“What?” Wayne’s expression of wounded innocence suddenly transformed into genuine confusion.
“If I find out you were betting, and that had anything to do with your little speech… well, I just wanted to be certain that I’d given you a choice.”
Wayne searched Scotty’s face, and found nothing in the cold smile to ease his mind.
“I… I’m not sure,” he said finally.
“I’ll flip a coin,” Scotty said.
Back in Heinlein base, Kendra fought to keep her heart in the calm center of an emotional cyclone. “So we found the connection with the Republic of Kikaya. We have two men here in Heinlein who have relations there, is that right?”
“That’s true,” her assistant said. “That’s true. It’s in their personnel files-Thomas and Douglas Frost were orphaned in childhood. Their father was Kikayan, and the mother fled the continent and came to America.”
“The heir to the Kikayan throne held captive. Revolt in Kikaya. Two Kikayan expats. That’s not a pattern, it’s motive, means and opportunity. Where are they now?”
The assistant chorded his keyboard. “They’ve both been on duty since the game began. Thomas in the farms, and Doug on a construction gig to the south.”
“And now?” Kendra asked.
“I believe that… Doug is off duty, and Thomas is on. But again, they’ve both been on duty since…” Her assistant examined the screen more carefully.
“What is it?”
“This is odd. We have a data anomaly. I think that some of the coding has been… suppressed.”
“What does that mean?”
“Well…,” Foxworthy said, “that was a level-three security facility, and the security has only been set at level two.”
“How is that possible?”
“This is some kind of a short-term patch, but… hmm. I’ll undo it, and run the data again.”
“What do you think it’s about?” She paused. “Let me get someone on Earth familiar with the science behind our security system.”
In five minutes, they were linked to a fiftyish Brit woman with a sleepy expression and a tightly pursed mouth. Dr. Phelps, the name bar announced.
Phelps twisted her pert little mouth. “Well… based upon what you’ve told me, the retinal patterns might not have been analyzed properly.”
“And what does that accomplish?”
Three seconds of delay, then:
“Perhaps,” Phelps said, “one twin pretending to be both?”
“Excuse me?” Kendra said.
Another delay, while the doctor cleared her throat and assumed a professorial tone. “Identical-or monozygotic-twins form when a single fertilized egg splits in two after conception. Because they form from a single zygote, the two individuals will have the same genetic makeup. Their DNA is virtually indistinguishable. However, things like fingerprints and retinal patterns are not an entirely genetic characteristic. Scientists,” she said, “love to use this topic as an example of the old ‘nature versus nurture’ debate. Retinal patterns, along with other physical characteristics, are an example of a phenotype-meaning that it is determined by the interaction of Thomas’-”
“Or Douglas’.”
“-genes and the developmental environment.” It had taken a few seconds for Kendra’s interjection to travel a quarter-million miles to Earth, and for Phelps to realize she had been interrupted. “Yes, Ms. Griffin?”
“You’re saying it’s possible, depending on the sensitivity of our sensors, that one brother could pretend to be another.”
“Why yes. But why?”
A pause. “Well, I can think of one reason,” Kendra said. “So that one brother could be inside the game with no one on the outside realizing it. Dr. Phelps, thank you very much. I’ll be in touch if there is anything else.” She clicked the line off.
“Why?” Foxworthy asked. “Why would they go to all this trouble? We can’t touch anyone in there. If the kidnappers have an escape figured, they can take the twins with them.”
“Yes. So it’s not just about escape. It’s that there is something useful that the other brother can do outside that he can’t do while inside the gaming dome.”
Her assistant began to chord. “I’m putting a tracer on them. Actions and movements of both brothers for the last forty-eight hours.”
“Wristlamps,” Darla said, distributing bracelets with bulbed nodes at the center. “Found an emergency stash of ’em.” Scotty slipped his on, flexed his wrist, and watched the bright beam splash against the wall. Nice. Darla knelt tracing a map in dust on the floor with her fingertip. “All right. We have to go through this dome to reach a hatch where we could get down a piece.”
“And then?”
“Four levels down and we might be able to get straight to the underground pool. That’s where all of this was supposed to end, you know.”
Angelique managed a tired, wan smile. “Not sure you were supposed to tell us that.”
“Xavier can sue me. Come on.”
She tugged at the door. It opened, and they entered a triangular corridor, unadorned with gaming gear. They moved forward into it.
Sharmela seemed to test every footfall. “Doesn’t look like this was a part of the game, does it?”
“No,” Darla said. “But the next bubble is, so there may be some backup power on.”
Angelique touched Scotty’s shoulder, as if trying to siphon off a bit of his pain. “Where did you leave Asako?”
“In her pod. In an airlock. We’ll have to get it later.”
“If there is a later,” Wayne said.
“There’s always a ‘later’-for someone,” Scotty said. “Let’s make sure it’s us.”
The next door opened. The gamers stepped in.
29
1350 hours
Clusters of mushroom shapes shadowed bubble 60-E. As they watched, lights glowed to life. The air crackled, and suddenly the walls and ceiling seemed to fly back, expand by a factor of three. The bubble expanded into a gigantic cavern, complete with staggered rows of stalagmites, and a hundred varieties of fungus.
Angelique was the first to speak. “Wow,” was all she could manage.
In Heinlein, something new had happened in gaming central as a light popped up on the gaming map.
Wu Lin turned. “Xavier? We have a blip in the fungus farm. Someone has entered.”
He spun heel-toe. “Have we got visual?”
“No. But I’m still trying.”
“Auditory?”
Wu Lin shook her head. “Not yet.”
“But you will continue to try, yes?”
“Yes,” she said.
