The California Voodoo Game

25

Power had always fascinated Dr. Norman Vail. It delighted him to see what power could accomplish in the right hands. His hands.

In less than twelve hours, the money and leverage of Cowles Industries had opened Sharon Crayne's life like a filing cabinet, inundating him with a mountain of information.

Vail had pored over it for three hours before Millicent, Harmony, and Tony McWhirter joined him.

All were exhausted but driven by an almost morbid curiosity. What might the psychologist have to say that was so damned important, this late at night?

Vail's skin had a translucent quality, as if fatigue and strain had aged him in a manner that mere time could not.

He waved them toward his desk. "Come in, please. Come in."

They seated themselves, dragging. Harmony looked askance at folders heaped on Vail's desk. Sharon Crayne had been a human being. How could anyone's life survive such scrutiny?

A citizen's only hope for privacy was the sheer volume of information. Gathering data was easy and cheap. Sorting and culling it was a multibillion-dollar industry, resulting in AI systems like ScanNet.

"There are patterns here," Vail said. "Lots of them. It would be difficult to explain the exact path of my reasoning, but I may have found some loose threads. With these in hand, we can begin the unraveling process.

"The question is: Was Sharon Crayne bent? The probable answer: Not in the sense of selling us out for money. She worked too hard, for too long, and her basic reward seemed to be the work itself. Her personal liaisons were usually brief, intense relationships connected with work, perhaps reinforcing her conception of Job as Family."

"What about her real family?" Millicent asked.

"This is where the pieces began to come together. But remember, please: this is a fabric of supposition."

"Understood," Harmony said. "Please proceed."

"All right. Sharon Crayne, twenty-six years old. Never married. Little contact with her family, especially her father. There is strong evidence of guilt or shame in connection with her relationship with her mother. Strained. Competitive 'outsider' would probably best describe her relationship with her two sisters and brother. Second of four children. Eldest daughter. Evidence that she assumed many maternal roles around the house when her mother, an architect, buried herself in her projects. During the latter years of her family's stable period, her father was unemployed."

Vail paused, focusing upon his guests as if just discovering their presence in the room. "Does any of this strike a pattern?"

An unpleasant notion surfaced in Millicent's mind and then submerged again, like some particularly large and ugly serpent.

"All right, then." Vail tapped a button on his desk, and a color image of Sharon Crayne's naked body appeared behind his back. Harmony was aghast. Vail barely seemed to notice that it was there. "Full autopsy of Sharon Crayne noted a fully healed, professionally rendered surgical scar, approximately ten centimeters long, in the abdominal cavity. The scar would have been made when Sharon was approximately fourteen years old. According to a medical interview at the time, she claimed it was an appendectomy scar."

"Ah… is that unreasonable?" Harmony choked.

"Dr. Eva Reeves, the pathologist, noted that the scar is atypical in size, shape, and location for appendectomy although the appendix went, too."

Tony McWhirter wrenched his gaze away from the levitated dead woman. He looked pale. "I don't get it."

"I believe I'm prepared to offer an opinion."

Harmony felt embarrassed and nauseated. Sharon's body rotated in front of them like a Thanksgiving turkey.

"Dr. Vail," Tony asked, voice strained. "Would you please provide some shielding for that hologram?"

Vail looked back over his shoulder. "Is there something-oh. I see." He tapped a few buttons, whispered a few words, and Sharon's body became an anatomy text, a technical drawing just as explicit, but quite impersonal.

And that might have been even worse.

"Now this was the clue. Dr. Reeves performed a standard tissue-typing for the transplant banks. Since Sharon had been dead for hours before discovery, it was unlikely that much could be recovered. The body changes rapidly at room temperature."

McWhirter looked a little green.

"But when Dr. Reeves typed the placenta, here-" The illustration expanded. "She found that Sharon's DNA fingerprints didn't match."

Harmony leaned forward, and Millicent shook herhead. "Oh, shit," she whispered.

McWhirter asked, "Mill? What?"

"Placental transplant?"

Vail looked at her the way a teacher might beam at a promising student. "And how far can you take that?"

She paused, thinking.

"Here's a hint: in her fourteenth year, her mother and father were separated."

"Fourteen. Twelve years since then." Millicent said, and her face went into her hands.

For almost a minute there was no sound in the room. Then Millicent looked up. "Ugly," she said.

"Yes?" Vail said encouragingly.

"Catholic family. Sharon adopting the maternal role. Her parents, Catholic parents, divorcing at the same time that Sharon got that scar. The placental transplant."

McWhirter was almost livid. "For God's sake, will you stop talking in code?"

"Fetal transplantation," Vail said, and for once his voice was gentle. "Very much an accepted alternative to abortion-an expensive one, though."

Harmony was fascinated but still confused. "How exactly did you come to this conclusion?"

"When Dr. Reeves got odd results for the DNA scan, she went looking for clues and found them. A surgical scar, on the uterus near the cervix. You see, abortion is easy; the techniques are thousands of years old. The process of reducing the risk for the mother was gradual but sure but the possibility of keeping the fetus itself alive existed by the end of the last century.

"One answer was to transplant the fetus's entire support mechanism, placenta and all. Rather than remove the baby from the uterus, the entire uterus is transplanted. An extracorporeal oxygenation device is needed, but that's just engineering. A new uterus is sewn in and attached to the fallopian tubes."

"Where was the operation performed?"

"Here's the clue: Nowhere."

"I don't understand."

"Sharon and her family lived in Utah. The operation was illegal there. Chances are that she went out of state and had it performed by the Embryadopt foundation. Sealed files."

Millicent seemed to have gotten herself together. "Another clue that Embryadopt was involved is the cost. Of removal, of the new uterus. They must have pre-sold the embryo. Healthy white fetuses are at a premium."

"Their security is complete," Vail said. "We can't get to their files, and no private agency can."

Harmony thought, Tony.

"No," Vail said, as if reading his mind. "McWhirter can't get at them. The files are physically isolated. No direct phone or computer lines into the banks."

Millicent began talking, almost to herself. "A Catholic family with a successful mother and an unemployed father."

"A father who probably stayed around the house a lot," Vail suggested.

"Sharon became pregnant, and gave her baby away. Something happened during the same period of time that was so traumatic that the

… mother?"

Vail nodded.

"— sued for divorce.''

"Sharon was raped by her father," Vail said quietly. "Probably repeatedly, over a period of years. When she became pregnant she gave the baby away."

Millicent continued in a pained voice. "So when Sharon Crayne was fourteen years old, she underwent a live fetal removal?"

"She fits many of the classic patterns. It would explain a lot. Her psychological tests from as far back as college imply a cyclical depression centering around March. Her parents were separated in April of '47. I'd bet that the surgical procedure was performed sometime in March of Sharon Crayne's fourteenth year. Her family was destroyed by the incident. Typical of incest victims, Sharon may well have blamed herself."

"And this might give a blackmailer material?" Harmony asked. "That she was an incest victim?"

For the first time Vail looked annoyed. "I would have thought bribery, not blackmail. If no legitimate private-party query can break through Embryadopt's legal shield, and even computer theft would fail, someone who could deliver such data would have an irresistible lure. Sharon lost a family over this trauma and has never been able to sustain another relationship. Every year, on the anniversary of the operation, she plunged into depression, regretting her past and yearning to see that child. Someone with the right connections, and no scruples at all, might just be able to find that child of incest and rage. And offer Sharon Crayne her salvation."

Dr. Vail studied his fingernails for a moment before continuing. "Sharon Crayne stole something from Dream Park's files? Something of great value?"

"Great, but limited," McWhirter said. "A partial map of MIMIC's defense system. It will be obsolete in a month."

"And this rapid obsolescence implies it was needed in connection with California Voodoo?"

Harmony was aghast. "Cold-blooded murder over a game!"

Vail smiled coldly. "How much money is at stake, Thaddeus?"

McWhirter said, "Six hundred thousand gets someone four million dollars."

"Which team?"

"Army."

"That makes sense… perhaps." Vail closed his eyes. "Let me think. Sharon was prepared to exchange her stolen data for… something. My first guess would be information that the child was all right. But that just isn't enough. She could probably have gotten that through Embryadopt."

"Millicent and I have looked at her finances," Harmony said cautiously. "Sharon Crayne owned a house in Salt Lake which she rented out most of the time. She had nearly half a million in equity in that house. Another eighty thousand in the bank, a hundred and fifty thousand in various investments. At first we just thought this interesting, and considered it more evidence of her invulnerability to bribery."

"You see something else?"

Millicent said, "She didn't use the house. She's got orate fur coat and a four-year-old Chrysler. She's got stocks, but she didn't play with them."

"She's not spending it," Vail said. "So let's stop looking at the house as a house, and look at it as a savings account. In that case she has a total of three-quarters of a million dollars in savings, and an emotional hunger to be reunited with the child she gave up. If money wouldn't get it for her directly, but she met someone who could give her information she needed, then that money could be used to, say, purchase a new life with her child."

"And a good life, too," Millicent mused. "But she would have to destroy the child's current family in order to do it."

Harmony seemed shocked. "Could she do something like that?"

"I have an idea," Millicent said quietly. "Instead of 'the child,' why don't we substitute 'the girl,' and see what happens."

McWhirter looked stricken. "Ah."

"Very good," Vail said. "A girl, who Sharon feared might be subjected to the same sexual degradation. Who is presently almost twelve years old. Perhaps the age the abuse began? Now then, I ask you: if three-quarters of a million dollars couldn't find the girl for Sharon, what might?"

"Nonmonetary pressure. Political favors maybe. Someone with military connections? Government connections…"

"Army. And who is the head of their team?" Vail pulled Clavell's file up and began to scan it with interest.

"You know," Tony said carefully. "One really strange thing has happened. Nigel Bishop placed himself in danger to prevent Clavell from being killed out."

"Nigel Bishop." Vail tapped out the name on his desktop console, and a slew of information began to rise. "Half the planet thinks he's unbeatable. Tony? Is he?"

"Bishop just lost his entire team."

Harmony looked shocked. "What? Wasn't Bishop supposed to have the biggest balls in Gaming?"

"Yes, but it was his second-in-command's fault. Disobeyed Bishop's direct orders. Bishop might have anticipated it would happen, but that's truly bizarre. But Bishop likes truly bizarre."

Vail said, "All right. We'll look at Army. We'll look at this Nigel Bishop. We'll find out whether Sharon could have met Nigel Bishop or some Army strategist, for that matter. Then we go the other way, try to find someone with a connection to Embryadopt. Anything else?"

Nothing.

Tony McWhirter walked Millicent and Harmony to the elevator. All three were tired, but Tony pulled Millicent aside for a moment. She came without question, saying good-night to Harmony.

"Yes, Tony?" She looked at him, feeling mixed emotions. Tony was a victim, too, in a very special way that even he didn't understand.

"It's not Army. I've got tape Clavell moaning when he first saw MIMIC. Christ, he didn't have any damned map."

"Could that have been for the cameras?"

"It's Bishop. I've got a bad feeling we'll never be able to prove a damned thing. He's got his tracks covered nine ways to hell, but I know. Trust me, I'm a Game Master." He stopped and frowned. "There's another problem-it's got to be Bishop, but I can't believe he placed that six-hundred-thousand-dollar bet."

"What do you mean?"

"You've got five teams in there. Bishop can't ride shotgun over Army the whole time, even if he wanted to. Be too suspicious, and besides, he's not even trying to control Army."

"Not trying?"

"He's nowhere near tracking the Army team. He's led two of the teams out of the Gaming area. Made us look like fools, of course. Also saved them a deal of trouble. You know, I can't even see his ego letting him throw a Game."

Millicent was leaning back against the wall, thoughtful. "Maybe he wouldn't be losing the Game. Maybe he'd be winning a bigger Game. It's all a matter of perspective."

"Yeah. I can see him thinking like that. Never let the enemy know what your true intentions are… But I can't see him believing he could pull it off."

Acacia, he thought suddenly. "He's got help. Acacia Garcia is in the Game with him. I mean, they're sleeping together, but Loremasters for opposing teams."

"So if she was in on it?"

Christ. There'd have to be a lot of money in it and there was, damn it. "They'd have to kill out the Troglodykes and Tex-Mits, throw the Game, and leave everything to Army. Any idea how delicate and dangerous a backstabbing like that would be? One misstep, and complete scandal. IFGS invalidates the Game, Vegas doesn't pay off. Civil suits. Bishop loses six hundred gees. Nobody ever plays with Acacia again. Millie, Gaming is her life!"

"Everybody grows up, Tony. People have bet a lot more for a lot less."

"Maybe. She likes danger. Excitement. Maybe. I don't believe Bishop could pull it off, but maybe he believes he can. He's egotistical enough. And I hate to say it, but he might have Acacia hypnotised enough to believe he can do it."

"You just don't buy it."

Tony rubbed his eyes. "Everything I know says he can't pull it off. I'll ask the Lopezes, too, but… he can't. Influence the odds, yes. He could have another player paid off. He might be in the computers. But Millie, the safer it is, the more complex it is. The more complex it is, the more dangerous it is." He rubbed his temples. "Ouch."

"I'm trying to think like Alex here," Millicent said slowly. "Couple of different choices, assuming you're right about his aims-that he's involved in the gambling, that he involved another Loremaster in his plans. One, he's better than you think he is, Tony. He can pull it off. Two, he's overrated himself, and he can't pull it off."

Tony rubbed his eye and yawned. "My brain feels like scrambled eggs. When I close my eyes I see sheep screaming and running in circles. Call me if you get anything, would you?"

"Sure." And then she thought to herself, You're jealous of Bishop, Tony. He's sleeping with the woman you loved. You'd hate Griffin for having done the same thing, but you owe him too much. Transference.

But does that make Bishop more or less of a suspect? Was Tony trying to frame him, or to convince them that Bishop wasn't clever enough to be guilty, or what?

At that instant, she knew that despite massive medical evidence to the contrary, headaches were communicable.

Get some sleep.