Текст книги "The Clan"

Автор книги: D. Rus

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Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 24 страниц)

Chapter Six

 

M emo:

 

Arizona 6, a classified virtual space and perma effect research facility.

Research staff: 1,446

Hired staff: 41,522

Security unit: 1,933

Laboratories: 76

Virtual capsules: 16,000

Annual budget: $2,600,000,000.00

 

The Tempus project progress report:

We have chosen AlterWorld as our default virtual world due to its officially largest digitized population as well as its fast-growing self-sufficiency and independence.

At our request, the AlterWorld corporation has developed a large body of unique spells and gear items. They have also provided us with an uncategorized Super Nova castle for all our internal Tempus Project needs and experiments.

Four months ago, eight thousand of our staff were subjected to medically induced full virtual immersion using premium class equipment. They were given a piece of gold as target and asked to begin casting a specially-created teleportation spell in order to teleport this object to a so-called Alpha Zone. In doing so, two important conditions were observed:

The casters didn't know that Alpha Zone was a real-life sterile installation within Lab 14.

They hadn't been informed of the spell's artificial nature, each of them believing it was a regular level 1 skill and that the purpose of their efforts was to level up their magic powers through repeated systematic training.

Three months and 5,184,103,322 spell activations later, our equipment detected a brief occurrence of the coin in Alpha Zone. The duration of the occurrence amounted to 0,09 sec. Unfortunately, the occurrence later proved to be a high performance illusion as other equipment had failed to register the presence of any material object. The first sighting was immediately followed by an avalanche of new illusions of teleported coins as the result of all other spell castings.

The duration of the illusion's occurrence in our world kept growing, reaching 51 sec as of today. Moreover, in the last 72 hours our spectrographs and mass detectors have been registering the growing presence of gold dust in the portal chamber.

Another interesting and equally important discovery has been the fact that the test subjects have managed to improve their casting skills. For instance, they now cast a teleport spell 0,12 sec faster than was standard. While both phenomena still demand some serious assessment, the fact remains that these two discoveries transcend the limits of the feasible, not only changing our entire world view, but also reviewing humanity's potential.

 

* * *

Still flabbergasted by the miracle that had just happened before us, we were sitting in the glade not far from mother and daughter who couldn't take their eyes off each other. Lena was telling her something, laughing and gesticulating, as her reunited mother listened to her with a happy smile on her lips. It couldn't have been easy for her to recognize her daughter in this Elven maiden even though the changes in her child's appearance weren't that spectacular: the girl had based it on her own picture. In any case, you can't cheat a mother's heart.

Herself, she looked like an alien body in the surrounding riot of color. As we'd frantically texted each other earlier, I'd recommended Tamara Mikhailovna to choose clothes her child could easily recognize. So now our fragile Elfa sat next to a still-pretty woman of about forty years of age wearing a rather short dressing gown and house slippers worn to a state of perfect orthopedic match with her feet.

A barely audible gong floated over the glade. Clouds of anthracite-colored diamonds swirled around Taali and Cryl, glittering in the sun like the lights of a thousand discos. Before I could raise my eyebrows in surprise, I was enveloped in a similar asteroid cloud of crazy diamonds. Yet another gong, and the gems descended into the grass, then disappeared without a trace.

Quest completion alert! You've completed a secret quest: A Friend in Need-2.

Donate the lion's share of your property to help those in trouble.

Reward: A Smile of Fortune-2. Luck will follow you around for one full week. It will increase your crit chances, send you rare loot and do various other things associated with good luck and Gods' assistance.

 

Congratulations! You've received Achievement: Soul Healer

Reward: +1000 to Fame

 

Congratulations! You have attracted God's attention and his hand has touched your shoulder.

Reward: unique skill The Help of the Fallen One.

Effect: once every 24 hrs., you can completely restore health of any creature i n AlterWorld with the exception of yourself.

 

My friends didn't say a word, dumbfounded. Their stares clouded as they read their own interface messages. Finally, I spoke,

"Everyone got the Help of the Fallen One?

Cryl nodded, closing the invisible windows. "Yeah. What's all this about? What's earned us the Dark One's attentions?"

Taali nodded absent-mindedly, still under the impression of all the rewards she'd been showered with.

I thought it was time for me to open up a bit. I had no reason not to trust Taali, and we had to let Cryl in on our secrets as he was one of us now. You couldn't possibly exist in this world without having someone to cover your back. Besides, I was used to having a rogue in the group especially because Bug—with whom I'd done the last twenty levels or so—was still a regular gamer and not a perma. You couldn't really count on him long term, especially confronted with a looming eternity. How long would he be in the game—a year, two? And then? There you were...

"He's not that Dark, really," I said. "By the way, it was him who helped me to escape from the Cats. The siege of the castle wouldn't have gone as smoothly without his intervention. He's neither good nor bad, he's in a league of his own. That's the way he wants to be, without all the clichés and name tags, you understand?"

Cryl looked up at me, surprised. "How do you know all this? You speak as if you met him personally."

I just shrugged, "Why wouldn't a young god want to meet his disciple?"

Deep inside I heard a familiar quiet laughter. The Fallen One? He was getting a bit too much. Raising my head to the sky for some reason, I shouted,

"Three-one-one, are you here? Can we see you?"

The laughter stopped. A barely visible mirror-like dome shrouded the glade, enveloping Lena and Tamara Mikhailovna who sat there oblivious to the world.

A figure entwined within the swirls of the darkness appeared a couple paces away from us, its cloak of night draped around its shoulders. The same humorous glint in his eyes, the same surge of power emanating from him, squeezing your chest like the cooldown from a High Spell.

Involuntarily, both Taali and Cryl jumped up and lowered their heads. I forced myself to remain seated trying to look disinterested and uninvolved. The Fallen One kept eyeing me ironically, building up the pressure, until I felt sweat trickle down my temple.

Finally, I gave up, "What now? Just don't try to tell me you're more interested in dumb worshipping that you are in our affairs."

The god threw his head back, laughing. The invisible pressure disappeared. I managed an inconspicuous breath of relief. Last time I'd felt something like this was in Turkey when I had my picture taken with a tiger. The beast had been apparently pumped up with tranquilizers, his neck chained tight to the concrete floor, but even in that state, his power and God-given fury had been palpable...

"Sit down," the Fallen One motioned us to resume our positions before sitting down first. He looked over us, making sure everybody was ready to pay attention to whatever he had to say.

"You've no idea, Max, how right you are," he went on. "By the very fact of your being my disciple, all of your actions, deeds and even words add to my karma. And the stronger the pressure produced by such events, thoughts, or emotional surges, the bigger the energy flow I receive. One could, of course, just donate some mana, loot or experience—all this will be available once the First Temple is restored. But few things can come anywhere near the kind of force this little girl has released into this world."

The rebellious AI nodded at Lena sitting quietly next to her mother who was plaiting her hair. "Her immersion is phenomenal. She has the potential to mold the fabric of the universe as if it were modeling clay. What a priestess she'd make! An inexhaustible source of power—neutral power, mind you, not a flood of black energy from some overzealous necromancer or a dark Drow rogue who gets his kicks from butchering young players in newb locations. But their power tastes vile and that's exactly what it does, creates the impression of me being a Dark god. Imagine, Max, if someone turned you into a true Death Knight, Morana's messenger, who leaves nothing but desolation and well-fed vultures in his wake? And you, Cryl—would you really prefer to become a thief and a hired killer? I wouldn't, either. Even though I too need power just like you do."

He turned back to me. "Oh, one other thing. I can't guarantee I can help you every time. For every such intervention I have to pay with my own power, whatever's left of it."

"Why did you waste it on this new skill, then?" I asked. "It wasn't crucial. You don't think you should have saved it for something truly important?"

The god smiled. "Not crucial, no, but the timing was perfect to hand out a few purpose-built freebies. Where do you think it would be the easiest to start a rockfall: in a desert or on a mountain slope where all you need to do is kick one piddly little pebble? The situation you've just created allows me to interfere without messing up the logic of the universe. Had I tried to issue each of you with the apocalypse button, then yes, I'd have overdone things. So once again: keep shaking the foundations and doing grand deeds. One day the reward will find its heroes."

"Yeah, right. So that their patron god could cash in his chips, too," I couldn't hold the sarcasm back. "Ditto for using the Help of the Fallen One on a dying player. One gram of gratitude a day multiplied by three multiplied by eternity. Not bad for a power investment, what d'you think?"

The Fallen One grinned and gave me a wink.

Cryl stepped forward and lowered his head. "O Fallen One, may I accept you as my god, too? None of the Light ones came to help me when I was dangling pinned to the ceiling in the Cats' cellar. No one showered me with their skills and attentions. But if I became one of the founders of a powerful movement, that could bring enough fame, fortune and wealth to last me two eternities, if necessary."

I stared at Cryl in surprise. The Fallen One gave him a look of approval, nodded and slapped Cryl's shoulder, accepting his request. With another gong, a new explosion of diamond dust erupted. The kid's eyes widened as he moved his lips, scanning the messages visible only to him. I'd love to know what the god had given him.

Unexpectedly to us, Taali stepped forward, too. "O Fallen One, is it true that dark priestesses have a number of, er, very special skills?" she blushed even though she'd managed to avoid putting her request bluntly.

The Fallen One grinned again. "It is, Paladin Maiden, it is true indeed."

Taali raised a proud head, "Accept my vows too, then!"

The god shook his head in surprise and glanced at me with what I thought was a hint of envy. "No vows needed. Your ambition is well enough. Accept my gift, then..."

The gong struck again. Taali's eyes started twitching, reading the lines of text in her interface—her nostrils flaring, a winning smile blossoming on her lips. Finally, she lowered her head in a bow. "Thank you..."

The tired god lowered his eyelids. "Time for me to go. I've done too much and revealed myself much more than I should have. Max? You've got to be on your way, remember?"

I nodded. "Sure. I need to kit myself out first and then I'll be off."

The Fallen One nodded and turned to go when his stare happened on Lena. The girl and her mother stood nearby, studying the god with interest, not daring to approach. The Fallen One lingered a few seconds; then, coming to a decision, he bit his lip and snapped his fingers. A plain gray bracelet appeared in his hand. I noticed him whisk away a crimson streak that ran from one end of his mouth to his chin. Oh. I just hoped our god wouldn't overexert himself handing out his gifts.

Curiosity forced me to select the bracelet as target and check out its stats.

Platinum Bracelet of the Dark Priestess. A Divine Artifact.

Item type: Independent, indestructible

Soul bound. Cannot be removed even after the player's death.

Item class: Unique

Permanent effect: The Mark of the Fallen One. Your relationship with all Dark races has changed to neutral.

Effect: Journey Home. Teleport to any Dark temple of your choice.

Cast time: 0

Mana: 0

Cooldown: 24 hrs.

 

My inner greedy pig shook, his eye twitching. How I understood him. This kind of thing could save your backside in dozens of situations. Not forgetting that all of the Fallen One's actions had at least one hidden agenda. By wearing the priestess' bracelet, the girl would get used to her new status. And by teleporting 'home' to a Dark temple after she'd extricated herself from various dangers, she will reinforce the association: I am the priestess, the temple is my home, my safety. This Fallen One was anything but simple.

He handed his gift to Lena. Having exchanged a few words with her mother, he tousled the girl's hair and waved his goodbye to us all. With a pop, the god disappeared, still enveloped by his dome. The summer forest sounds assaulted us with a renewed force, the sun growing hot and strong. Time to get back home and hide under our castle roof. A bite to eat wouldn't go amiss, either.

Tamara Mikhailovna and Lena walked over to us. The girl looked into my eyes, her stare attentive and vivid, very unlike I'd seen it before—bathed with joy, happiness and interest in everything around her.

"Max, thank you so much! Mom told me you helped them to find me. I don't know what would have happened to me without your help!"

My inner greedy pig purred, flattered by her praise. Still, I wasn't the only one deserving of it. "It's nothing, really. You need to thank Cryl over there. He stayed put feeding and guiding you. And Taali was upset about you more than any of us and helped us with everything she could..."

"Did she? I can't remember anything," the girl looked at my friends with gratitude. "Thank you too!"

We started along the trail that led to the castle. We could see the Vet's flag flying on the donjon spire. Tamara Mikhailovna had already changed into some period-appropriate fantasy clothes. Now she was doing all the talking, going unhurriedly into every detail. She had the rare gift of endearing herself with everyone from the first minutes of meeting them, just like a favorite auntie on a visit from out of town.

"I can't thank you enough, Max, both for myself and for our Dad. He'll come later on in the afternoon. No one gives time off to chief physicians. I'm not even talking about vacations..."

"It's nothing," I waved her gratitude away, embarrassed enough as I was. "What are you planning to do next?"

Tamara Mikhailovna stopped and looked back at the rather steep ascent we'd just climbed. "I'm not even out of breath," she shook her head. "What with my asthma and bad knees, I've been jumping around like a schoolgirl in May. And the air here reminds me of the seaside. St Petersburg is all covered in sleet, slush and those chemicals they use to melt the ice in the streets. Answering your question—yes, we want to go perma mode, both of us. When our Lena got trapped in the game, we started looking for her here. The police don't deal with missing children if they're lost to the virtual world. The AlterWorld's administration was playing for time, quoting their confidentiality clauses and demanding an official request for an international police search. In short, my husband and I decided to go digital and look for her ourselves. She's immortal now—sooner or later, we'd have found her ourselves. Instead, you found us... with this horrible story..." she wiped the corner of her eye making sure her child didn't see it. She didn't need to bother: open-mouthed, Lena was listening to the blushing Cryl feeding her his finest war stories.

I tried to distract the woman from her sad thoughts. "You'll have to join a clan. Preferably, one in the top 10. That'll give you some security. If you have enough money, it would be a good idea to buy a house within the city limits. You don't even need to go above level 10. Then again, Lena has already done that so you might need to catch up with her, too."

She nodded. "I think you might be right about joining a clan. And you, Max—are you with the Veterans?"

"Not really. I have a mini clan of my own. Just a pocket version, so to say. More of a family than anything else."

She stopped in her tracks, looking at me with interest. "Would it be possible for us to join it somehow? I assure you we're serious and hardworking people. We can be useful. And we aren't going to arrive empty-handed."

"You don't understand me," I shook my head. "Joining a clan isn't a formality. You will need it as protection, to help you and to speed you up. Besides, they're only two of us: Taali and myself."

A hand lay on my shoulder. "There're three of us."

I swung round, facing a serious Cryl. "There're three of us," he repeated. "I owe you. You're my only friend. Besides, I've already told the Fallen One I'd love to be present at the birth of a new era. I have no doubt whatsoever you'll make it big, man. You'll need a security force then, won't you? I'm not setting my sights on the post of its chief but I think I could make a decent operative."

"You see?" Tamara Mikhailovna smiled at me. "You're three already! With us, you'll be six. A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. In another hundred years we'll be laughing remembering this conversation!"

I looked at them all, willing myself to say no. The poet was right: we're responsible forever for what we have tamed. "Don't you understand? Running a clan is a pain I wouldn't wish on anyone, myself included!"

The woman's wise eyes smiled. "It's the retinue that makes the king... or the general. Once you pick the right people, your problems will be limited to setting objectives for them, then controlling the results."

"Send me an invitation," the rogue demanded.

I glanced at Taali. She winked at me and shrugged.

I raised my hand, motioning everyone to calm down. I had to do some quality thinking. Actually, it was probably for the better. My being part of the tobacco alliance tied me to my nanoclan for the next five years. At the same time, I realized full well that my clan had to be strong enough to guarantee both safety and lots of other things, as I had already said many times on different occasions. As always, if you wanted something done well, you had to do it yourself.

"Very well, then," I said. "It's not as if I'm dragging you in at gun point. You can always leave the clan, and not necessarily feet first. Here're your invites."

The next moment, my clan grew twice its original size. Tamara Mikhailovna declined my invitation.

"I'd like to change my avatar first," she said, answering my surprised stare. "I want to be a Higher Elf like my girl. Make a few alterations to my age and appearance... not much, just a little," she explained, embarrassed.

I nodded my understanding. Everybody wanted to be forever young and beautiful. She didn't need to explain it to me.

As we were walking through the castle, Dan collared us, wishing to report on Taali's situation. They had been busy collecting a wealth of information. A couple more weeks, and the lowlifes would be brought to justice. They already had the gun: a semi-automatic Tiger carbine with all options and high-end sights, virtually a clone of the good old Dragunov sniper rifle. Dan insisted Taali spent the next week at the shooting range and loosed off at least a couple hundred rounds to get used to it. So starting the next day, she was to go to some gun club not far from St Petersburg and remain AFK for a while.

Everyone got busy, leaving me alone to think about my own situation. My Mom, rather. Trevor's frantic threats had left me with a bad chill in my spine. I had to do something about them. Mom had better move somewhere else—ideally, to stay under surveillance for a while. I really didn't want to go cap in hand back to the Vets. Begging never pays; besides, I didn't want to supply them with all the trump cards they might need. A potential leak couldn't be disregarded, either.

Once upstairs in my room, I dragged the armchair to a narrow window with a forest view, made myself comfortable and opened the chat menu. The saved contact of the RealService representative glowed green, indicating his online status. The spirited exchange that followed secured me an excellent apartment in a secure gated community in the suburbs. That particular pleasure cost me three hundred bucks a week: pricey but bearable, considering the current state of my wallet. I also ordered their removal van for the next morning.

After a moment's hesitation, I decided to humor my paranoia and looked up several security agencies. On average, bodyguards cost from five to thirty bucks an hour. I chose something mid-range: a retrained ex special-ops officer with a gun license. I opted for automatic contract renewal and issued a daily standing order. Now all I had to do was break the news to Mom without triggering a heart attack.

It took me a while to type the message making sure it sounded positive and optimistic. I told her of my inventing a unique recipe bound to secure our financial future. I also told her about the new friends and powerful allies I'd made. Then I complained about 'some people' never happy with their share of the pie and let her know, point blank, about her temporary change of address in order to provide her with the safety and comfort levels befitting a new clan leader and virtual millionaire. My Mom wasn't stupid, of course. She was bound to read between the lines. But at least this way it would take her some time to figure something out—a big difference from the 'Mom, your life's in danger, you've got to lie low and keep a bazooka under your bed!' scenario.

I stretched and slumped back in the chair. I wouldn't call myself a money worshipper. Still, money did help solve many problems, making one's life more comfortable. Instead of silently suffering your noisy upstairs and downstairs neighbors, you could rent or buy a proper house with a bit of land. Instead of swallowing painkillers, you could visit a good doctor. Instead of being extorted by the traffic police, you could simply call your lawyer...

Now my current affairs seemed to be under control. The next thing to do would be to see if I could get access to the Vets' clan storeroom. Time for an upgrade. Failing that, I could always check the auctions. Then I had to spend a bit of time tying some loose ends before hitting the road again: the Dead Lands, the Temple and my little baby Dragons were awaiting!