He draped that arm around Acacia now, imprisoning her right arm, her sword arm. Alphonse saw her left hand flex; a small knife dropped into it. Dark didn't notice. 'Let's do lunch! Tell us all about your voyage. We so seldom see new faces…'
They were welcomed by an amazing swarm, at least several hundred people. Every palm Al pressed, every grazing shoulder, was flesh and blood. Damn! Wasn't anybody a hologram anymore?
Scouts scanned for traps and Clerics for spells. They found nothing.
Al managed to get up next to Dark, matching his long stride. 'You people are pretty comfortable here.'
'Yes.' Dark smiled. 'The gods have been kind.'
Which gods?
They passed dozens of children, and hundreds of adults. Maybe two or three hundred just within easy range of sight. More traversed bridges in the Mall, talking and shopping, and others worked at craft boutiques.
Without being too obvious, Al stepped to the edge of a railing and peered down into MIMIC's central well.
They may well have been on the second level, but there were at least three more levels beneath them. Something pulsed greenly down there. Alphonse grabbed Twan Tsing.
She languidly set her fingernails against his knuckles. 'Remove,' she said sweetly.
He lifted his hand. 'Twan. Down three levels. Something glowing. What do you think?'
'Take your distance,' she said, but looked.
She adjusted her visor, whispered some words, and then turned back. She bowed. 'Most grateful, honorable barbarian.' And she hurried off to tell Tammi what she'd seen.
He'd lost his own Engineer. He would have to perform a ceremony later, raise Peggy the Hook from the dead and try to get information that way…
Damn, damn, damn.
They were taken to a restaurant named Brio, on the edge of the pavilion. It was the kind of restaurant that tried to evoke Parisian street scenes, with limited success. Little tables were crested by multicolored metal umbrellas, surrounded by metal frame chairs with wicker plastic seats.
They were seated, and Dark lauded them.
'Once, we filled this building,' he said, 'but we have been driven down by the walking dead above!' His people gathered around in a ring, sealing the restaurant off from the rest of the Mall. Alphonse took a count. Roughly fifty, among twenty-four remaining Gamers. He felt nauseated with alarm.
'…are powerful. They are the minions of the voodoun of the upper levels.'
Captain Cipher woke up. ''You practice voodoo yourselves?'
'Oh, no.' Dark smiled. 'We are good Christian folk.'
And a minute ago you said, 'The gods have been kind-'
Dark's smile deepened. He said casually, 'We hear you have powerful magic. That you were able to see them despite their cloak of night. Is this true?'
Nigel answered without a pause. 'We were lucky.'
'Ahh… I think that you are modest as well as powerful. A true mark of greatness!'
He raised his arms, and Alphonse noticed that they were thick with old, heavy muscle. Dark ate well. Those teeth…
'My people! We have powerful visitors! Together we may be able to wrest our rightful heritage away from the blood-eaters of the upper levels!'
Waiters appeared. Natives emerged from the shops, dressed in wild variety, chattering and peering curiously. They smiled. Alphonse waved cheerily. Just folks, you betcha!
'Little lady, can you keep your right hand on your sword and pass that catfish with your left?'
'Let's see,' Acacia said brightly.
Muzak bleated a tired melody as toothy, cheerful, perfectly tanned waiters with weight-lifter physiques brought trays of catfish, fresh hot bread, and endless streams of orange juice. The plates were decent china, badly chipped, from several sets.
'Where does the bread come from?' Alphonse asked Dark. 'And the orange juice?'
'We trade with those on the upper levels,' the big man answered. 'They have things that we lack. We have things that they need. The balance is all that has kept us alive!'
Alphonse had lost his Cleric. Gen-Dyn's Tamasan was seated at his table, but out of earshot; and he was Bishop's man. Mati 'Top Nun' Cohen was closer.
Al bent sideways and said, 'Truce. If there's an attack, you can tuck in next to me.'
'That comfort failed Friar Duck,' Top Nun said conversationally.
'Cut him from asshole to appetite, but it wasn't my fault.'
'True, he was a klutz. Let's hear the offer, bube.'
'Bless this food, little lady. Add my power to yours. If you can detect anything-poison, whatever-let me know.'
She thought for a moment, and then said, 'Tell you what-you truce with me for the rest of the day?'
'Sure.'
'Mazal top so you've got a partner.' Top Nun spread her hands. 'Our Father who art in heaven, bless this nosh, from knish to schnapps. Reveal any and all meshuge traps. Amen.'
She shut her eyes hard and then opened them again. 'Clean as a whistle.'
He looked over at the other tables. All surviving Gamers had performed similar ceremonies, if Cleric or Wizard were available. Bishop's rounded little Shinto monk didn't look happy, but he was eating everything in sight.
Not the slightest hint of trouble.
Al's neck itched.
Top Nun, her little brown face a pleasant oval in her hood, nibbled daintily at her catfish. Her enormous brown eyes widened even further, pronouncing it good. 'Eat, eat. You're a skeleton,' she complained.
Thaddeus Dark stood and raised his glass. 'Let us toast our new friends '
Alphonse wasn't listening; he was scanning the food. Clean. It was common to provide meals during a Game, and the food tested clean… but it was Game Time, and anything could happen, and Thaddeus Dark was too bloody massive…
Hunger won out over caution, and he bit into a catfish fillet.
Delicious.
And one at a time, all of the Gamers were dropping their defences, concentrating on the meal at hand. A few Magic Users still surreptitiously scanned, but there just wasn't anything wrong with the food.
In fact, the catfish was crispy and hot, the croissants fluffy. The orange juice must have been fresh- squeezed.
Captain Cipher approached Top Nun and whispered something in her ear. They huddled.
The back of Al's neck, never completely calm, began itching furiously. He didn't much like Cipher. The man was how do you say? Fragrant? Alphonse wished for a breeze, a breeze to put him upwind of the good Captain.
Cipher and Top Nun linked hands and began to chant.
Cipher blinked hard, said, 'Whoa,' and then linked up again. He spoke in hushed tones, but Alphonse could still hear them. 'Whoa. I'm getting the-'
'Brother Cipher, you're such a mensch,' Top Nun said. She cast around the table and finally settled on Alphonse. 'Brother Alphonse, if you want in on this, give me thy hand.''
Al flipped down his visor. Everybody around the tables looked the same as before. Then he linked hands Aw, shit.
An aura flickered red/black/red/black around half of the Adventurers. His own hands bore the same mark.
'We're being poisoned.'
Alphonse's fingers gripped the table. 'This really chaps my ass. How could it happen? '
Cipher's protruding eyes rolled in something near panic. 'It isn't just magic and it isn't just chemicals. Magical poison… not a strange concept, not at all. Witches and shamans always used poisons and magic both-'
'Stop wringing your click and get on with it. '
