In Death 30 - Fantasy in Death

passes, registration packs, and freebies—which included go-cups featuring characters from a new game, some free downloads, discount chits, and map discs.
    “This is the frost on the ice,” McNab decided as they moved into the first display area. “This is total. Did you see they have VR demos all day—and look, man, that’s the new 3-Z system. It’s got portable holo capabilities. Costs the earth and a couple satellites, and it’s first generation, but you can play holo without a full holo-room.”
    Peabody stopped long enough to watch the demo. “The characters look like ghosts. Flat, jittery ghosts.”
    “Yeah, well, it’s first generation. Give it a couple years. Tech rules, baby.”
    They wandered along with aliens and warriors, villains and heroes and geeks, while the air zipped and buzzed and crashed around them.
    Lines snaked for demos, for meetings with game to vid or vid to game characters. Screens exploded with battles, space wars, air-toground chases, and magic quests.
    “There’s the U-Play booth.” Peabody pointed. “We should go hang around there, get some dish.”
    “Yeah. Yeah.” McNab craned his head to watch the screen as she dragged him along. “I could beat that score. I have beat that score. I should sign up to play. It’s in character.”
    “Later. If Dallas tags me while you’re screwing around, it’ll be both our butts. We make contact, get the feel, get all juiced about weapons, see what we see. Then you can kick ass in Worm Hole.”
    “She-body.” He gave her a little one-arm cuddle. “You’re so efficient. They’ve got adults-only games one level down.”
    She slanted him a look under plum-tinted lashes. “Oh yeah?”
    “I checked the map.”
    “Well . . . It would be in character. It’s all for the cause.”
    “Abso. If we don’t play a few games while we’re here, somebody’ll get suspicious.”
    “We’ll work our way down.” She leaned over, nipped his multi-ringed ear. “Then I’ll take you down.”
    “Fighting words.” He gave her ass a nice squeeze.
    People crowded in and around the U-Play booth, a colorful throng against the streams of black crepe. A poster of Bart Minnock held center stage while on-screen he conducted a seminar on game play.
    Some of the attendees wept openly, while others purchased mementoes, systems, games, and action figures. All reduced ten percent, in memorial.
    They worked their way in, and Peabody widened her eyes at a woman manning a section of the booth. “Is he really dead? I heard it was just a publicity stunt to kick off a new game.”
    “He’s gone.” Her already red-rimmed eyes watered up. “We’re all just flattened.”
    “Did you know him?” McNab asked. “Like, personally?”
    “Not really. I work out of East Washington, mostly handle marketing for this region. I met him though. He was a great guy.”
    “But come on.” Peabody pushed a little. “What they’re saying can’t be true. Getting his head cut off, in a holo-room. It sounds like a game to me.”
    The woman’s teary eyes went cold. “He was murdered, and that’s not a game.”
    “Well, Jeez, sorry. It just doesn’t sound real. I mean, who’d do something like that?”
    “I hope they find out soon, and make him pay. Gaming’s lost a really bright light. And those of us with U-Play, well, we feel we lost the heart.”
    “It’s really sad,” Peabody said, and added a pat-pat on the woman’s arm. “My guy here’s the big fan. We hooked work and everything to come down because we heard about it.”
    “I told you it was real.” McNab tried for scolding and sorrowful at the same time. “I just want to say I really related to Bart. You know, he was the face of my generation of gamers. I bought U-Play’s first PS system, and I’ve never looked back. I got their PS-5, with the substation for Christmas last year. It really sings.”
    “We’re very proud of it. Have you demo’d Excursion?”
    “No, not yet.”
    “Let me give you a complimentary demo copy, in memory of Bart.”
    “Mag. I mean, thanks. I don’t mean—”
    “I got it.” She offered the disc. “This’ll give you ten plays before it wipes. I hope you enjoy it.”
    “No question. You know, some of my favorites?” McNab easily rattled off a list of games, heavy on war and weapons. “We have a Dead of Knight tournament every couple months at our place.”
    “He was actually going to e-mail U-Play and invite Bart,” Peabody added, inspired.
    “Oh, you