In Death 30 - Fantasy in Death

gems, artifacts, whatever, depending on the level and the scene. But you screw up, you get tossed into another challenge, and lose points. Maybe you’re attacked by rival forces, or you fall and break your ankle, or lose your equipment in a raging river. Screw up enough, game over, and you need to start the level again.”
    “The program reads you ,” Benny went on. “Your pulse rate, your BP, your body temp. Just like a medi-unit. It tailors the challenges to your specific physicality. It combines the sensations of top-flight VR with the reality-based imagery of high-end holo. Fight the dragon to save the princess? You’ll feel the heat, the weight of the sword. Slay the dragon, and the princess is grateful. You’ll, ah, feel that, too. The full experience.”
    “If the dragon wins?”
    “You get a jolt. Nothing painful, just a buzz, and like Cill said, the game ends at that point. You can start it up again, from that point or back at the beginning, or change any factors. But the program will also change. It morphs and calculates,” he added, obviously warming to the topic. “The characters in each program are enhanced with the same AI technology used in droids. Friend or foe, they’re programmed to want to win as much as the player.”
    “It’s a leap,” Cill said. “A true leap in merged techs. We’re working out some kinks, and we’ve projected we can have it on the market in time for the holiday blast. When it hits, U-Play’s going to go through the roof. Bart wanted it more user-friendly, and to keep the price point down. So we’ve been working on home and arcade and . . . it’s complicated.”
    “We’ve got a lot invested, in the technology, the application, the programming, the simulations. If any of it leaks before we’re ready to launch . . .” Var’s mouth tightened.
    “It could take us under,” Cill finished. “It’s a make or break.”
    “In six months, a year, we’d be up there with SimUlate. We’d be global, and seriously ding in off-planet,” Benny told her. “Not just the up-and-comer, not just the wonder kids of gaming. We’d be gaming. But without Bart . . .”
    “I don’t know if we can do it. I don’t know how we can do it,” Cill said.
    “We have to.” Var took her hand. “We can’t lose this. Bart started it, and we have to finish it. You have to keep the game under wraps,” Var told Eve. “You have to. If anybody gets their hands on that development disc—”
    “It self-destructed when the e-team tried to remove it.”
    “Seriously?” Benny blinked. “Frosty. Sorry,” he said instantly. “Sorry. It’s just . . . Bart must have added the security. That’s why he’s Bart.”
    “How many copies are there?”
    “There were four. One for each of us to work with. It’s what I was working on last night,” Benny added. “I had it in sim, playing operator, and working with a droid. Mostly we work on it after the rest of the crew leaves.”
    “Only the four of you know about it?”
    “Not exactly. Everybody knows we’re working on something big. We’ve got a lot of good brains in here,” Cill commented. “We use them. But nobody knows exactly what we’ve got. Just pieces. And yeah, some of those brains are smart enough to put a lot of the pieces together. But we’ve been careful to keep it on the low. Leaks are death in gaming.”
    She seemed to realize what she’d said, and shivered. “Do you think somebody found out, and . . .”
    “It’s an angle. I’m going to need a copy of the game.”
    The three of them stared at her, miserably.
    “Look, if it’s what you say it is, and anything leaks on my end, you’re going to sue the department and possibly the city of New York for a big-ass bundle. If I’m culpable, you can probably sue me, too. I’ll lose my rep and very likely my badge—and those are every bit as important to me as the game is to you. My only interest in the game is how it pertains to Bart’s murder.”
    “She’s Roarke’s cop,” Cill said.
    “What? Shit.”
    Cill shoved around, burned Var with a look. “Roarke’s not going to steal from us. He wouldn’t rob Bart’s grave, goddamn it.” Tears flowed again. “He helped us get started. He liked Bart.”
    “Roarke knew Bart?” Eve asked, and tried not to let her stomach sink.
    “He wanted to recruit us.” Cill swiped at tears with the backs of her hands while her eyes shimmered in green pools. “All of us, but I think especially Bart. But we wanted