A man was stuck up to his waist in quicksand, or the Dream Park equivalent thereof. He was big, with thick shoulders and neck. Another jock warrior, Tony bet himself silently. The man had close-cropped red hair and an unsaintly look of irritation on his face. "Get me the hell out of here, will you?"

Chester was laughing, hands on knees, standing as close to the quicksand as he dared. "Well hello there, stranger. I've been ex­pecting you. Who exactly are you, and why should we trouble our­selves to rescue you?"

"I'm the Griffin. I'm the best Thief in the world."

"Excuse me." Dark Star tossed her head, bouncing her short brown hair. "And just how do you think you deserve that title, Mr. Titanic? Leave him, Chester."

"Now, now. Let's have no quarreling over matters of rank. We're all equal here, except me of course. Still, her point is well taken. On what grounds rest your claim to greatness? Hurry, now, I do believe you're an inch or so shorter than you were a minute ago."

The man looked down at his waist and grimaced. "Well, I stole the Emerald Eye from the sacred statue of Katmandu."

"Not bad. Anything else?"

The man shifted uncomfortably in the muck. Tony reflected that the stuff must itch like crazy. "I filched the Silken Bellows from the temple of Kosell the Wind God."

"My. That must have been exciting." Chester covered a yawn. "If you've never done anything bigger than that, we may have to lend you a snorkel."

"All right. Last try. I have the only existing black market print of Star Wars."

"Woops." Chester paused respectfully. "A slight anachronism, seeing as we're in New Guinea circa 1955 or so, but the point is well made. We'll get you out, S.J., you've earned a rest. Where's our other Engineer? Let's get Rudy Dreager out here."

Dreager, a short stout man with a bulky backpack and a sun­burn-red complexion, hustled out and began taking mental meas­urements. His voice was a squeak. "No really solid trees to use as a pulley, so I'll need some help with the line. Eames, would you be kind enough? Thank you."

Eames looked miffed to be thanked before he had consented, but he stepped forward and took the end of the thin nylon line Dreager offered him. The chunky little man threw the other end to the trapped Thief, who wound the end of it round one wrist and held on with the other hand. The procedure was clumsy but effec­tive, and with an obscene sucking sound, he came free of the mire.

The Thief wiped his leather trousers partly clear of mud and smiled cynically. "I guess after an introduction like that I'd better be worth it."

"He's a mind reader, Chester," Dark Star sniffed.

Chester hushed her with a look. "You aren't who I was expect­ing, so I assume you're a guest of the Dream Gods?"

"Well put. I can promise to pull my weight, though."

Dark Star scratched one of her stubby ears. "Do you expect us to share our supplies with you?"

"Ray of sunshine, aren't you? It so happens that I know the lo­cation of a substantial quantity of supplies." He paused for effect, then added, "Including a couple of six-packs."

All reservation dissolved in that instant. Oliver shook his hand heartily. "Glad to meet you. My name's Oliver. What's yours?"

"Griffin."

"All right, Griffin. Let's find your supplies and break for lunch."

Chester looked at his watch, then squinted up at the "sun" that burned on the inner surface of the covering dome. "If I were a sundial I'd say it was three o'clock or so, but I know it's only eleven-thirty. Somebody's collapsing time on us and I wonder why... ?" The last words were almost under his breath, and Chester shook himself back to alertness. "Fall in with Mary-em. She'll protect you until we see what you can do."

"Her protect me?" There was an incredulous edge to Griffin's voice, broken off as small strong fingers dug into his arm.

"Come on, handsome. If Mary-em has to nursemaid somebody, at least you've got a decent body to guard." She crinkled an eye at him speculatively. "Naw," she said finally.

Griffin tried to fix a friendly, or failing that, at least a neutral expression on his face. "Well, let's go."

"Let's."

"The goods are about a hundred meters that way-" he pointed toward a slightly less marshy s'tretch of ground, and the Garners headed in that direction, eagerly.

"My name is Acacia," the dark-haired girl said, sitting down next to him. "But you can call me Panthesilea."

"A chrysanthemum by any other name..." he grinned at her, and downed a forkful of pork and beams. His feet were bare, socks and shoes laid out in the sun to dry.

A lantern-jawed man with shaggy black hair staggered up the slope with a beer in either hand. The foam plastic "cans" had been suspended in a shadowed pool of water, and were pleasantly cool... cooler than the water, in fact. The newcomer said, "I'm Tony McWhirter." He tossed a can to Acacia, who caught it neatly. "Dark Star and I are the other Thieves on the expedition." He plopped himself down next to Acacia, sighed with content­ment, then ducked as she playfully sprayed him with beer foam.

Griffin asked, "Have you been on many of these?"

"Nope. This is my first one. The lovely lady dragged me along. You?"

"My first time too. I supervise Gavagan's Bar. It's one of the Dream Park restaurants. That's what got me in."

"That old demon wanderlust got to you, huh?"

"Something like that. These people kept stumbling into the place, dirty, exhausted, grinning all over their faces. I finally had to find out what it was like." Griffin was quoting the real Gary Tegner almost word for word. He knew Gavagan's well enough, and he'd found the time to talk to the Gavagan's Bar manager for nearly half an hour.

He'd been very busy these last few hours. Someone else had packed the backpack he had found waiting with the beer. Pres­ently he'd have to search through it, to see if anything had been forgotten.

Tony regarded Griffin's shoulders and arms casually, noting the way small muscles bunched and writhed in the man's forearms as he turned his fork. "You know, I would have thought a man like you would want to be a Warrior."

"Don't like blood. I like skulldng about in dark corridors, and outwitting the forces of justice. You?"

"Thief is what my Wessler-Grahm came out to. As a fighter, I wouldn't have lasted more than a minute against the oversized tur­keys yesterday."

Acacia laughed and touched Tony's arm lightly. Oliver chimed in. GriffIn scooted over a couple of inches and patted the ground

next to him. Oliver sat down, followed by Gwen. Griffin asked, "How did you do?"

"Against the big birds? Not bad. I didn't kill one by myself, but I crippled two of them, and somebody else finished them off. Not a whole lot for my individual points, but the group points will be good, so I'm not worried about it. I'm worried about my little darlin' here." Gwen snuggled her back against his; she was facing the other way, pretending not to listen to the conversation. "She hasn't really had a chance to strut her stuff yet."

Now Gwen turned around. "Don't worry about me. What about Tony and Dark Star? There hasn't been any call for Thieves at all."

"Aha." Griffin chewed for a bit, then explained. "I've been wondering why she came on so strong. Really attacked me."

Acacia agreed readily. "Yes, you're probably right. This expe­dition has been a field day so far for Warriors and Wizards. Not too shabby for Engineers either. I think Dark Star is worried about her points." She tsked condescendingly.

"May I assume that you and the lady in question aren't on the best of terms?"

"We aren't on any terms at all. I just don't warm to her, that's all. Don't know exactly why, except that I seem to remember something about her cheating in a Game." Acacia seemed sud­denly alarmed. "Don't tell her I said that, though, okay?"