scandalous one three sizes too small for her?
She could guess how he would react. And if it didn’t work out perfectly, she had every confidence that she could gain the weight back.
Yep, she thought, feeling the contentment expand within her like a warm tide, it had been a very good Game.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Scratchy-eyed and exhausted, Alex Griffin stood in the security room overlooking the main floor of Gaming A, scanning, watching for..
For what?
For three days after Marty’s confession, he had wrestled with the problem, and it just wouldn’t resolve. They had scoured Gaming B, had double-checked all of the identifications, had increased security scanning at all checkpoints. It was supposed to make him feel better. It didn’t.
He knew that something was terribly wrong.
His knuckles were white where his hands gripped the safety rail around the balcony. He was hungry, he was bone-achingly tired, and he continued to watch the crowd.
Ambassador Arbenz and his niece Charlene were in the-front row enjoying the closing ceremonies. Everyone around them looked like dwarves. Somebody needed a swift kick for putting Falling Angels between the Japan and China contingents. As many security men as he had walking the floor, surely Arbenz was as safe as a man could be..
Alex continued to scan, verifying for the fourth time what a single glance at the computer printout could have told him.
