The Great Game: Mariska Gabor

By John Sheffield

Word arrives at the Darien-4 space station that the Siguldians have invaded Darien. The Siguldian forces under the Dracon, Mehrak Dracu, consist of Moroi warriors and dragons, supported by a larger number of Yerboli serfs. The peaceful Darien's need help. Gareth Owen and Mariska Gabor are sent to the planet Darien in the Orion Nebula to mount a

• Language: English
• Publisher: John Sheffield
• Release date: Jul 15, 2022
• ISBN: 9781087972916

John Sheffield

John Sheffield PhD is known worldwide because of his involvement in numerous multi-national fusion energy projects for the U.S. and Europe. In the 1970s, he was on the design team for the 16-nation, Joint European Torus project at Culham in England; in the 1990s, he served as a U.S. representative on committees that defined and then gave technical advice to the International Thermonuclear Experimental Reactor (ITER)-China, Europe, India, Japan, Korea, Russia, and the United States. He served on the US-DOE’s Fusion Energy Sciences Advisory Committee for over a decade, chairing it from 1996 to 2000. From 1988 to 1994, he was director of Fusion Energy at the Oak Ridge National Laboratory. From 1995 to 2003, he was director for Energy Technology Programs at ORNL, and from 1997 also director of the Joint Institute for Energy and Environment at the University of Tennessee. There he remains as a Senior Fellow in what is now called the Institute for a Secure and Sustainable Environment.

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44,900 words

The Great Game: Mariska Gabor

    John Sheffield

I am deeply indebted to the people who read and gave me sound advice on improving this book. Vicki Kestranek and Carolyn Robbins, the literary critique group led by Buzz Bernard, Lynn Wesch’s, Jeremy Logan’s and Michelle Tompkins’ literary critique groups, and my late wife, Dace. I have benefited enormously from what I have learned as a member of the Atlanta Writers Club.

Freeing Sambhar

Sub-Continent of Sambhar

Diagram Description automatically generated

November 14, 2012.

Mariska watched the hog-like creatures that were rooting around at the edge of a nearby copse of fern-trees. As the sun set, she’d worked out that the other two people playing in the Great Game were hidden in another group of trees a couple of hundred yards away. The herd headed in that direction. She slid in behind them and followed, assuming that her dog-like appearance would look similar in the dim light from the twin moons. The creature at the back was engrossed in feeding and ignored the intrusion of a being from another planet. When the herd snuffled around the trees, she crawled under a bush. Silence. She closed her eyes and dozed.

Sunlight filtering through the leaves and a noise from deeper into the copse woke her. She crawled cautiously through the bushes and saplings. A were-cat stood between huge roots at the base of a tree. The cat, who had to be Imelda, was sniffing. Mariska wondered if Gareth Owen, the third player, was hiding in the branches.

Mariska considered her options: Wait until Gareth showed himself or attack now while she had the advantage that Imelda might be distracted by Gareth’s scent? In the latter case, it was a fifty-fifty proposition that Gareth might support her. That suggested that odds were better than fifty percent if she went for it now. She edged forward until she was behind the cat and pounced on its back.

The were-cat screeched and spun around with Mariska clinging on. Mariska snarled and went for its neck. Her teeth clamped onto a heavy leather collar. Off balance, the cat tripped on a root and they fell to the ground. Using superior size and strength the cat succeeded in getting free of Mariska’s grip, and lay on top of her, face-to-face. Mariska watched in horror as its jaws opened and came at her throat.

A strange figure dropped out of the tree and landed on top of them. She felt sharp teeth on her skin and pain as the were-cat’s fangs penetrated. I cede, she transmitted telepathically. The teeth dug deeper. Mariska saw a leather cord swing around the cat’s neck

  "You’ve won, Imelda," the third player said, urgency in his voice. The cord pulled tight. You’ve won. Let go, now.

Mariska saw that the cord wasn’t working against the collar. The pain was getting more acute. For the first time Mariska panicked. She’d be killed, just like Eugene from Denver in a previous Game.

The cord fell away and was rapidly replaced by a dagger with its point under the collar. Accept, or you’ll go, too. He sounded angry.

A rumbling laugh. I accept. Game’s over.

After a long period of darkness, at the end of the virtual reality Great Game, Mariska found herself back at the Game table. Imelda, with an irritated expression, sat to her right. Gareth, dark haired and smiling, was on her left.

Imelda glared at Gareth. I knew you were there, but I couldn’t see you. Where were you?

High up in the tree.

I looked for you, she said. Good disguise. What were you, then?

"Strigoi." Gareth replied with a smile.

A Romanian vampire? Imelda said. You’re kidding?

Special kind . . . blends in with the background, nearly invisible, supernormal strength, and no blood lust.

Imelda had appeared ready to comment when the door opened and Sammy Jenks, the game’s coordinator, came in. I see you all survived. No severe injuries. Good. He turned to Mariska. I’m sorry but it’s time for you to leave. Please stop by my office before you go. There’s someone who would like a word with you. You can wait in the office.

He turned to the other two players. Imelda, Gareth, congratulations. Be back here tomorrow at nine. Sammy walked out.

Imelda followed him. "Hasta la vista, Gareth."

Mariska’s neck was sore. She rubbed it gingerly and glanced at her hand, seeing faint streaks of blood. Gareth, that’s twice now you’ve made me the loser, she said, and then grinned. But I am grateful despite that.

You did much better than last time, but Imelda had you beat, he replied. My only word of advice is patience. Find both of your opponents before you attack.

He was right. She’d been too impatient, again. Like you do? she asked.

Yes.

An interesting guy, better than some of the men she had dated recently. Good luck tomorrow, she said. Give me a call when it’s over. Sammy has my number. Now, I’d better find out what he wants. Take care.

I will. You’re so sure I’ll win?

I hope you’ll win. Mariska tilted her head. Give me a call. What was I thinking? I’m sure he’s still recovering from the strange disappearance of his girlfriend, Jenny. She smiled. I don’t want to have been defeated by a loser. She blushed, wishing she hadn’t said it. Maybe one day I’ll save you.

He raised an eyebrow and shrugged.

Mariska left him and walked down the corridor to Sammy’s office. The door was open, and she went in. No one was there. She made a beeline to where a coffee pot and cookies rested on a sideboard and poured a cup, then paced, thinking about the Great Games she’d been involved in. This was her second series and she’d only won in one out of three attempts—losing a total of thirty thousand dollars in entry fees. Good thing she could afford it. She hoped she wouldn’t be eliminated next time she played.

Her Hungarian parents had told her about the games, which required a shape-shifting ability passed on by certain women. While her mother had been in favor of her playing, her father had been opposed. She smiled wryly remembering vehement arguments between the two of them.

A couple of years after she’d left home and headed out on her own, her friend, Zsa Zsa Cohen, had persuaded Mariska to give the games a try and trained her. It was a nuisance having to travel from the San Francisco area to the farmhouse site of the Great Game on the edge of the Chattahoochee National Forest, some sixty miles north of Atlanta, Georgia. But the adrenaline rush made it worthwhile, and she was hooked on competing.

The start of the Great Game was simple: first, three dice were thrown to determine the venue—in the recent Game it had been the countryside of a planet in another solar system, sometime in the future. An incantation had taken her and the other two players to the venue and placed them out of sight of each other around the combat arena. There, each player would decide which of their shapes to adopt. When the Games were created, only hand combat weapons existed, and that was still a restriction.

The players were seeded in categories determined by their experience and success rate. She was a beginner, aspiring to reach intermediate status. Imelda and Gareth were masters.

Generally, there would be an obvious loser, and the two commanding players in each round would decide if the unfortunate player would be allowed to live. It was convention, though not obligatory, to spare beginners and intermediate players. The two survivors would move on to the next round. Sammy had made it clear that if Mariska felt inadequate in a particular venue she could withdraw and forfeit the entry fee. No way, she’d told herself.

As to why the Great Games existed, she wasn’t quite sure. Her mother had indicated they were to train her ancestors to protect themselves against some terrible creatures. She’d mentioned dragons and vampires. Mariska’s engineering background made her skeptical of that explanation. However, she had to concede that her abilities were not normal, and the venues—likely virtual reality—were an incredible achievement. Whoever had created them had mastered technologies beyond those she’d encountered.

At that moment, a woman with curly black hair came in with Sammy. At a guess, she looked to be in her mid-thirties.

Mariska, I’d like you to meet Maria Horvath, Sammy said. I think you’ve met her mother-in-law, Teodora. Maria has a suggestion for you to consider. I’ll leave you alone to discuss it.

Maria came over and indicated two chairs. Please sit down. She took a neighboring chair. Teodora has a high opinion of you, and we feel there may be an opportunity you might be interested in.

Mariska studied the smiling face of the woman facing her. What kind of opportunity do you have in mind? Mariska raised her eyebrows. You must know that I have a number of jobs already.

Yes. Nevertheless, you’re always up for a Game series, which suggested to us that you might be looking for more adventure in your life.

More adventure. Mariska felt a tingling sensation. It was true. At twenty-nine, she looked forward to the Great Games, even though she had rarely been successful. Her contract work in electrical engineering, while interesting, usually involved short-term jobs. She had no firm commitments now that her involvement in a laser weapons project was finished. Her modeling jobs, mainly lingerie, were fun but primarily to raise the funds to play.

Okay, I’m listening, she said.

First, I need some information. Maria’s black eyes showed interest. Your mother was a player. How much did she tell you about our history?

She told me I’m descended from people who left Asia thousands of years ago. For some reason, our female ancestors had shape-shifting in their genetic make-up. Mariska played with her blonde curls. It’s always felt natural, and I believe that someone gave us this capability for a reason. My mother implied that the reason had gone away, but we needed to be vigilant. So, we continue to play the Game.

You’ve been on Darien-4. Have you wondered who might have built the space station?

Mariska thought about the strange outpost, she’d entered from a portal, which was housed in a quirky museum in Roswell. I’ve asked around, but no one would or could tell me. I concluded it must have been built by some alien civilization. The engineering is beyond what we could do. She paused. I guess I’d decided that those same aliens must have given us our abilities.

Correct. The Dariens developed the Great Game to train your ancestors to fight the alien Siguldians, who sought to enslave Earth. Are you interested in finding out more?

Of course. Mariska leaned forward gazing at Maria expectantly.

Maria looked relieved. We’d like you to stay for another week or so. Could you?

Mariska considered her opportunities: some contract work the following week could be put off; and a photo shoot was two weeks away. She could easily opt out. I think so.

Great. You can stay with me. Maria stood. No time like the present. Let’s go to the bank on Darien-4.

2.

Maria parked above Vickery Creek in Roswell. She and Mariska walked to the museum, which was a part of a row of shops above the creek. The gatekeeper, David Taragos, waved them through to the basement. There, his wife ushered them into the portal, which was one of a few across the world that gave select groups on Earth access to the Darien-4 space station. About ten minutes later they emerged in the guard post. A short walk took them to the bank; a metal structure that soared into a misty blue sky. A few of the people they encountered on the way tried to stop and talk. Maria smiled politely and indicated they were in a hurry.

Peter, Mariska is here to visit the library, Maria said to her husband, who met them in the lobby.

Welcome, Peter Horvath said as he led Maria and Mariska to an escalator.

When they entered his office, high up in the bank, Mariska stopped in awe and gazed out the window. She took in the magnificent sight of the asteroids sunlit against the darkness of space. Jupiter stood out in yellow on the righthand side of the window. So that’s where the station was situated. Er, sorry, it’s spectacular. Nice to meet you, Peter. They shook hands.

Might as well get straight to it. Peter turned and walked to a door. He punched a code into a lighted panel on the wall, and the door to the library opened. Mr. Phelps, the cyborg librarian, ushered Mariska to a high-backed chair that faced the far wall, before retiring to his desk by the door.

The walls in front of and to the side of her flickered. A figure, human in build, appeared in the distance on the right and walked toward her. The being was slim and wore a belted, shimmering blue tunic and trousers; a color that matched his eyes. His feet were shod in plastic, backless slippers He had a cat-like face with a faint covering of white and gray fur, reminding Mariska of a