"Lucky coincidence, Margie. I had to see who might jump when he heard that the guard was dead."

Hope bloomed on McWhirter's face. "Then you weren't sure I knew!"

"It's still murder, Tony. Any death that occurs in the course of a felony is murder. I'm sorry."

"Yeah. So the hell am I."

"Get your things."

There was no sound from the others as Tony walked stiff-legged to his backpack at the rim of the campfire circle. He lifted it with a long, tortured sigh, and slapped the sand off.

In the wavering light, he looked like an old, old man, shadows furrowing his face into antiquity. He was stiff and slow as he walked back to rejoin Griffin. He turned to the other Garners and whispered, "I'm sorry. God, I'm so sorry. Cas... I picked that fight, the first night." She tried to turn away, and couldn't. "Cas, when I saw how tough it was going to be, I knew I had to get it done the first night, before I got killed out, so-"

"Stop it," she whispered.

"I love you, babe. That's all."

Holly Frost broke the silence that followed, giving voice to the idea hiding in every mind. "Hell, Griffin, why can't you wait for a few more hours?"

An absurd thought, but Alex could feel himself becoming de­fensive. "There's no way I can do that. A man is dead."

"Can any of us bring him back?" Margie tried to shush Holly, but there was no stopping her now. "I mean, why don't you give us a break? I travelled over a thousand miles to be here. Now you're teffing me that it doesn't matter what happens to me or any of us as long as you get your man."

"It's my job." Griffin felt himself blushing in the dark. You're not really leaving them to their deaths. It's just a game!

Just a game. The joy and the sweat were just a game. The lovemaking and the beer busts and the songs and the tears and the bone-weary exhaustion were just part of the game. And what hap­pened tomorrow, when the Undead and the Fore and Lopez knew what else all came boiling out of the sea and the forest to smash five Gamers, that would be the biggest, shiniest fantasy of all.

Acacia wiped her nose and regarded him. "All right, Alex or Gary or whatever you are. You and I know that what happened between us was a lie." She cut him off when he tried to speak, and maybe that was good. No telling what he would have said. "All right. You don't give a flying fart for any of us. That doesn't hurt me too bad, mister. But I want you to tell me that you don't care about what's happening here. That you haven't gone out of your mind with the rest of us weirdos. I saw you, Gary-Alex, oh, damn you, I saw what you were beginning to get out of this Game."

He heard the tremor in his voice. "What is it you think you saw?"

"You can't relax, Alex. You're in better shape than the rest of us, by a mile. Why are you as wiped out as we are? Why are you more torn up than Margie?" She leaned toward him, and flinched as one of the coals popped. "I'll tell you why. Because you work so damn hard at everything you do. Because you drive and drive and push until you're about to fall over. And if it's not hard enough, you'll make it tougher on yourself just for the sheer hell of a job well fought. Now you tell me, Alex. Damn you, you look me in the eye and tell me you don't want to stay in the Game just

twelve more hours, just long enough to help us beat the pants off Lopez. You tell me you don't care, tough man!"

He shrugged massive shoulders. "All right."

"All right? What's that?"

Even to himself, he sounded like a little boy trying to explain something he doesn't understand. "Sure I want to stay. But what I want doesn't matter. .

She stared at him. "My God, Alex... I thought I was hooked on fantasy. Just why-"

He snapped, "I'm not here to answer questions, Acacia. I'm not here to have ‘fun'. I'm here in the interests of Dream Park, and that's all there is to it."

His prisoner had set down his pack. Tony had long since made his own plea. He was just waiting.

But Chester said, "Griffin. It's in Dream Park's best interests that you stay in the Game." He had turned to face the fire. His voice was low, and very controlled, calculating.

"Don't try to hand me a line of bull-" But Alex knew that he had responded too quickly, too automatically, that he was almost afraid of being shown another way out.

"Tomorrow," Chester said, still facing away, "we are going to be slaughtered. The Game will be over, and will have to be con­sidered one of the greatest debacles in Gaming history. Certainly the greatest I have ever heard of."

"So I'm sorry about your reputation."

"So I'm sorry about Dream Park's investment."

That rang a bell. Hadn't Harmony said something-"Go on.',

"Don't you know that Dream Park recoups a huge chunk of their money through sales of tapes and books of an Adventure? Through luring people to run through an automated Game, once the bugs have been worked out? How many people are going to want a piece of this one? Cowles Industries will take a bath, Griffin." Now he turned, and met Griffin's eyes squarely. "We both know I have ulterior reasons for wanting both of you to stay in the Game. Fine. All I'm asking is for you to take everything into consideration. You know what it means to you, what it means to the Park. And if you give a damn, what it means to all of us."

Griffin scanned the faces. Eager, tired, waiting for a word from

him that would tear everything to hell and gone, or give them a fighting chance. Just twelve hours.

Christ! What would Harmony think?

Who cares? He's the loon who got me into this in the first place! Still, hadn't Harmony said-"I understand Dream Park's in­vestment is around a million and a half?"

"More, I'd think. Check with your boss. There are resources tied up, interest on loans, advertising agreements-"

"Never mind. Gather round, people. I may need you to talk for me. McWhirter, right next to me." Alex flipped his wallet open. "Get me Marty Bobbick."

Marty was on instantly. "Gruff! I was down to hoping you'd remembered to leave a dying message!"

"Marty, I have Tony McWhirter in custody on suspicion of burglary and murder."

"Okay. Good. Tell me where you are and I'll direct you to the nearest exit."

"Not so fast, Marty. See if you can get me Harmony, immedi­ately."

It wasn't immediate. The Garners sat around him, tense and si­lent, waiting. Kagoiano, mangled, with edges of bone showing through where the rockfall had smashed him on the third day, brought him a thick sandwich and stood passively until Griffin took it. Griffin forced himself to take a bite, then, suddenly starv­ing, wolfed it.

Ollie said, "Do you know about the Fat-Ripper Specials? They use the same Game, but they cut all the distances by half, and the food is high-protein stuff, and there are paid doctors in the party. Five days rips the fat right off you, and you hardly notice how hungry you are because you're too busy not getting killed. That's how Gwen got her start." He looked anxiously at Griffin, whose mouth was full. "The really good Games sell in places where you wouldn't think there were places. Dream Park stands to lose-"

The wallet spoke. "Griffin?"

"Harmony? Look, if you're asleep, get yourself awake. Pvc been handed a tricky decision, and I'm passing the buck."

"I wasn't asleep. What's the problem?"

"I've taken Tony McWhirter into custody. He admits to steal­ing the, ah, materials, but he denies killing Rice."

"Very good, Alex! We'll call Sacramento PD and hand them a nicely wrapped package. Do you have the stolen materials?"

"That's our problem, sir. McWhirter has made us an interesting offer. He'd like us both to stay in and finish the Game. It's only a matter of another twelve hours, and McWhirter will show us where he hid the, ah, materials."