Larry Niven - The California Voodoo Game

It could be anywhere, dammit, and the intent… What was it waiting to see? The only thing going on now was California Voodoo. The bug must be in place for later use. The microburst transmissions: mere noise…

But they'd led Tony straight here!

So the bursts were system tests? They had to be tests. There simply wasn't anything worth scanning here. Just a bunch of Gamers, fighting monsters in Ile Ife…

Mmm? A rival Gaming company? Disney Japan? Could Dream Park secrets be revealed by But dammit, every feed going out to standard monitors showed everything there was to see! Unless the ScanNet cameras showed things about special-effects techniques that ordinary cameras wouldn't?

What if, Tony thought, the real purpose of the entire exercise was to use ScanNet to analyze DreamTime, Cowles Industries' patented holographic and Virtual technology?

He had to find an office, call someone. Mitch. This tap could record information, and then maybe relay it to a transmitter that could reach outside MIMIC's cocoon of protection. At least I've got this!

"Let me get this straight," Hasegawa said. "You think Nigel Bishop is tapping the security lines to get a better look at DreamTime technology?"

"Yes."

Mitch Hasegawa shook his holographic head. "I don't buy it. In order for that to really be profitable, he would have to have access to the main banks. He only had access to the substations. They gather information and pass it on, get it?

They filter out, to keep the main banks from overload, but they don't interpret. And that's what he'd need."

Tony sighed.

"And anyway, why all of the rigmarole with the gambling, and the impossible bet?"

"It's a blind," Tony said. "He had to figure that somebody might see through part of his plan. This gives us a maze to chase through."

"But we won't chase through it forever."

"It keeps us busy for long enough. Till the Game's over."

"Makes sense." Mitch reached for his cutoff switch. "Gotta get back you know, you're not really supposed to be working on this. Not anymore."

"That makes it easier, Mitch. No pressure."

Mitch winked out, leaving Tony with wheels still spinning madly in his head and a silent giggle bubbling in his throat. No pressure!

Sharon Crayne, who needed help finding the child she gave up.

Nigel Bishop, who needed information only an insider could give him.

Acacia Garcia, partnered with Bishop…

In an impossible venture?

As a blind, the ''forced win" scenario was a good bet. Say Bishop could get five to one on Army. Bishop knew his own team was doomed: that's four to one. Any move Bishop made-nothing too overt, but no obvious opportunity ignored either-would help their chances. Three to one? A good bet, if you didn't bet your ass.

He couldn't make it a certainty, and he had to know it. But Acacia didn't! What if he had her so dazzled she believed that he could pull it off? He'd have a perfect accomplice, one who would bend the rules supposedly for money, while helping Bishop cover something bigger. Nastier.

Something involving the Barsoom Project and its billions of dollars. And some entity in Ecuador powerful enough to pierce Embryadopt's defences through diplomatic channels.

Or something involving Gaming: say, DreamTime Virtual display techniques…

Both had something in common. Tony could feel it, could taste its shape. A territory of the mind, an area bounded by Ecuador, Sharon Crayne, Acacia, MIMIC, the Barsoom Project, the California Voodoo Game and Nigel Bishop.

He could hear Richard Lopez saying, "It will be simple. Very simple. It will only appear to be complex."

He rubbed his temples. "Why can't I see it? Goddamn it, Richard! I'm a Game Master, too."

There were ten minutes left in the hour break when Alex Griffin returned. Mary-em was in animated conversation with Acacia when he came upon them. They exchanged a brief glance, and Mary-em wandered off to get some water.

Griffin pulled Acacia aside. His fingers were tight on her arm, his voice deadly urgent. "Bishop is up to something, Acacia, and you're in on it. If it's gambling, and that's all it is, I'm not interested. Keep your goddamned money. But I have to know. Now. This is your last chance. If you lie to me now, and I find out, with God as my witness I will nail you to the barn. Do you understand me? Last chance."

She opened her mouth, closed it again. Searched for lies, searched his taut, strained face for mercy, and found neither. Abruptly, all of the terror she had repressed came bubbling to the surface. She had trusted Nigel. Alex asked her to trust him. And he said that he didn't care about the gambling. That he was after something bigger.

She had to take the chance.

Acacia took his arm and led him away from the gazebo. They found a bench and sat. She began to whisper. "Right after the Game was announced," she said, "Nigel called me. We hadn't had an affair or anything, but I knew him, and I'd heard the stories." She stopped for a moment, as if lost in memories.

"Go on," he said flatly.

"We became lovers. I guess that's what you'd have to call it. I don't know what he thought."

Alex had the urge to push her a little more, to coax her. He made himself wait, and finally that patience was rewarded.

"I guess I fell in love with him, with his way of being, of doing things, and of seeing the world. He convinced me that there were bigger games to play, and that together we could play them. I guess I fell for it."

"I can see where this is leading."

"I'm sure. He felt that if we could both get into a Game together, we could fix a superbowl, force a win for one of the other teams. He showed me how it could be done, theoretically…"

"How?"

"The first step is to consolidate three of the other teams into a caravan. Then, on some pretence, capture the team you want to force into the winning position. It gives you an excuse to protect them, see? Then create weaknesses in the other teams so that a vital skill, necessary for the winning of the Game, can only be found in the 'captive' team."

"Sounds simple."

"I hope you're being sarcastic."

"Yes."

Her voice rose. "It's unbelievably complicated. You have to have a very precise understanding of the makeup of all of the other teams, and advance knowledge of the Game itself, particularly the endgame."

"How much inside data did Bishop have?"

"Hard to say what he knew and what he extrapolated. He might be the smartest man I've ever met."

He looked into her eyes, and there was a brief shrug, but no apology.

He tried another tactic. "You know that a security officer died. What you don't know is that a model of MIMIC's security setup might have been stolen. Did you see anything like that?"

She shook her head. "No. He has a lot of information. He's had it for months, on the Game, on the Gamers. The only thing I can say is that the night that the security woman died-"

Griffin grabbed her wrists. "I didn't say it was a woman."

Acacia talked very fast. Hysteria was creeping into her voice, and she couldn't meet his eyes. "I knew from one of your own security people Hasegawa, I think that something was wrong on Wednesday, Alex. I used one of Nigel's programs to break into your communication lines. I listened. I'm so sorry, Alex." She was starting to cry.

"Jesus." He slackened his grip.

"She was important to you, wasn't she?"

Alex nodded.

Acacia said, "I'll tell you anything I can."

"How did you communicate? Did you have a dead-drop system, or what?"

"One of these," she said. She unscrewed the hilt of her belt knife and shook out one of the little three-pronged communicators. "It uses MIMIC's electrical circuitry."