Larry Niven, Steven Barnes

Dream Park

CAST OF CHARACTERS. DRAMATIS PERSONNAE

The Creators

RICHARD LOPEZ: The world's most respected Game Master, co-author and presently monitor of the South Seas Treasure game.

MITSUKO (Chi-chi) LOPEZ: Richard's wife, partner, co­author, and public representative.

The Players

ACACIA (Panthesilea) GARCIA: Experienced fantasy game player. Warrior.

TONY (Fortunato) MCWHIRTER: Inexperienced gamer, and Acacia's guest. Thief.

CHESTER HENDERSON: Famed Lore Master, leader of the South Seas Treasure party.

GINA (Semiramis) PERKINS: Experienced fantasy gamer. Cleric.

ADOLPH (Ollie, or Frankish Oliver) NORLISS: Experi­enced fantasy gamer. Warrior.

GWEN (Guinevere) RYDER: Fantasy gamer, and Ollie's fiance. Cleric.

MARY-MARTHA (Mary-em) CORBETT: Experienced and highly eccentric gamer. Warrior.

FELICIA (Dark Star) MADDOX: Experienced gamer. Thief.

BOWAN THE BLACK: Dark Star's partner, an experienced Gamer. Magic User.

ALAN LEIGH: Experienced fantasy game player. Magic user.

S.J.WATERS: Novice gamer. Engineer.

OWEN BRADDON: Elderly, moderately experienced gamer. Cleric.

MARGIE BRADDON: Experienced elderly gamer. En­gineer.

HOLLY FROST: Aspiring novice gamer. Warrior.

GEORGE EAMES: Moderately experienced gamer. Warrior.

LARRY GARRET: Moderately experienced gamer. Cleric.

RUDY DREAGER: Moderately experienced Gamer. En­gineer.

HARVEY (Kasan Maibang) WAYLAND: Professional ac­tor. Guide.

NIGORAI: Native bearer and spy. (Actor.)

KAGOIANO: Native bearer. (Actor.)

KIBUGONAI: Native bearer. (Actor.)

PIGIBIDI: Native chieftain. (Actor.)

LADY JANET: Damsel in distress. (Actor.)

GARY (the Griffin) TEGNER: Novice Gamer. Thief. Alias for Alex Griffin.

The Dream Park Personnel

ALEX GRIFFIN: Head of Dream Park Security.

HARMONY: Dream Park Director of Operations.

MILLICENT SUMMERS: Griffin's secretary.

MARTY BOBBICK: Griffin's assistant.

ALBERT RICE: Dream Park security guard.

SKIP O'BRIEN: Dream Park research psychologist.

MELINDA O'BRIEN: Skip's wife.

MS. GAIL METESKY: Dream Park liaison with the Inter­national Fantasy Gaming Society.

ARLAN MYERS: I.F.G.S. official.

DWIGHT WELLES: Dream Park computer tech.

LARRY CHICON: Dream Park computer tech. Together with Welles and the Game Masters, he monitors the Gaming Central computer.

NOVOTNEY: Cowles Modular Community's resident doctor.

MELONE: Dream Park security guard.

PART ONE

Chapter One

ARRIVALS

The train sat rigid as a steel bar, poised in midair above its magnetic monorail track, disgorging passengers into Dallas Sta­tion. Its fifteen cars had borne their passengers in quiet efficiency from New York to Dallas in just over half an hour, cradled in magnetic fields, travelling through vacuum at close to orbital ve­locity, deep underground.

Chester had cut it close. He shifted his heavy backpack and strode back along the train, walking like a king, projecting confidence. There would be Garners aboard, and some would rec­ognize him. Lore Master Chester Henderson was conscious of his unseen audience.

"Chester!"

He stopped, dismayed. He knew that voice—There she was, a vision in leopard tights that drew stares from all but the most jaded. Her long red hair, plaited into a thick rope, dangled down her back to the top of her belt line. She wore heavy makeup that almost hid the fact that she was, indeed, a very lovely woman. But the leotards hid nothing.

"Hello, Gina," Chester sighed with a tone somewhere south of resignation. "I should have guessed you'd be along."

"I wouldn't miss it for anything. Remember last time, when you saved me from the mammoth?"

"Cost me three points for frostbite. I remember."

"Don't complain, it's mean. Anyway, I was very appreciative." She coiled her arm around him and joined him in a rather strained lock-step toward the Dream Park shuttle.

She had been, he remembered, very appreciative. "One of your strong points," he said, and put his arm around her. It felt disturb­ingly good, nestled there between warm curves. "Well, I'm glad you're with us. We may need to pass you off as a virgin or something."

"Would you really?" she giggled. "I've always loved your imag­ination."

Chester didn't smile. "But, Gina... if you're in, you're going to have to follow orders a mite more carefully. You almost screwed me good—stop that, I'm serious. This is extremely impor­tant to me, all right?"

Gina looked up at him and her face grew almost serious. "Any­thing you say, Chester."

Chester groaned to himself as they boarded the train. She had skill; she was better than most newcomers; she carried her weight and sometimes followed orders too. But she treated it like some kind of goddam game.

Alex Griffin took his shuttle seat and settled back with eyes closed and arms folded comfortably. He had long since learned the value of catching bits of rest where he could, and could catnap during minutes most people spent fidgeting.

He stretched, and heard popping sounds as muscles and joints woke up. Small wonder they were still half-asleep. Ten minutes earlier he had been snoring in his apartment at the Cowles Modu­lar Community, with the alarm buzzing in his ears. The third time it went off, it would refuse to shut up until his 190 pounds were lifted from the sensor in the mattress.

He opened a sleepy green eye and watched the rear monitor as the cluster of buildings receded from view. Five hundred Dream Park employees maintained residences in Cowles Modular Com­munity, nestled in the Little San Bernardino Mountains, fifteen kilometers and six shuttle minutes away from work. Griffin was on call twenty-four hours a day, three weeks out of the month, and he appreciated the convenience of CMC. But this morning was nothing special, just the usual 6:00 A.M. roust.

Alex rolled his wrist over to check the watch imprinted on his sleeve. (Expensive indulgence. Even drycleaning eventually messed up the printed circuitry.) Three minutes until the shuttle slid into the employee depot. He had about decided to close his eyes again when the picture in front of him changed.

The woman on the flatscreen might have been beautiful by the light of noon. At 5:56 A.M. she was evil incarnate. "Morning, Chief," she chirped, obscenely wide-awake.

"No. No, it isn't, Millicent." Alex yawned rudely, remotely dis­liking himself for it. He ran blunt fingers through his light red hair and made a serious attempt to focus his eyes. "Oh, what the hay. Maybe it is a good morning. Maybe it'll even be a good day. I'm sorry, Millicent. What's up?"

"Final prep for the South Seas Treasure Game tomorrow is the hottest item. You have some dossiers to go over."

"I know. What else?"

She shook her head, her loosely curled afro bouncing a bit as she studied the computer display on a second screen offscreen. "Umm... budget meeting with the Boss."