Dream Park

conjuring up a demon with that and you'll be dinner.'

'What's the difference between Magic User and Cleric?'

'Oh, Clerics usually perform preventive magic or curative magic. And they get their powers ‘from on high,' which means they must be pure of spirit. Playing with the ladies while in the Game might mess that up-'

Larry shot Welles a nasty look. 'That's turkey turds, Tony. What you do during the twelve hours a day that the Game is ‘off' is totally up to you. Look: with good scores in Intelligence and Agility, why don't you try Thief?'

Tony opened his mouth as if to protest, then he laughed and nodded. 'If it'll help me survive the Game, I'm for it.' And Tony McWhirter became a first level Thief, Fortunato by name, thought to be a bastard son of either Fafhrd or the Grey Mouser, it being that kind of relationship. He would enter the gaming area in cot­ton tropical garb.

The warning buzzer sounded again, and Chester Henderson bounded into the room. He wore a green safari shirt and matching pants, with creases sharp enough to cut paper. His pipestem arms and legs were fairly flapping with enthusiasm. 'Last minute check, everybody. We've only got a few minutes, and then we're off. Any questions?' He looked slowly around the room.

S. J. Waters, the youngest Gamester in the room, raised his hand halfway, as if afraid of being noticed. When Chester pointed at him he flinched, then said, 'Chester? What is it exactly that we're after?'

'We haven't been told. I've got my suspicions, though. We'll find out for sure once we enter the Game, so don't worry. Getting there is half the fun. Any more questions?... Good. We're going to have a tremendous time, people, and everyone is going to take home more points than he can carry.' He flashed his smile again, and began circling the room, checking on individual needs.

Gwen had returned to her seat next to Ollie, and he was busy

enjoying her costume. Registered as a Cleric, Gwen wore a simple dress cut several inches too high for a real missionary, and leather-soled walking shoes with just enough heel to bring out the shape of her calf. The dress was beige, and almost too frilly to wear on a jaunt, but the way that it brought out the most attrac­tive lines in her figure pardoned all impracticalities.

She stood up and twirled around for him, biting her lip. 'Do you like it, Ollie?'

He grinned until the corners of his mouth threatened to meet in the back. He reached out for her, and she backed away coyly. 'Do you like it?'

'South Seas Treasure or not, I already know I'm a winner.'

Gwen blushed. 'You know what I like best about Gaming?' Ollie shook his head. 'You always say the sweetest things when you think you're someone else.'

Ollie looked her dead in the eye. 'Maybe that's because you're someone else?'

'Hah! You know perfectly well-'

Acacia stooped over them. 'You guys ready? Everything in order?' Her Character Identification sheet was doubled in her hand. 'We'll be starting in a few seconds. What's that, Ollie, Tropical Chocolate?'

'Frankish Oliver to you, Panthesilea, and yes. The stuff tastes like cocoa butter, but it doesn't melt. We'll find food along the way, but I like to be prepared.'

The final warning sounded, and the Garners began shouldering knapsacks and gear. There was an impatient buzz in the air, and all eyes turned to Chester, who stood by Gina in the center of the room. His voice was nearly cracking with excitement. 'May I have everybody's attention, please. Will the fourteen Primaries please line up by the elevators. The doors will be opening auto­matically. It is now 7:52, eight minutes until the Game begins. Hustle, people, come on...'

He was wasting his breath. Long before he finished, fourteen faces were clustered below the digital floor monitor as it displayed the approach of the elevator cars. When the doors slid open there was a general whoop of delight, and the fourteen Primaries crammed in. Chester turned to look around the waiting room. No one had left anything behind; the room was clean and empty. Within hours the first Alternates would appear. Within minutes

the progress of the Game would be broadcast to monitors in selected areas of Dream Park.

But he and Richard Lopez had been at war for one solid year. Chester stepped back and the elevator doors closed.

Chapter Six

FLIGHT OF FANCY

Somehow Acacia had expected the elevator to carry them down, into the bowels of the R&D building, to long lost caverns where blind gnomes would lead them, hand in gnarled hand, to the beginning of the Great Adventure. Instead it went up. A McDonnell-Boeing Phoenix helicopter was waiting on the roof, its engines humming quietly as the vast horizontal blades turned in lazy circles.

'What the hell... ?' Tony whispered. She turned to caution him, but saw the grin of incredulous delight and said nothing. 'You know, I've always wanted to ride in one of these.'

'Let's just take it one fantasy at a time,' she murmured. Over one edge of the roof she could see the shapes and colors of Dream Park, its towers and mazelike walls. To the other side... noth­ing. Area A was hidden in featureless haze, a hologram projection of primal chaos.

The cargo doors of the Phoenix were open, waiting. A dark brown face suddenly popped out of the darkness, immediately split in a grin. 'Greetings!' the man yelled cheerily. 'Please, come aboard!' Chester looked at him suspiciously for a moment, then nodded and stalked aboard lugging his totebag.

Acacia was fifth aboard, just behind a huge man named Eames who walked with a self-conscious swagger. Warrior, she snickered, then reflected that his freckled boyishness might have interested her, if Tony weren't along to keep the chill off. One fantasy at a time, she reminded herself. Anything can happen.

The interior of the Phoenix copter was comfortable but not plush, with twenty seats and room for their gear in both overhead racks and a hamper in the rear. The pilot of the copter waved back at them as they were seated. 'Make yourselves comfortable, folks. I'm Captain Stimac, and you just let me know if you have any problems.' The dark man who had greeted them at the door was energetically bouncing up and down the aisle, helping people with their luggage and generally having a great time. Tony filled the seat next to Acacia, and she took his hand affectionately. He asked, 'What's next?'

She shook her head. She didn't want to talk; she wanted to sense.

The cargo doors creaked shut. The rotors of the Phoenix accel­erated, blurred and disappeared; but, characteristic of the model, the engines only made a hoarse and urgent humming sound. De­veloped for nocturnal combat duty, the Phoenix was as silent as a motor-driven craft could be.

The ground dropped away. 'Yah hooF' screamed Mary-em's buzzsaw voice. 'Children, we are off!' The Gamesters cheered as the Phoenix tilted and began to eat distance.

When the 'fasten seat belts' pictogram clicked off, their one-man welcoming committee stood and bowed shallowly to them. 'I would like to introduce myself to all of you. I am Kasan Maibang, and I will be your guide and liaison with the people of my island.' Chester stood now, his facial lines gone angular with eagerness. 'Your island. Then you know where we're going? And what our quest is?'

Kasan's smile was innocent. 'Of course, Mr. Henderson. You do not think that your government would send you on such a per­ilous adventure without benefit of a guide?'

'Our government...' Chester absorbed that. 'No, of course not. I assume you have our briefing sheets?'