Alex couldn't believe his ears. Or his eyes: his bronze mirror shades were innocent of any hints from the GMs. 'Ah-' Remain in character. 'This symbol is death, Kabuna.'
Rrrippp. Cruuuuunch.
'Yes, Bobo, we know. And so is that creature.' Bishop took a quick scan of the Gamers. Corrinda was sitting against a wall with her leg straight out. The Mouser was getting up. Red still glowed in patches on his torso and right arm.
Bishop pulled them aside. 'Listen. So far this Game has made hash of your abilities, Mouser. You're holding your team back. Corrinda, your knee is getting pretty bad; you know you'll have to drop out by tomorrow. Why not be sensible? Take this way out-I can offer you the chance to be voted 'Best Player' and win the Game Masters' discretionary award. What do you say?'
Mouser bared his sharp little teeth. 'You say that to me again, you're gonna fall downstairs for a month.'
'Another time. Corrinda?'
She narrowed her eyes. 'Is this within the rules?'
'Nobody's ever tried it. Next time it'll be illegal. This time, it's a free ride.'
Where does that stairway go? Alex thought. Into the residential quarters? Jesus. And then out through a false wall into the next Gaming level. He couldn't think of an excuse to stop them. As long as they didn't vandalize…
Corrinda was weighing her options. 'Let me get this straight. I sacrifice myself for the good of my team, and I am a guaranteed hero.'
'And you go down in the record books. This hasn't ever been done before. It will probably result in the 'Harding Principle.' '
She grinned evilly. 'I like it.'
Where was McWhirter? Dammit, Elmo thought, they were in the middle of the Game, and here came another problem. McWhirter deserved his breaks, yes, but Elmo had never seen so much rule-bending in all of his life.
McWhirter seemed to be preoccupied elsewhere, with some problem that had to do with the Security man now playing Bobo. The DreamTime routines were working automatically, but…
Elmo was getting the fits about this. Bishop had found one lulu of a loophole, and now that he had it, it would fit his profile to use it up. The only option was to change the rules concerning the Nekro seal, next time. This time it was too late.
Elmo wanted to do this one personally. 'Doris, I'm going in,' he said. He switched off his throat mike and stepped up onto the Virtual stage. Doris stepped back and watched: Elmo wasn't a masterful mime, but he was great fun to watch.
He adjusted his goggles. A Virtual Corrinda knelt in front of the door, actually picking the lock. Not a simple task, either-the locks were both mechanically and electronically sealed. Game locks could be just as difficult to crack as real ones; many Thieves developed actual criminal skills.
Corrinda used a combination of fiber-optic probe and computer tap. She anchored herself into the data line, opened it up, and used a processor in her belt pod to determine its protocol.
Twenty seconds later, the door clicked open.
Elmo spread his arms…
There was a thing in the doorway, a creature made of dust and cobwebs, something so old that it had fallen almost completely apart, holding itself together only by the application of dark magicks, arts beyond the ken of man.
Corrinda's triumphant expression gave way to terror.
She tried to scream, but it was cut short by the touch of a spectral hand. She and the creature both fell to dust.
Corrinda's ears buzzed. The buzz became Elmo's voice, a voice as warm and welcoming as a blizzard. 'Kindly roll to the side. Your character is irrevocably dead. Not just for this Game. Corrinda Scout/Thief has been registered as dead in the IFGS computers.'
Her Virtual world went gray. In dull confusion, she watched her companions travel on in the land of the living without her.
The door shut behind them.
As soon as it did, a black-suited stage troll popped out of a hidden door and hoisted her to her feet.
'That,' he said, 'was the stupidest stunt I've ever seen.'
'I–I reinjured my knee. It was locking up again, click every time I move. I would have let my team down.'
'You should have,' the troll said disgustedly. 'You're not just out of the Game. Your character's dead.'
He led her through a side maze of passages, leading her ultimately to Security, and Gaming Central.
She was fascinated by the room, by the huge arc of ceiling and the background sounds of computers and human activity.
Richard Lopez examined her curiously. 'Congratulations,' he said. 'You have just made history.'
She managed a smile.
'Bishop played you very well.'
Her smile faltered. 'What do you mean?'
'He got you kicked out of the Game. People have made it through with injuries before. Worse, you are dead- dead, lady. Corrinda the Thief is gone. Forever. You spent eight years building her up into a Thirteenth Level Thief? Gone. Start over from scratch, if you can.' His dark face was even darker with rage. 'I talk to my friends, and I know everyone.' His tone was deadly quiet.
'But Bishop suggested it!'
'And you can be sure he knew the consequences. To you. If you were the Bishop, you might get away with it. You're not. There is only one Bishop.'
He paused. Temporarily, his anger had been leavened by pity. 'And that may be one too many. Well. You might as well break into civies. Settle back, take care of that knee, and watch the Game.' He motioned with his head to the troll: the audience was over.
Corrinda was escorted out. She felt confused, uncertain, and more than a little scared.
Lopez returned to his palette. Everything was working smoothly right now. All of the routines were running, and he was just beginning to feel fatigue. How long had he been on duty? Twelve hours? That was fine. Gamers should start breaking down for early dinner soon. With the Game divided into two main groups, that was manageable.
He scanned the room. Everything was going well, but Where was McWhirter?
Tony McWhirter was exhausted. It had been a long, tiring day so far, and it wasn't over yet. Game Masters were allotted breaks during the eight to sixteen hours of daily up-time. In California Voodoo there would be more free-floating optional breaks than usual, because the Gamers had been given no solid down-times. Even so, he felt guilty being away from the desk.
But he had to see Millicent.
He used a holo wall in one of the empty offices outside the Game regions. Dream Park was closed down, but many of the executive offices were still open.
She answered after three beeps, just a still photo of her face and a voice saying, 'Yes?'
'Don't worry about your makeup. It's just Tony McWhirter.'
The air rippled, and the real Millicent appeared in front of him, still wearing elements of her Mallsters makeup. Despite his fatigue, Tony giggled.
'You've found yourself. How did it go?'
Her smile was marginal. 'Fine. I liked it a lot better than I like this.' She tapped a stack of paper on her desk.
'What have you got?'
She had two computer screens on simultaneously. 'I've been tracing back her financial records, including a few things that I really shouldn't have been looking into. Thanks for the passkey program, Tony. I'm now a partner in crime.'
'I've wanted to corrupt you for well, months. What did you get?'
