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the Heir Apparent program."
    I was stuck here?
    "The only route," Mr. Rasmussem said, "is to successfully complete the game. Unsuccessful solutions will loop you back to the start of the program."
    I can do that,
I thought. What he was telling me was that I was getting free extra tries. I began to breathe normally again.
    "Unfortunately," Mr. Rasmussem said, and my breath caught again, "this is the last time we will be able to communicate with you. And, unfortunately, I cannot tell you the solution to the game since there is no one, single, right path. There are an infinite number of permutations, depending on which characters you take into your confidence, how you react to the problems with which you will be presented, and what policies you set for your government."
    Mr. Rasmussem might have been counting on this going over my head, but I could figure it out: If there were an infinite number of possible right ways that could get me out of here, there had to be an infinite number of wrong ways that would set me back on that hill in St. Jehan.
    "Don't panic," Mr. Rasmussem said again. Their readouts on my heart rate and blood pressure must have been going wild. "All you have to do is play the game as well as you can as quickly as you can."
    And while that was still sinking in, while I was mentally repeating
quickly?
Mr. Rasmussem said, "Wait!"
    Wait?
That seemed all I could do. But he wasn't talking to me.
    He was beginning to float upward again. The heavenly choir started humming. The clouds took on a pink hue. Mr. Rasmussem was again talking to someone else, arguing. "No, this is foolish. She needs to know the urgency." He turned back to me, speaking in a rush now, so that I suddenly suspected his earlier comments had been scripted. "What I said before isn't entirely accurate. I don't want to frighten you—you should be fine. But there is no time to waste. The prolonged direct stimulation to your brain is dangerous. The longest game we have is supposed to be over in an hour, and our equipment would normally be safe for up to five times that exposure. But with the damage these people have inflicted, your safety zone is much, much less. We don't know how long you have, but the longer you're in the game, the more you risk fatal overload."
    Overload?
What was he saying? And
fatal overload?
    Now it was my turn to cry, "Wait!" to him. But even if he could have heard me, it was obvious that there was nothing he could do about remaining.
    "Advice," Mr. Rasmussem called down at me as the clouds foamed about him. "Kenric and Sister Mary Ursula don't work well together."
    Who in the world was Sister Mary Ursula?
    Mr. Rasmussem's voice was fading despite the fact that he was obviously shouting. "And next time, don't forget the ring."
    "What ring?" I shouted back up to him. All I could see, far above, were the bottoms of his sneakers.
    "And whatever you do, don't..."
    But, naturally, I couldn't make that out.
SUBJ: URGENT—Emergency Situation
DATE: 5/25 03:37:02 P.M. US eastern daylight time
FROM: Nigel Rasmussem

TO: dept. heads distribution list
BACKGROUND: The Rochester, New York, facility has been compromised by unauthorized persons who have forced entry and damaged equipment *while it was in use*.
See attached file for damage assessment and equipment specifics.
The intruders have been removed and arrested by local authorities. Security believes them to be politically motivated local individuals working spontaneously in an isolated incident rather than organized terrorists, BUT TIGHTEN SECURITY IN ALL GAMING CENTERS NONETHELESS.
See attached file for background on CPOC political lobby group.
At the time of the raid on the facility, 2 gamers were in the VR arcade and were not harmed, one group of 4 TI gamers had just gone under and were successfully retrieved by the premises technologist, but a lone player was already fully in total immersion and the technologist believes serious bodily harm would result