steps he had dwindled to a point.
It was in the notes, Clavell crowed. Chango fears skulls!
Mary-em lay on the floor, apparently unconscious.
He rushed to her and did a quick scan. Magically speaking, she was alive and healthy, but…
'Oh, shit,' he said.
The cable had started to creak. The modular room was being hauled back up. The gods had decided to be merciful, he guessed.
Mary-em raised herself to a sitting position. 'What happened?'
'I've got good news and bad news,' Clavell said.
'All right, give me the good news?'
'We defeated Chango. And we don't have to climb back up that damned line which is especially good news for you.'
'Why?' Her eyes crinkled at the edges. 'Coming down was fun.'
'Sure was. But now you're pregnant.'
18
'Oggun is the god of war and metals. He favers black dogs as his food…'
Thursday, July 21, 2059 — 3:40 P.M.
Alex Griffin stared numbly as Tony McWhirter's image blossomed on the wall before him. 'What is it?' He felt his lips moving, but it sounded as if he were speaking in someone else's voice.
'Some stuff just came in through personnel, Griff. I broke the seal on Sharon's files, and I've done some poking around. She might have been supplying someone with Game specs that might mean betting. There's big money at stake, and that's the oldest motivation in the world. Second oldest, maybe.'
Griffin's eyes were as cold as rifle barrels. 'Can the humor. I'm coming down to Central. I want complete dossiers on everyone in that Game.'
'It doesn't have to be someone in the Game, Alex. It could be an outside gambler who wants an inside edge.'
'But it isn't, is it?'
Tony hesitated, then said, 'No, Alex. It's not.'
Alex Griffin was down in the office in ninety-two seconds. The personnel files were already flowing in the air in front of McWhirter.
Alex studied them, and Tony waited for his reaction as Acacia Garcia's file floated up. Alex's hands white- knuckled on the chair back.
'You didn't know she was in California Voodoo?' Tony asked.
'I guess I managed not to notice. Panthesilea…'
Acacia had been with Tony eight years before, until South Seas Treasure. Then Tony went to prison and Acacia went to Griffin. She liked dangerous, manipulative Games. And maybe dangerous, manipulative men. Maybe she just traded up.
'Alex?' Tony said quietly. 'Acacia has been linked romantically with Nigel Bishop.'
' The Nigel Bishop? Who came out of retirement for this Game? That I heard about.' Alex's green eyes narrowed as his brain went into overdrive. 'I want into that Game. Now.'
'Wait a minute-'
'For what? We're losing time, dammit.'
'Give me fifteen minutes,' Tony said. His fingers tapped independently. 'I've got even less time than you do, but you especially have got to see this.'
Replay: the Mami Wata ceremony, a view across the rooftop pond toward men who waited to rescue drowning women. Tony McWhirter's voice told Major Clavell that he had been possessed. When the voice said, 'Now!' Clavell struck like a rattlesnake.
'The Army's Loremaster,' Tony said. 'Guess what it would do to Army's odds to lose the major?'
Clavell killed a second man. The Bishop stepped forward, dropped his weapons Tony's fingers tapped. Alex barely noticed when a second window popped up next to the first. Green threads wove through the air: the Las Vegas betting graphs.
Alex was busy watching Bishop as he trounced Clavell. 'Very nice. Excellent, in fact. Aikido, maybe.'' Alex's tone implied grudging admiration. 'Why would Bishop save Army's ass, Tony? He's Gen-Dyn's Loremaster.'
'Weird, yes? Bad enough if Bishop bet on himself, but that isn't what we're looking at. Six hundred thousand dollars got itself bet on Army.'
Army's odds traced a jagged icicle: steeply down and steeply up as Army's Loremaster was doomed, then saved. A shallow stalactite on Gen-Dyn's line marked the moment when Bishop stepped forward with empty hands. Vegas had known the risks. And Tony was still talking. 'I followed twenty trails so far, tracking the money. I got lost a few times, but the rest all went through Ecuador.'
'Ecuador? Why Ecuador?'
'I haven't the remotest. You'd think he'd scatter his footprints more.'
Alex mulled it. 'Tony, could Bishop force a win for Army?'
'Alex, I… no. Yes. Hell, I don't think so, but I want to ask the Lopezes what they think. A better question might be: Is Bishop egotistical enough to believe he can do it?'
'Okay. Call costuming for me, I'm on my way.' The Griffin stormed out of Gaming Central.
For ten seconds Tony didn't move or make a sound, then he exhaled in a long, noisy sigh. He leaned back and stretched his fingers.
Why not Ecuador?
At least the Griffin hadn't asked him why he was studying gambling curves. But maybe he hadn't needed to ask…
Thursday, July 21, 2059 — 5:00 P.M.
Creeping on all fours, Acacia Garcia peeked around the corner of the hallway. The other Adventurers were behind her, eyes on her upraised hand mostly. Several eyes were watching her delightful gluteal muscles as they clenched and released rhythmically.
She held up a palm, fingers outstretched, and then made a fist.
Get ready.
The palm opened. No immediate danger.
The room was dark and quiet, an alcove off a main hallway on the fifteenth floor. The hallway was bordered by a chain-and-pipe railing, which lipped a sunken dining area complete with tables and chairs. Here, long ago, malted milks and slushed ice drinks had been consumed by doomed, famished teenagers. A sobering thought.
Metal boxes within the room flickered with light, occasionally sparking or smoking. Some of the boxes were as tall as Thaddeus Dark, and some of them were emblazoned with readable emblems.
XAXXON, one said. Another said MARIO BROTHERS CONQUER THE UNIVERSE. And another: WAR OF THE POD DEMONS.
A video arcade.
There had been earthquake damage. Two of the walls had a wavy look. Most of the third wall had collapsed, shattering several games and opening a way into an adjacent jewelry store. From beneath the rubble came a fitful
