Death Dream (22 page)

"There's always people in them that I know," she told her mother. "You and Daddy and even Uncle Kyle sometimes."

The child seemed happy with the games, but Susan checked with Eleanor O'Connell and found that what Angela was reporting was not programmed into the games.

"How could they program each child's friends and relatives into each game?" O'Connell asked Susan. "That wouldn't make any sense, would it?"

Instead of being afraid of the games, Angie now looked forward to them so much that Susan was beginning to fear she might be getting addicted to them.

"It's as if the games are made specifically for her," Susan said into the phone. "The differences are small, but they're there. "

"That's just not possible," said Vickie.

"I've talked with Angie in some detail about it,, Susan explained. "What she's experiencing is different from the other kids."

The edge in Victoria's voice grew sharper. "That's exactly what I've been trying to get across to you, Susan dear. Her perceptions of the game are different. It's like two people looking at the same painting, they can see entirely different things."

"No," Susan insisted. "This is more than—"

"Didn't Dan go through that game she played? 'Neptune's Kingdom'? What did he experience?"

That brought Susan up short. Dan had told her next to nothing about his run through the game. Only that he didn't see anything harmful and couldn't understand what had bothered Angie so badly. In the two months since then Susan had mentioned her growing worries about Angie a couple of times, only to have her husband mutter that there was nothing wrong with the VR games.

"Dan saw the same game that I did," she replied.

Victoria sensed the slight sullenness in Susan's tone. She glanced sharply at the phone's little speaker grill, as if she could see Susan's face in it.

"There. You see? You and Dan went through the same game. Dozens of school children use the games every day without any problems at all. If your daughter is seeing things in those games that the other children don't see, the problem is with her, Sue. I know it's hard to face up to that fact, but we really don't keep separate disks on hand for individual students."

It was a lie and Victoria knew it. But it was one more hold she had acquired on Kyle Muncrief.

Susan hung up, still obviously unconvinced. Victoria sat tensely in her chair. She knew that she was going to have more trouble with Susan Santorini. Something would have to be done.

In the meantime, though, she had to follow up on Kyle's dealings with Washington. She got up from her chair, checked her hair and makeup in the Venetian mirror hanging on the opposite wall of her cozy office. She worked hard to keep looking good. Her silk blazer was a hot fuchsia color, set off with a heavy gold necklace and gold bangle bracelets and earrings. Just a hint of décolletage, enough to keep some of the younger guys interested. Satisfied with her appearance, she started down the corridor to Muncrief's office.

Thanks to modern electronics and Victoria's insistence, there were no secretaries at ParaReality. One young woman served the top six of the corporate executive group. Her title was Executive Assistant to the President.

All told, there were four other "executive assistants" in the company, two of them male Almost all the typing, filing, telephoning and other secretarial services were done by computerized machines. Even the coffeepots were automatic. Joe Rucker emptied and scrubbed them each night; he broke quite a few because he had only one hand to work with, but Jace Lowrey—of all people—insisted that Joe not be embarrassed by giving the chore to someone else. The executive assistants took turns filling them each morning.

So there was no secretary guarding Kyle Muncrief's privacy when Victoria opened his door and stepped into his office. Muncrief was on the phone with a man who was obviously Japanese. It was not Hideki Toshimura in the desktop phone screen, but one of his underlings. A bad sign, Victoria thought as she perched herself on the leather couch next to the door, out of range of the telephone's TV camera.

"Let me explain it one more time," Muncrief was saying, smiling his most cordial smile into the screen. "The programs that we develop and all the other technical data are the property of ParaReality Inc. The investors do not own that material."

The man's face seemed as immobile as stone. "It is highly unusual, is it not, for one to own shares in a company and yet not own a share of the company's assets."

"The investors own shares of Cyber World, not ParaReality. Cyber World Inc. provides the funding for ParaReality but does not own any of it. ParaReality is privately held. By me. That is the agreement that Mr. Toshimura signed," Muncrief said, with strained patience.

"That is not our understanding of the agreement."

"Very well then. Have your lawyers talk to my lawyers. There's no sense in our going around this again."

The Japanese flushed visibly, then dipped his chin slightly. "I am sorry to have taken up your very important time, Mr. Muncrief."

Muncrief smiled even more widely. "Think nothing of it. Tell Mr. Toshimura for me that I'm sorry this misunderstanding has come up. I'm sure our lawyers can iron it out."

"Thank you for your time, sir."

"Think nothing of it."

The image on Muncrief's desktop phone screen winked off. He glared across the room at Victoria. "Toshimura thinks he can steal everything we're developing here and set up his own version of Cyber World in Tokyo."

"That's what he's after?" Victoria asked as she walked across the deep russet carpeting and took one of the chairs in front of Muncrief's desk.

"What else?"

"But in our agreement it says we'll set up a Cyber World in Japan after the Orlando park is up and running."

"Sure. But if he can get his greedy little hands on our programs Toshimura can dump us and go off and do it himself. Or make a deal with Sony or MGM or one of the other biggies."

"What about Swenson?" Victoria asked. "Does he want to steal everything too and set himself up in Europe?"

Muncrief's whole body seemed to sag. "I hadn't even thought of that! Lord, these guys are supposed to be investors, not competitors."

"You're swimming with sharks, Kyle."

"Tell me about it."

"All the more reason to get some protection from Washington."

He glowered at her.

"How is the Washington deal going?" Victoria asked, crossing her legs primly. Her skirt was mid-thigh length, her patterned stockings a slightly deeper shade of purple than her suit.

Muncrief barely glanced at her legs. He huffed and ran a hand across his chin. "How's it going? Smith wants a particular program. Won't tell me what he wants it for, but he says it's got to be developed and delivered before February first."

"Why then?"

"Who knows?" With a shrug.

"Can we do it?"

"If we can get the blasted baseball game going we can do it. From what he's telling me, we'll get the basic visual and audio material from Smith himself. All we have to do is to program it into an interactive system."

"What kind of audiovisual material?"

Muncrief fluttered his beefy hands. "Sounds like news footage, mostly. Videotapes from CNN and other news services. Stuff like that."

"And what do they want to do with it?"

"Use it as the basis for interactive scenarios. You know, what'll happen in the Middle East if somebody knocks off the prime minister of Israel or there's another revolution in Iran—that sort of thing."

"Scenario building."

"Yeah. It'll need the best possible graphics program; and it's got to be interactive. When I told Smith about the conflict games we're developing his eyes lit up like a Christmas tree."

Victoria leaned back in her chair, fascinated. When Esther Cahan, an old friend from Victoria's college days, had first contacted her about this all she had said was that somebody in the government was interested in virtual reality. Slowly, over weeks that lengthened into months, he would phone Victoria and ask roundabout questions about what ParaReality was doing. Victoria was equally roundabout, fearing at first some subtle kind of government investigation might be underway.

Gradually the two former college friends began to trust one another. It turned out that Esther was working in the White House: Well, not actually
in
it but in the Executive Office Building next door that housed most of the White House's ever-growing staff. And someone who really did work in the White House itself was intrigued by certain possibilities of virtual reality.

As she watched Muncrief struggle to keep his investors happy while maintaining the ever-increasing flow of development money he needed, Victoria realized that a connection with the power—and funding—of the White House would not be a bad idea. It had taken much more work than she had expected to convince Muncrief of that. He was afraid that Washington might uncover his past. But at last her boss, in desperation, had bitten the apple.

It's my chance
, she thought.
My fallback position. Even if Kyle goes whacko and screws up the Cyber World deal, I can still take our expertise and make an exclusive deal with Washington. I won't need that slob Peterson and whoever he's working for. I can work for the White House instead.

"Can you deliver what they want on time," she asked Muncrief, "without jeopardizing the Cyber World work?"

"That's the big question, Vickie. I've got everybody working flat out to deliver the Cyber World games. How can we fit this blasted extra work in?"

"Jace Lowrey could do it, if it interested him enough."

"Oh no!" Muncrief snapped. "Not Jace. He'd drop the conflict game work he's supposed to be doing and play with this new program."

"But isn't this a conflict game, too?"

"Could be, maybe. Jace's done enough of the basic work. We don't need a genius for this. Especially not a crazy one like Jace."

Victoria smiled and nodded reluctant agreement.

"Besides, this project is supposed to be very hush-hush. Tell that to Jace and he'll be blabbing to the Washington Post before the sun goes down."

"Who, then?"

Muncrief shook his head.

"What about Dan?" Vickie suggested. "He's a solid citizen. Quiet and dependable."

"Dan," Muncrief muttered. "Can he do the work? Would it be too deep for him? He's really just a glorified technician, isn't he?"

"It shouldn't be that tough. Like I said, Jace's already done the hardest part. Yeah, I think maybe Dan could handle it."

"Then you'll pull him away from Jace?"

"No. no! I'll just get him to do this on overtime. Nights, weekends. He's a workaholic anyway."

Victoria thought that "workaholic" was not the most accurate description of Damon Santorini. Serious, yes. Very sensitive to his responsibilities. Very dedicated, with a strong sense of commitment.

"He has a family," Victoria murmured.

"I know that. I'll give him a nice fat incentive bonus for doing this extra work. Start a trust fund for his kids, college education. How's that?"

"It might work."

"He'll do it. He doesn't have the guts to say no to me."

"I wouldn't put it exactly that way," Victoria said. She hesitated long enough to draw in a breath, then asked, "What about his daughter?"

Muncrief looked startled. A silence stretched between them. Electrical, crackling.

"Well, what about his daughter?" he asked warily, his hands fluttering nervously across the desktop.

Victoria thought her own words out very carefully. "Kyle, you're tampering with the VR games at the school when she plays them."

He did not deny it. He just stared at her, eyes burning, face reddening.

"And Jace is helping you."

"The kid isn't being hurt," he mumbled.

"She fainted."

"That was two months ago! She loves the games now."

"And she likes you a lot, too, doesn't she? She even calls you Uncle Kyle."

"So what?" Truculently.

Victoria said, "Kyle, what you do in your private life doesn't concern me. But if Dan finds out about why you're interested in his daughter it could wreck this company."

"He won't find out."

"Dan would kill you, you know. He's the quiet, soft-spoken kind who goes berserk. He'd pick up that lamp and smash your skull in with it."

Muncrief inadvertently glanced at the heavy brass lamp on the corner of his desk.

"I'm not hurting his daughter," he muttered.

"That won't matter to him."

With an angry scowl, Muncrief said, "Well, he won't find out unless somebody tells him." And he pointed his finger like a pistol at Vickie's chest.

"I won't tell him, you know that. But if Jace knows about it, how long will it stay a secret?"

Mrs. O'Connell had almost stopped worrying about Angela.

Whatever had bothered the child two months ago in the VR booth seemed to have blown away. Angela loved the VR games now. She used the booths for her weekly reading skills demonstration, for her science lessons and her history lessons. And for games. Angela loved the games now.

Almost too much so
, the teacher thought.

The day's work had gone smoothly, so that by the final half-hour O'Connell allowed the children a free period of independent study.

"Can we use the booths for a music program?" asked Mary Mackie. O'Connell saw that she wanted to share the program with a girlfriend.

Three of the booths at the back of the classroom were unused at the moment.

"Angela," she called, "would you like to try the concert, too?"

Angela looked up from the computer screen she had been studying. The display screen showed a map of Florida.

"You do enjoy music, don't you, Angela?"

"I guess."

O'Connell directed Angela, Mary and another girl to the empty booths. While they were pulling on the data gloves and slipping the helmets over their heads, she went to her desk at the front of the classroom and tapped out the number of the program to be shown and the names of the children in each booth. The information went over fiber-optic lines, fast as light, to the mainframe computer at the ParaReality laboratory.