Текст книги "AlterWorld"

Автор книги: Dmitri Rus

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Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 22 страниц)

Chapter Fifteen

The next morning was hectic. Guards, investigators and officers of all ranks ran up and down the corridors questioning everyone. I just kept shrugging, showing them my empty hands and pointing at the collar around my neck. In any case, didn't they see the hound was all of 120 levels out of my league? The interrogators scratched their heads and moved on.

The hound's corpse and blood had disappeared a few minutes after it had died. I had swung the chain as far along the corridor as I could. The two smaller Soul Stones lay abandoned on the floor for another hour. No one but me could pick them up, apart from an NPC like the hound herself. But in her absence, all dropped items had a limited life. Game developers didn't want their world to be cluttered with trash. Besides, you never knew whose hands the item may end up in.

So technically, the guards had nothing to confront me with, apart from the fact that my level had soared overnight. But I was prepared to feed them a story about some particularly complex meditational quest. They were welcome to prove it wrong if they thought they could.

All night I had been fighting off a desire to use the teleporter and leg it. Then reason took over. If I jumped the jail, I had to leave town, and it was something I wasn't prepared to do. I had only just made myself a few friends and began learning the lay of the land. I'd been lucky enough to come by a few quests and a place to stay. I really didn't feel like giving it all up in order to run to either the neutral lands or the Drow's' territories. So I'd made a conscious decision to do my term and go out with a clean reputation. I had used the master key to lock my collar and crashed out. In the morning, all hell broke loose.

They delivered my prepaid breakfast only in the evening, apologetic about the unprecedented concentration of top brass per square foot. By then, the place was back to its normal quiet, disturbed only by the shuffling of a guard who'd replaced the runaway bitch. The Hell Hound. Another headache, as if I didn't have them enough already. On one hand, the raised pup could be my free ticket to level 50 and beyond, regardless of the summon limits. On the other, I had a quest, an unknown reward and my own word. Which word? Who had I given it to—a binary combination? To AI? Or ultimately, had I given it to myself? Nothing but questions.

Days dragged by. I loafed around. The guards only showed up during the daytime and slept it off in the guardroom at night. That gave me a bit of time to play around with the settings. I removed the Negator, summoned a low-level pet and fitted it with all the buffs I could think of. This was an entertaining but rather unproductive way of reminding myself I was still a Necro. At least I got rid of a few rats scurrying about.

In the evening of day five I was scrolling through the Wiki, bored and listless, when an admin message popped up.

You've received a personal money transfer: 3000 gold.

A note has been added:

Hi, son, how are you? Love, Mom.

Oh. I sat up in bed. The quick note felt like the first letter from home for a rookie. From home… from my mom. For a brief second, I couldn't fight the desire to go back. My eyes searched for the log out button. Stop now. Get a grip.

I checked my available funds. 3002 gold, 4 silver and 31 copper. Well done, mom. I had indeed asked her to send me a hundred bucks, and do it on the tenth day of full immersion. She'd done it on the seventh. Couldn't wait. Mothers! Now we were rocking.

I stood up, walked to the bars and called out to the bored guard.

"Listen, chief. I'd like to pay up and get out. Think you could get hold of some top brass?"

The guard gave a lazy yawn and didn't budge. "Inspector has already drunk his nightly shot of Dwarven Extra Dry. He'll be heading home in a minute. Pointless looking for him now. You'll have to wait till tomorrow, dude."

"Hey, did you hear me?" Anxiety took over me. The freedom, so close only a moment ago, had flapped its wings departing in a direction unknown.

I produced a heavy gold piece and tapped it against the bars. "If you make it quick, you won't regret it. You can tell Inspector he won't be out of pocket, either."

The coin disappeared into the folds of his uniform. The guard hurried out. About ten minutes later, I'd already started losing my patience when an unhappy inspector made his appearance.

"You'd better have a damn good reason to impose on my personal time," he said meaningfully, rubbing finger and thumb together.

I flashed the gold coin but the inspector didn't bite. Behind his back, the guard signaled me with his open paw, apparently signifying the size of the baksheesh. Those game developers were barking mad. Having said that, it could be a clever way to remove superfluous funds from circulation. I just loved the way they did business. All you needed to do was draw some pictures of virtual gold and sell it to the players for hard cash, then prevent the inflation by charging the in-game currency for various services and consumables. If a player paid vendors just one gold a day, multiplied by forty million players, the company would rake in a hundred twenty million bucks a month. In reality though, the amount of money changing hands had to be a hundredfold more. Selling game gold wasn't a problem: the problem was acquiring considerable amounts of it as the Administration limited hard cash deposits to ten grand a month. If they didn't, the first relocated billion would be enough to crash the world economy. Having said that, an interested millionaire would always find common ground with the game owners—this was business and not a charity bazaar. All they'd do, they'd charge him for a palatial residence complete with vestal virgins, but he'd still have to queue for his cash with the rest of us. The best the Admins could do for the likes of him was to offer them a more agreeable exchange rate.

To cut a long story short, I had to pay him off. The Inspector graciously accepted my fiver, then charged me another hundred for the rest of my term. After yet another half-hour of red tape, I stepped onto the gray teleport pad.

"Till next time," the mage on duty smirked before activating the portal.

My feet jerked slightly with the impact. I found myself on a grassless spot about twenty paces from the city's north gate. I knew the place well. This was where I'd first entered the city. The sun was setting over the bustling crowd of players who'd just come home from work or school and jumped into their FIVR capsules. The night gaming session had begun.

I hurled two copper to a vendor and got myself a large frothy mug of beer. The drink had a pleasantly chilled straight-from-the-fridge taste. No idea if it was done by magic or as part of the game reality.

Freedom! I stepped aside and sat down on the grass. Blowing the froth off the beer, I longed for a handful or salted peanuts, but I was too comfortable to get up and walk around searching for them. Life was good as it was.

I emptied the mug in two hearty gulps and stretched out, basking in the evening sun. A shadow blocked it out. I opened my eyes: Eric.

He grinned, plopped down next to me and elbowed my ribs. "Long time no see! Where've you been, dude? I was already thinking you snuffed it a bit earlier than planned. Either that, or your plans to go perma didn't work out."

I sat up. "In your dreams. I was doing time, that's all."

"Whatcha mean?"

"Nothing really. Just some cops banged me up. Like, I'm a nasty Necro, so the guards started aggroing my pet and we had to smoke them double quick. Plus a few other things, enough for a short stretch. Then the cavalry arrived, well, they got me. I'll never forgive them my pet. Too good for words, he was."

I threw my hands in the air showing how much I missed him. Still, deep inside I was celebrating. The sight of a dumbfounded Eric was just too funny.

"You don't mean it."

"I damn well do. Only been out for ten minutes."

"You're too much, dude."

"You bet. You should stick with me if you want a nice cozy cell."

He guffawed.

"Listen, Eric. I've been meaning to ask you. Is there a way to find out whether I'm perma or not yet?"

He tensed, suddenly serious. "You mean you don't know yet? How long have you been in full immersion now?"

"Seven days non-stop."

He phewed. "Let's have a look. Close your eyes."

I did.

"Can you tell me where the sun is?"

I concentrated. The warm sunrays seeped through my eyelids and warmed my right check. I pointed without even thinking.

"Good. What else do you feel?"

"Hmm, let me think. There's a breeze in my face. A fly is crawling up my arm," I said, waving it off.

"Can you smell anything?"

"I can smell dung. And food. Flowers. I can also smell beer on myself and sweat on you."

"I didn't get the chance to remove my armor today," Eric murmured, embarrassed. "Let's try one other thing," he rattled through his bag. "Where's it now… ah, here, take it," he handed me a heavy piece of steel. "Tell me all you can about it."

I commented as I studied it. "It's either a knife or a dagger. Sorry, don't know much about them. It's old. The handle is leather, well worn. The blade is dull and rusty in places. It smells of rotten leather, and also of earth and steel. Very old, I'd say. The rust is flaking off."

Eric chuckled and took the thing away from me. "You can open your eyes. Well, congrats, dude. You're one of us now. Full immersion or not, a normal player wouldn't have noticed half of the stuff you've just told me. They call it virtual reality, but it's still a fake. But it's your home now. That's why you experience it full scale."

I looked at him, still unbelieving. "You think? Doesn't sound very convincing to me."

He smiled. "Okay. Let's do another check. But this one will depend on how long you've been in perma mode. Where's south east?"

I pointed without even thinking.

"How did you know?"

"Well, we've got the compass, haven't we?"

"Are you sure?"

I glanced over the interface and saw that the compass was gone. What the hell? How did I know, then?

Eric was having the time of his life watching me. "No one knows how it happens. The digitized players start losing the interface. Or rather, its functions turn into their own skills. The compass is one of the first to go. All the location maps get imprinted in your mind—that includes places where you haven't yet been to. By the way, you have camera eye now. Remember the last monster you killed? Can you list the objects he dropped?"

"Not a monster," I corrected him. "It was a guard. Two silver, nine copper and a badge."

I froze. I couldn't believe it. I really did remember.

"You see?" he said. "It means you were already digital when you did it. You have computer memory now. All you need is to open the logs and you'll remember it straight away. Cool, eh? Now the big check. Press the logout."

I felt uncomfortable. I'd press it, and it would throw me out. My dream life would turn out to be just that, a dream.

"Don't be a chicken, dude. Coming under fire feels much worse, I tell you. And still people do it. Go ahead and press it."

I pressed. Then I pressed again, and again. I froze for a second. Then I yelled in a George-Michael-ish falsetto,

"Freedom! Freedom! Freedom! You've gotta give for what you take!"

I jumped to my feet and did a bit of a song and dance. The bustling crowd turned their heads to look at me. Eric watched my dervish act with a smile. Then he gave me a bear hug.

"Congrats, dude. You've fooled the Grim Reaper. That's official. You back to the Three Little Pigs with me? This calls for a celebration."

"Sure I am. The memories of your chef's roast kept me going in the slammer. But first of all I've got to get to the bank and the post office."

"They're on the way. Which bank do you want? The AlterWorld or the Olders'?"

"They have their own bank?"

"They have lots of things."

I gave it a thought. "What's the difference?"

"The difference is, the Olders have a lower interest rate. They've also introduced lots of third party services like mailing, and better deposit and withdrawal options for perma players. Even special credit rates."

"Sounds good. Can I get a mortgage?"

"Don't laugh. You won't live in and out of hotels forever. One day you'll want a place of your own."

"Fair enough. Let's go see the Olders', then."

A ranger Elf came flying past us. I had a funny feeling I'd seen the guy before. As I frowned trying to fix the face to a place, he yelled, “Ten gold pieces to anyone with Red Bear’s coordinates!”

But of course. This was the dork who’d given me Teddy on a silver platter.

Having said that… “Eric, any idea why they’re all so obsessed about that bear?"

He cringed and waved the question away. “Don’t even remind me. I’ve wasted a month of my life on that wretched thing. I'd spent two weeks farming him all over the location. Finally, some freakin' noob sighted him and thought of nothing better than to post it in the chat. Before I got there, the place was so packed the poor Teddy got buried under all the wannabes. For the next two weeks I used to sit by the town gate, just like that ranger over there, promising a king’s ransom to anyone who’d direct me to the Red Bear. Finally, I got a tipoff, but when I got to him, there were four more dudes there already chasing him. I freaked out and added 4 kills to my PK counter. Piece of cake—I was already level 80 by then. Then I smoked the bear, and what do you think it dropped? A heart. Not a single vial of blood. It happens quite often. Sometimes you get none, other times you get two. After that, I just gave up. I’m not going to spend another month chasing him around the location."

As he spoke, I impatiently shifted from one foot to the other. “And? What’s all this about his heart and blood? Come on, tell me.”

Eric looked up at me, surprised. “Hey, keep your hair on. It's a quest. What else do you think it is? One of the best mounts around. The Royal Alchemist has a stuffed Red Bear and wants to try his animation potion on him. But he needs two more ingredients: the bear's heart and blood. If you give them to him, he can animate the bear and give him to you for a riding mount. Better than a horse. The Bear's weak at first, but that's not what matters. First, he can fight together with his master. And second, the bear receives some of your experience on top of his own. It's up to you how much you allow him to have. I think it's up to 10% or so. The Bear levels up really well, so the sooner you have him the more impressive the result. It can make a good top tank or alternatively, a cross between a mount and a truck. Too cool for words. Just don’t hold your breath, dude. Have a look at me first. A whole month I’ve been after him.”

Eric shrugged and turned away. I kept staring at him, my mind replaying what he’d just said. Did he mean you could revive the bear? Hummungus, pup! Daddy’s coming!

Chapter Sixteen

When the initial stupor had passed, I grabbed Eric’s sleeve and dragged him away from the main road. I dropped my bag on the ground and squatted, rummaging through its capacious inventory. Eric shifted his feet nearby, clueless as to what was causing the delay. Finally I found what I was looking for. I looked up at Eric and handed him one of the two vials containing Red Bear’s blood.

“Take it. It’s yours now. Just a trinket to celebrate my success.”

Unsure, Eric reached out and squinted at the vial, moving his lips, as he read the item's ID. Then he jerked his hand away. “Any idea how much this costs? Judging by your newb kit, it’s not as if you shit gold.”

“I’ve got two gold, to be precise. The rest I had to splurge on takeaways. Jail food nearly killed my palate.”

“You could sell the vial for a couple grand. Three, even. In gold.” I could see he was dying to accept the gift but his honesty was getting the better of him.

My inner greedy pig, who had only a moment ago been hopping up and down celebrating my freedom and the unexpected financial windfall, squeaked and dropped senseless with shock.

That was serious money. Had I known it, I’d have thought twice before giving the vial away. But claiming it back would mean a total loss of face. Besides, I liked this honest, cheerful and straightforward tower of a grunt.

I grinned, “Oh, whatever. You only live once. Take it. I'll distract my inner greedy pig before he throws a fit.”

Eric managed a shy smile and accepted the vial. “I’ll be damned, dude. You won’t believe how much time I’ve spent chasing after him. The bear is one hell of a mount. I'll do some work on him and he'll be slaying dragons. I owe you. Don't say anything. You're a Necro, aren't you? We'll have to check the bank. I'm sure they have something for you."

"I'm actually a Death Knight," I corrected, pointing his sense of gratitude in the right direction. "I specialize in pet summoning."

Overjoyed, Eric slammed my shoulder. My health bar quivered. A few guards exchanged worried looks as they passed by, tightening their grip on the weapons.

“Quiet, you ox. People have been killed with a lighter touch,” I rubbed my aching shoulder.

He just grinned nonsensically, pressing the vial to his chest. “Come along, then. I’ll take you to the bank, pick up the heart, then I'll go pay the alchemist a visit. My guys will freak out when they see me coming on the bear's back."

"Hold your horses, will you? I'm coming along. I want me a bear, too."

"Do you? Have you got another bear kit?"

I gave him a wink. Eric was brimming with emotion.

"Dude, you're awesome. Shame I can't refer you to our clan. You need to have combat experience to join. You haven't been in action, have you?"

"I did service, sure," I hurried to explain. "Air defense. Shoot'em down, sort'em out on the ground. But I wasn't in action, no. Probably for the better."

Eric nodded. "Most likely. But if we decide to start a nursery, I'll give you a reference and an invitation. You'll be a standby guy. Think you'll join?"

I shrugged. "We'll see. Thanks, anyway."

In the bank, everything went hunky dory. As a perma player, I was eligible for a low-rate bank account, providing my digitized status was confirmed by another perma with a solid track record. Eric fit the role fine. Among other freebies, they gave me a thirty days free texting number. All the messages arriving at the number were forwarded to my inbox. I could also use it for sending outgoing messages, but I couldn't do it myself, only through an operator. The plan was so good I signed up for automatic renewal: retaining contact with the outer world was worth the fifty gold it cost me.

I tested it on the spot, sending my Mom a quick and rambling message reproaching her for sending me too much money too soon, then thanking her all the same. Then I slapped my forehead and sent her another one in all-caps:

MOM! I WON'T DIE! I'VE MADE IT! YOU CAN TURN THE CAPSULE OFF NOW! I'M IN PERMA MODE!!!

I felt a bit uneasy typing the last sentence, but I'd been convinced by both Eric and my failure to log out.

I thought about their Internet services. It wasn't real Internet, of course—more like a paid database for perma players. You sent your search request to the operator who looked it up and sent you the most relevant search result. Twenty gold per request. A bit pricey for me at the moment, but it might come in handy at a later date.

The Olders seemed to have made it big. They basically controlled the service market. Need someone to look after your grave in the real world? Or a lawyer to take care of your offline property? Hire a nanny or a house help for your surviving family, buy whatever you fancied, check on your wife to make sure she hadn't stranded in your absence—easy.

So, for a nominal sum, you could subscribe to two news feeds: one that covered the virtual and the other the real world. The moment I heard about them, I had them both hooked up to my account. I also ordered a couple of books and subscribed to new offers from some of my favorite authors. I was shaking in anticipation of the moment when I hit my bed in the Three Little Pigs, pressing the full screen button and opening the latest bestseller sequel.

Finally, they offered me a choice of ID rings for instant account access. Every ring was personal, bound on equip, with various extras to choose from.

"This is our local handwork," the clerk's voice rang with pride as he handed me the silver ring with a +5 Strength modifier.

Regular players received a plain copper ring with no extras. Only permas were eligible for silver ones. I tried not to think who you had to be to get a gold one. Eric didn't wear his ring in public. Either he belonged to that choice category, or simply didn't want to publicize his perma status.

Problems were waiting at the bank's exit. I was still studying my new ring and only stopped when my head rammed a chainmail shirt. I raised my head. Tavor, the greedy Elf, was squinting at me. I didn't like what I read in his face. During my five days in the slammer, he'd kept leveling and was now 37. He didn't waste his time, did he? Having said that, his money and items could buy him any level he wanted.

Tavor grabbed my shoulder. "So, Drow savior? Fancy seeing you here. Mind following me to the arena? I've got something you might like… not."

I tried to shake his hand off but couldn't. The difference in our strength parameters was quite amazing. I should probably invest more into strength: you never knew when a perma like myself might need it.

Besides, Tavor wasn't alone. Three of his fellow clan members surrounded us and pushed us away from the bank doors. Their actions were quick and smooth—they must have done it a thousand times before. No idea how it all would have ended, had Eric not come out to join us.

"Hey! What's going on here? Get your hands off him, quick."

He rammed through their barrier and shoved the Forest Cats aside. Tavor gave him a moody look studying his level and the Veterans' clan badge.

"Sorry, dude. I'm afraid it's none of your business. The kid owes me. You don't want to interfere."

I struggled myself free. "I owe you nothing. You attacked me first. Then you fucked off and now you're the man? When you've got your hoods with you? Whassup, dude? Can't you manage it on your own?"

Tavor spat at my feet ignoring my challenge. The ring around me drew tighter.

Eric splayed his elbows, pushing my assailants aside. "He's my friend. Enough now. Are you fucking mad, settling your accounts in town? One drop of blood and the place will be crawling with guards. Give it a rest."

Tavor squinted at us, weighing up his chances, then apparently decided not to push his luck. His glance happened upon my ring.

"A perma, are we? Well, well, well. You know what? You're toast."

He turned away and called out to his henchmen, "Come on, guys. He's not going anywhere."

Eric stared after them. "You're good at making enemies, bud. What you really need is to join a clan. A strong one. Lone permas are in for a lot of trouble."

"Problem?"

"You could say so," he mumbled. "Just something people say about them. All of them, not just the Cats, you understand. Keep your eyes peeled now. Watch your back. Practice some invisibility spells. I also suggest you get Crystal Vision and keep it on you at all times. It'll allow you to see stealthers. Never create resurrection points in deserted areas: they might track you down and run you through your own personal hell, a death a minute for a week. They have special guys with unlimited PK counters who do just that. By unspoken agreement, permas are supposed to be immune from this kind of treatment, but… You know what I mean. Don't flash your ring in town. Your status is nobody's business. By the way, why didn't you just call the guards? While you're in town, no one can hurt you."

"Yeah. Stupid of me."

"You've got to get savvy now. For you it's not a game anymore. Trust me, this place isn't as cute and cuddly as it may look."

I nodded absent-mindedly. Then a thought crossed my mind. "Is it," I snapped my fingers, searching for the right word, "all this Wild West, is it really necessary? Even the Olders, what do they get out of this pissing contest with these thugs?"

Eric walked and dragged me along, explaining as he went. "All these old-age citizens, all the crafters, bankers and pacifists—normally, they just don't want to go beyond level 10 so they can preserve their startup immunity. So not every noob is a newbie, if you know what I mean. Some of them take a different route. They pay to be power-leveled. After two months, they are level 200-plus and all done up in so much epic gear you'd need a raid party to get one up on them. I may be exaggerating a bit, but not much."

We stopped by an affluent alchemy shop. Eric froze for a bit, checking the map. Then he pointed confidently, "This one. We'll go in together, I'll close the quest, you accept it right after me and close it, too."

Once inside, I was instantly distracted by the shop's contents. Before, I just couldn't afford to use any of those potions so now I eagerly studied their choice and prices. They had some classics: life and mana elixirs which worked over a period of time, allowing you to use them in battle but not giving you any considerable leveling advantage.

I picked up a Minor Health Potion. A tiny vial contained barely a mouthful of bright red liquid. It cost one gold piece. You squeezed it in your hand, and the stopper came out on its own. It started working thirty seconds after being swallowed, restoring up to 40 points health over a period of 10 ticks 5 seconds each, followed by a 3-minute cooldown during which you couldn't use it again. The idea was to minimize the time wasted on mana and hits regen while complicating protracted combat, allowing for easier soloing to those classes traditionally weak in solo leveling. Plus it helped relieve players of their money, no question about that.

The shop also had all sorts of potions: various armor and attack speed buffs as well as those increasing strength, agility, intellect and crit probability. Plus Eye of a Cat, Fish Breath and Crystal Vision as well as tons of other things.

Next to them stood a small collection of attack elixirs: poisons, acids and Molotov cocktails. Launching them was just like hurling gold at a target. An expensive exercise.

Safely tucked behind the shop owner's back, a protective magic field glittered over a special display. I studied its contents and phewed. For five hundred gold, those little vials raised any basic characteristic 1 point. Cooldown: twenty-four hours. Max cap: 200 extra points. For two thousand gold, you could get yourself an extra Talent point. Cooldown: five days. Cap: fifty points. Oh well. Tough toys for tough boys, and prices to match.

Then I heard a bear bellowing outside, followed by Eric's shrieks of delight. My heart shrunk and fluttered in my chest. Hummungus, sweet old Ted! I hurriedly approached the owner.

"Is it true, Sir, that you're looking for some rare elixir ingredients?"

The Elf owner, a picturesque type with bleak expressionless eyes, nodded gravely. "I am. I'm quite prepared to pay for any internal organs of rare beings."

New quest alert! The alchemist shop owner spends a lot of time looking for new magic formulas. For that purpose, he eagerly buys body parts from monsters level 100 and beyond.

Reward: Gold or Unknown Elixir.

Pardon me? I did accept the quest, no question about that. But where's my Teddy?

I felt a bit nervous. "Excuse me? Are you looking for something in particular?"

The owner didn't play hard to get. "Sure. There are a few things I'd buy from you right now. Or if money isn't what you're after, I could offer a swap for the resulting monster."

New quest alert! Bring the alchemist the heart and some blood of Red Bear, indigenous to the City of Light area.

Reward: Money or a unique mount.

Phew. Relieved, I dug into my bag for the quest objects. "I think I just happen to have what you're looking for."

The alchemist, wonderfully impassive, only wished to know what kind of reward I preferred. For a brief moment, he disappeared into a side room. When he came out, he placed on the counter a bone whistle on a leather strap.

Summoning Whistle. Binds when picked up. Summons a unique mount: Red Bear.

I grabbed the precious object and brought it to my lips. The alchemist recoiled, shielding himself with his hands. "Please don't! Not in my shop!"

Oops. That was a bit stupid. I mumbled my thanks and rushed out. Once in the street, I gave the whistle an almighty blow.

"WRRRGHRRRAAAAH!"

"Hummungus!"

Congratulations! This is your first riding mount. Would you like to rename Red Bear?

Yes!

A system window popped up displaying the mount's name. I deleted it and entered a new one:

Hummungus!