“if you’re quite through?” Vail said politely. “I have business to attend to.”
Alex’s temper flared, and his voice thundered in the room. “The truth, dammit!”
But Vail was already at the door. Alex wanted to pick him up and hurl him back; his body was ready, poised… but Vail had paused in the doorway. “We all do what we can, Alex,” he said. At that moment, he looked every one of his sixty-four years. “You said it yourself. Where else? Where else but Dream Park?”
Then he was gone.
Griffin watched Vail leave, mind racing. There was silence in the room for a long, long thirty seconds, silence that Griffin finally broke.
“Shit,” he said in a soft, wondering voice. He turned to face them. “All right. Business.” Welles was still watching the doorway. “Dwight, I need you.” With seeming reluctance, Welles eased out of his reverie. “All right. Something is happening, and it’s happening soon. We don’t know where, but it’s probably Gaming A. We don’t know what.” He thought a moment longer, then added, “We don’t know when. Lovely. Business as usual.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Gwen heard Johnny Welsh’s voice above the din, strident and tired, but happy. “Hey, Robin! You’re looking pretty good, for a dead guy!”
Bowles acknowledged the backhanded compliment with a suitably regal nod. Gwen had to admit, he did look good. Bowles had probably gotten twenty hours sleep since the game ended. He had assumed his former throne in the Phantom Feast, and was surrounded by lovely young things who were watching highlights from the Fimbulwinter Game on a bank of overhead monitors.
“What do you think?” Gwen asked Dr. Vail. She tightened her arm around Ollie’s waist. Damn, it was good to be back in civvies again. No more Gaming for six weeks!
Four at least.
Vail smiled thinly. He seemed preoccupied, and even-a little worried. “Of Robin Bowles? All indications are that he will do well. But I’d value your opinions regarding the others.”
He took her arm. Gwen stood; Ollie stood too. They strolled among the Gamers, their guests, and other visitors culled from the Barsoom Project families. Vail seemed content to be relatively unknown. Gwen wondered how the roomful of guinea pigs would react if she revealed that the tall, well-kept older man so quietly gliding among them was one of Dream Park’s maddest scientists.
“On the other hand…” Vail said somewhat regretfully.
Here he veered over to the far side of the room, losing Ollie at the bar. Johnny Welsh was holding court, an adoring Trianna on his arm. “And well, hey,” Johnny said expansively. “When I saw that the monsters were getting ready to eat me whole I said, ‘Hey-” and here his voice changed as he prepared to deliver his infamous tag line: “I’ve had dates like you!”
On cue, his audience roared.
Vail grunted. “He’s the tough nut.”
Ollie was back, with three squeezebags of flavored club soda in his big hands. He said, “Johnny? What makes you think Mr. Mirth might be beyond the reach of your insidious mind-bending skills?”
“His defenses are too strong,” Vail said reasonably. “He can laugh damn near anything off. With more time… or if we’d been able to push him without concern for holding up the others, then maybe.”
Trianna kissed Johnny on the cheek and crossed the room to join them. She hugged Gwen and Ollie. “I love you both,” she said, little tears glistening in her eyes. “I don’t know how, but I feel… different somehow.”
“It’s magic,” Ollie said solemnly.
Trianna noticed Vail. “I don’t think I’ve met you.”
“Norman Vail,” the doctor said, shaking her hand. “I’m with medical services. I’m glad you had a good time.” He paused. “You did, I hope?”
“The very best. Even more than that…” She took Gwen’s arm. “Do you fellas mind if I borrow the lady for a minute? Girl talk.”
“By all means.”
Trianna took Gwen over to the side of the room, and held both of her wrists. “I just wanted you to know that last night was the first time I haven’t had a nightmare for almost a year.”
“Terrific.”
“And… I wanted to say that I know that you were watching over us, every step of the way. I know I act kind of dippy, but you never let it weird you out.”
“Darling…” Gwen said, laughing. “In comparison to the bunch that I usually work with, you guys have been downright normal and sane.”
Trianna laughed until she was crying. Gwen’s lips curled in a grudging smile. “Well, you had Hebert and Kevin and Johnny all doing a dance around you, even with the extra weight. I think you better think about getting rid of that armor-it ain’t working.”
“I guess not, huh?”
“And forgive yourself for that abortion, darling. Don’t look so shocked. You dropped enough clues. So you were drop-dead gorgeous, and you got a lot of attention from guys who never saw you, only the face and body.”
Trianna’s mouth was hanging open. “How did you know?”
“Oh, hush. And one time you got pregnant, and you weren’t ready for that?”
Trianna blushed. “Worse. The whole relationship went nasty. And I got rid of the baby to spite him.” Her beautiful face reddened with the effort to hold the tears back. “I paid for that,” she said in a hushed voice. “Something went wrong, and now I can’t have babies at all.”
Gwen hugged her, held her. “The hardest thing is forgiving yourself. If you want to thank me, will you do that?”
“I’ll try.” Trianna snuffled and brushed a long strand of blond hair out of her face. “Anyway, Charlene invited Johnny and me up to Falling Angel, and we accepted.”
“We?”
‘‘We.”
Trianna looked back over at Welsh. His audience, red-faced, was bouncing on the couches and doubled up painfully, holding their sides and begging for mercy. Suddenly it was difficult for Gwen to remember him in the Game, spear in hand, slaying the dreaded Amartoqs. Unlike Trianna, Johnny still needed his shield.
“Good luck to both of you,” Gwen said.
Ollie’s warm hand found hers, and they joined Vail. He sat at the rim of a holo stage with Eviane/Michelle, and Max, and Max’s brother Orson.
Charlene was there, next to Yarnall, who wore a silly self-righteous smile.
Gwen tweaked him. “What are you so happy about?”
“Welles, that glorious bastard. He liked the Game I played so much that he kept that double bonus going both days. Told me I could play one of his scenarios, anytime.”
Onstage was the Island sequence, with various Gamers stalking and skulking about in the shadows.
“Rl’yeh,” Orson said. “It’s Lovecraft’s ‘At the Mountains of Madness’ combined with his frigging floating island. I never tumbled till I saw it up there on the screen!”
Max snorted. “So wonder boy blew it once. At least you got out alive.”
Vail leaned into the conversation. “You know,” he offered, “I saw you both play, and I would bet that both of you would play better if you were going for real points. In a Fat Ripper siblings can reinforce each other’s habitual roles.”
“I think I saw that,” Max confessed. “Our act is: he’s brains, I’m muscle.” Max punched his brother’s shoulder. “You know, you did some powerful adventurin’ there.”
They slapped hands. “Yeah…” Orson said contentedly. “It ain’t that I don’t love you-although I don’t-but next time, I’m winging it.”
Gwen chuckled, then stopped as she watched Michelle. Vail sat on the couch behind her, too casually. Her face was intense with interest on the holo stage.
“So,” Vail said, once again with extreme casualness. “How are you, Michelle?”
“Fine.” She looked up at Vail with a face devoid of guile or guilt or trauma. “You don’t have to worry about me, Dr. Vail. That nice Alex Griffin already talked to me about staying around for another week. Everybody’s worried about me. Everybody can stop worrying. I know the therapy I need, and I’ve got him.”
Max grinned hugely. “Taa-dah!”