Текст книги "AlterWorld"

Автор книги: Dmitri Rus

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Текущая страница: 19 (всего у книги 22 страниц)

Chapter Twenty-Six

When I finally stopped distributing cigarettes to the eager, I didn't feel good. Honestly, I was scared by what I'd just seen. These weren't people wishing to cadge a smoke. These were addicts; this was cold turkey raising its ugly head. In the center of the city, right before my own eyes, decent citizens were prepared to kill each other over a fix, jumping at their biggest paladin hero's throat. Only now I started to understand what kind of genie I had just let out of the bottle. The terrible thing was, there was no way I could stuff him back in now.

Possessing this kind of recipe was like giving a fist-sized diamond to a hobo. The stone wouldn't make him rich; if anything, it would put an end to his life pretty soon. Then it would travel on, leaving a trail of blood wherever it went until it finally came to rest on a shelf in some billionaire's vault.

Potentially, this recipe meant millions: too much money and influence involved to allow a lone newcomer to make it. Whether I liked it or not, I had to become part of one of the more influential groups. It had probably been stupid of me to give myself away so openly. I should have tried to produce small batches and auction them for exorbitant prices. But then again, who would pay that kind of money for some obscure Emperor's Smoldering Delight, even if it looked like a cigarette?

Most importantly, this wasn't what the Admins were after. They didn't need eighty percent of a million, even. It was peanuts for them. They had simply decided to use the entrepreneurial youngster to beta-test the market. They wanted to study the demand, double-check its influence on the economy and see the public's reaction. Whatever happened, they could always tell the powers that be that they had nothing to do with it and blame it on the player's personal initiative. It wasn't their fault he'd mixed up a few ingredients that allowed him to puff rainbow smoke at the ceiling. Those players just couldn't help experimenting with substances, trying this and that, from moss to straw, so now it was seaweed's turn. They'd tell the powers that be that they were more than welcome to bring the scumbag to justice—if they got hold of him. Because the scumbag just happened to be a perma player and out of the real world's jurisdiction.

I opened the Wiki to check Russian clans' ratings. I had to find a strong syndicate to cover me. The Vets were #14 in the overall ratings. The Olders, #3. That was another unknown quantity. Logically, they were the ones to turn to. But… How sure was I that Russian get-rich-quick billionaires wouldn't stab the ambitious loner in the back? In real life, would I go cap in hand to one of those? No way. I'd rather die.

The Vets dropped to #32 in the economic ratings but made the Top 10 because of their military power.

Talk about the devil. Eric walked into the inn. Dan the cloak-and-dagger guy dallied behind. Now what did he want? I hadn't invited him. Had they already heard about the cigarettes?

For a moment, the two vets froze. Then they looked around, noticed me still standing with a couple of remaining cigarettes in my hand, and walked over to the bar.

Dan winced studying the packed room choking in smoke. Eric, ever the joker, slapped my shoulder with his steel hand. "I knew that if there was an anomaly somewhere, we had to find you at its center."

Dan didn't mince words. He gestured around the room. "Your work?"

I lowered a guilty head. "It was supposed to be a free promotion. I wanted to make everyone happy. Turned out, it was more like entering a cageful of hungry tigers carrying a bowl of steak. Can you imagine they very nearly ground Fuckyall into dust, of all people? All because of those wretched cigarettes."

Dan shook his head. "This is only the beginning. How sure are you that they'll let you out of this room now? Are you certain they won't chain you to that table in the corner and make you roll more cigarettes until some other clan kidnaps you and locks you up in a bunker?"

I cringed. "No need to be so negative. I already know I might need to turn to someone. Had you seen all the windows open in my interface, you'd have known I'm already working in this direction. Trust me I've already looked the Vets up, too."

There! If they wanted me to come crawling to them with my recipe on a silver platter, I wouldn't give in so easily. Let them make the first move and make me an offer I'll find hard to resist.

"Is that your recipe?" Dan said. "Did you make it?"

"Yeah."

"Lots of people tried before you," he added tentatively.

"You can't make it from scratch. It's too obvious. You have to create a sequence of tasks leading to the end result you need."

Eric shrugged. "Bullshit. Wait till the Admins come back to their senses tomorrow. They'll axe your recipe before you know it. So before it happens, how about a few?"

"Oops, sorry, guys. Completely forgot."

I handed them a cigarette each. The two men pulled at them with relish.

"Too good," Eric managed.

I wasn't going to trash my merchandise. "Talking about the Admins. No way they're gonna axe it. They already have their cut."

Dan perked up. "Are you sure? Do you realize how that changes everything?"

"Read this," I forwarded him the letter from the Administration.

He scanned the text, then went through it again, slower this time, looking into all the fine print. "The twenty percent of profits that they've left you is a lot. In real life, tobacco vendors don't have that. Taxes… excises… Aha. They're talking about the patent. Does it mean you have a full unique patent protected for 10% coverage? You can grant manufacturer's licenses but you don't have the right to relinquish the patent without their consent? Is that so?"

I thought about it. He'd somehow managed to unscramble the whole thing. Looked like he was right. My diamond was even more precious than I'd thought. Right now it had grown to the size of a melon.

I nodded, "Exactly."

"That's smart," he said slowly.

Eric turned to him, "Why do you think the Admins decided to leave him the patent? And even allowed him to grant licenses?"

"I think all they want is to tie the invention to a perma player. This way it would be much easier for them to keep lawyers at bay. You can't sue a perma. At least not for the time being."

He sat back and fell silent, squinting at the play of smoke like a cat basking in the sun.

Eric reached into his bag and produced a small figurine depicting my demoness in the heat of battle. Her hair was flying in the wind; she was baring her teeth, grinning, as she raised her whip in a violent hand. I peered at the characteristics.

The Gold Figurine. The second prize in the Tournament of Familiars. You can sell it or keep it. Fixed price: 300 gold.

"Thanks, dude," I carefully put the prize away into my bag. Looked like it was time to fix up a shelf on the wall of my room to display all these cups and prizes. Sort of miniature Hall of Fame.

Dan shook his head and slapped the oak table. I'd love to know what he had on his mind now. He leaned forward and lowered his voice, "Would you like to make us an offer?"

"Actually, I expected you to do the same. But I'm not going to beat around the bush. I'd like to completely distance myself from both production and sales. I'd like to use my right to grant the license to whoever I want but stick to the Admins' sales rates demands. Instead, I'd like to get my cut and the clan's full support—ideally, something like honorary membership. I do understand the importance of discipline and subordination, but still I'd hate to have to go through your marching drills. So I'd love to be allowed to skip the soldier's stage."

Eric's face reflected surprise. He'd probably never even thought there could be other ways to join the clan but the standard cadet-private-sergeant chain. But somehow I found it hard to believe that their esteemed bookkeeper, Mr. Simonov, had had to do a month of square-bashing with other junior cadets. It meant that in certain cases, the clan could indeed make exceptions.

Dan stared at me, thoughtful and appraising. Wonder if he was toying with the idea of locking me up in some bunker of their own? Finally, he spoke,

"I've heard you out. I don't have enough authority to decide whether we can accept it or not. Only the clan's General Council can do that, including its Dark Branch. One thing I can tell you now: even our clan is not powerful enough to handle this caboodle. No one will forgive us this gain in power. Fear and jealousy will force our opponents to join forces. Together they'll crush us. You can't just share this recipe with our clan. We need to create a coalition to exploit this. We make up part of a rather powerful military alliance. If we make them this sort of offer, they'll join us. This is the standpoint I will present at the Council."

Right. This was how I'd thought it would be. "How much time will it take them to come to a decision?"

"Tomorrow I'll let you know their response. I'll start calling it up straight away. Do you have some more cigarettes for the presentation?"

I nodded, handing over another handful. About thirty, that should be enough. Noticing Eric's pleading eyes, I sneaked another dozen to him. For a moment I wondered whether I should mention Taali's problem and then thought against it. I really should wait for the Council's decision regarding my status. It was one thing to decide whether to help a total stranger and quite another to a fellow clan member.

Dan placed the cigarettes carefully into his pocket and turned back to me. "What would you say to staying in our castle for a couple days?"

That got me thinking. The offer was curious any way you looked at it. It could be his wish to protect me—whether sincere or not. It could also mean the chained-in-the-bunker scenario. I doubted they'd go that far: after the generous offer I'd made, they would be more interested in cooperation than in ruthless kidnapping. And still I decided to decline it. Wouldn't be a good thing to so openly reveal my vulnerability, coming to the Vets cap in hand.

"Thanks, man, but I don't think so. In any case, just for the sake of my paranoia, I might check the recruitment page and hire a couple bodyguards. Just for peace of mind."

He shook his head. "We don't leave our men in the lurch. You're the clan's friend now. Your offer promises considerable returns, and we don't trust strangers with guarding our property. I'll bring a few special-ops guys. They'll rent a room next door to yours. At least two of them will be hanging about your room at all times. If you need to go out, they'll be around, too."

A generous offer, hard to resist. To hire a stellar group like that would have cost me five grand a day. Now I really had nothing to worry about. No one could just kidnap me on the sly—and if it came to fighting, a group like that was capable of handling considerably superior forces engaging them until reinforcements arrived.

With that, we closed our business talks. We stayed on for a hearty meal, discussing their open house day. Apparently, the Russian salad had received first prize at the cooking contest. By way of a prize, the clan was now buying the license for the recipe from the woman who'd made it, so now it was going to be a permanent staple in the castle's mess hall. Eric gave me a wink and promised to sneak out the recipe for me.

"Fucking womanizer," Dan chuckled.

I laughed and gave Eric a high five, slapping his palm with gusto. What a man! The recipe was worth it, even if he had to shag the whole kitchen and the dishwashing girl to boot.

"And what about this familiars' contest?" I remembered. "My kitty got the second prize. Who got the first one, then?"

They exchanged glances and burst into laughter.

"What?" I leaned across the table. "Come on, spill the beans."

"You won't believe it."

"I would. At the moment, I'll believe anything."

"Winnie the Pooh. A white teddy with a pink nose."

They'd said I wouldn't believe it. So I didn't. "What do you mean, Winnie the Pooh? The cartoon one?"

"Remember the little girl? Our captain's daughter?"

"The one who's forever twelve years old?"

"Exactly. So she did this quest. A totally boring and intensely useless social one, eighteen tasks to complete. Those who do it are either masochists or they just can't forget the little puppy they used to have at home in real life so they want to bring the fucking thing here. The final prize allows them to upload their pet's picture and have it animated. I've no idea what AI thought about it. Maybe it was just exercising its sense of humor. But if you come across a ghostly white bear in one of the castle corridors, just offer him a slice of meat. It won't pester you much."

"Meat. I thought Winnie the Pooh liked honey? Did you try to give him honey?"

"He won't eat it. He turned out to be a carnivore, apparently. But very cute to look at."

Oh well, stranger things happen at sea.

With all that talk I'd missed the arrival of the five special-ops guys. They'd installed themselves at a table next to ours and were now sipping their beers casting greedy glances at the dying cigarette smoke.

Dan called up their leader. "Meet Lieutenant Brown. A 160 wizard. He'll be nursing you for the next twenty-four hours. Create a group and grant them a teleport permission. You never know, they might need to pull you out quickly. Also, allow them access to your room."

Reluctantly I did what he'd suggested. At least this way I might find out if I'd been a total idiot trusting the Vets or if I could actually rely on them. Just in case, I sent a word to Taali describing the situation. That way, at least there would be some trace left in case I disappeared from my hotel room.

With that, I parted from Eric and his secret-service friend. They teleported to their castle while I took cover in my room from a new wave of tobacco lovers.

I had virtually no cigarettes left—about thirty or so. I gave half to the bartender telling him to distribute them however he saw fit. Then I announced that I'd run out completely and was temporarily unavailable. I walked up the stairs to the third floor. Lieutenant Brown entered my room with me, to study the layout and give a few instructions to his men. I told them how much I appreciated their help and gave them the remaining smokes. In return, he shook my hand long and hard and promised to guard me so that not even a fly could harm me.

Finally, everybody faded away. I collapsed on the bed. I still had to check out the auction and see the auto buy results. They were good. I now had three hundred doses of pollen and enough of the other ingredients for a thousand cigarettes. I could have bought more but I had set my prices low hoping to profit from their Buy Now! offers.

My glance happened on the top sales section. It was raging with buyers discussing the offer of the first—according to the description—cigarette in the digital world. The bids had reached a thousand gold and apparently weren't going to stop at that. My inner greedy pig turned blue, gasping for air. How I understood him! I'd spent a lot of time and money making the product, then gave away a lot of my stocks for free while someone in that crowd had thought he was clever and was now raking it in? Oh, no. That wasn't the way to go. From now on, I was going to cream it off, too.

I rolled up my sleeves and set about working, casting occasional glances at the offending auction. Three hours later I realized I hated the crafting process body and soul (or whatever perma players had). Time to hand over the license before it did me in. I dreaded the prospect of spending the next two hundred years rolling cigarettes in my room. God forbid.

Finally, I sat back, admiring the results. A long ribbon of finished cigarettes snaked across the table. Two hundred fifty.

Now: Life of a Masochist, part two. I formed auction lots selling them one at a time, adding one lot every half an hour. Starting price: one gold. They were welcome to bid it up as much as they wanted.

I didn't expect Taali. She had some unfinished business in real life. So I had to spend the night on my own. Very soon I should maybe start thinking about moving up a floor. I needed more space if Taali really wanted to move in with me. Also, it was a status thing. I sent my Mom a surprise MMS describing my visit to the vets' castle and adding a few pics of nice views, prizes and the awards ceremony. Undoubtedly, Mom would want to know who the Elfa was that was clinging to her sonny boy. It was about time they met, really. I just hoped Mom could get used to the possibility of an out-of-body life. I might even convince her to move here, too. A young healthy body and a new world full of colors and sounds—that should be enough for her mind to shed the chains of old age. She might even find herself someone in the digital crowd. The Constable Major Medved seemed serious and imposing enough.

The financial question seemed to be coming under control. The tournament had helped a lot, of course, both in gold and in items. But the main source of our future wellbeing had to be the sale of cigarettes and cigarette licenses. Which justified a drink. I rummaged through my bag and pulled out the vial I'd stashed away for a rainy day.

Unknown Skill Elixir

Item class: Epic

Contains a random skill. In order to learn the skill, drink the vial's contents.

Instead of a rock bottom, the initial financial abyss had now ended with a gigantic trampoline. I wasn't broke which meant I had to drink it. I was facing an eternity where even a useless skill like creating illusions or setting off fireworks could prove useful one day.

I clasped the vial, and the stopper popped open. In a spray of colorful sparks, a pleasant fragrance filled the room. Well, here's to the future!

Congratulations! You've learned a unique skill: Splitting

Cast Time: 0

Mana Expenditure: 0

By using this skill, you can split your summoned pet into a certain number of controlled creatures (the number corresponding to the Skill's current level). Their levels will equal that of the initial creature divided by the number of new pets. The split creature's maximum level cannot exceed that of the caster.

Bah. Didn't understand one word of it. I read through the message again. Aha, now I started to get it. If I summoned a level 50 pet, I could split him into two level 25 ones. Oh well. As far as I was concerned, the basic skill was less that useless. Could I improve on it, maybe?

I studied the menu. They had to have two upgrade options. One was increasing the number of the creatures. And the other… Now the other was quite different. For every point invested, the little splinters grew two levels. In theory, if I added twelve points now, I'd have two level 50 pets. That was just too good. Shame I only had one point to spare. Also, my leveling up would increase the gap so I'd end up investing half my talents into this skill just to keep the pets in the top range.

All that deduction had given me a headache. I had to sit down with a calculator and look into it properly. Tomorrow, maybe. I needed to sleep on it.

I spent the morning reading the news. Predictably, the arrival of the cigarettes had made the headlines. At least my name hadn't come up anywhere. Either they'd failed to figure me out or decided not to expose me for the time being. They all spoke about an anonymous player who'd managed to sidestep the tobacco ban, hypothesizing when exactly the Admins would close his little shop. Experts advised buying up cigarette lots and sitting on them, predicting prices would soar when cigarettes once again became rarities. This was advice I could really appreciate. Had I known the name of the expert, I'd have sent him some money for his piece of mind. Actually, could it be Dan trying to sell part of the samples I'd given him? I wouldn't put it past him. This kind of scheme was right up his alley.

Having said that… I opened the auction and checked the previous night's auto buy results. The insiders must have noticed the rise in demand for pollen; both the offer and the prices had grown overnight as the market was finding a new balance. I had a stock of over two thousand doses and even more of secondary ingredients. I could now go easy on buying. The auto buy had diligently dispensed with all of the seven hundred gold I'd entrusted it with, and was now flashing its little light reminding me to top up the balance. I did as it requested, then reset it to concentrate on pollen.

The prices for cigarette lots kept soaring out of all proportion. The current auctions had them in the region of five hundred-plus apiece. The auto buy account was flooded with private messages. Some expressed their disbelief; others threatened; a few naive players asked me to share the recipe. A news reporter hassled me for a private interview. That could prove useful a bit later once I'd closed the license deal: then I'd have to take steps to remove the target from my back.

I wrote him back asking about suitable interview dates and other details. If I could play for time for a bit, I could hopefully come out of the closet by then.

I rolled another hundred cigarettes, for myself and for networking purposes. My bodyguards were already in the group chat, asking if I wanted to join them for morning coffee. I got the hint. I invited them in and we had a nice little talk sending fragrant smoke curling to the ceiling.

Finally, Taali arrived. She stormed into the room forcing the bodyguards to jump up and line the walls. She stared at the haze-filled room, indignant, then opened the window and waved her hands, trying to banish the colorful smoke from the room. The lieutenant chuckled and snapped his fingers. A tangible breeze swept through the chamber.

That got me curious. "What's this spell you have? Draft #5?"

He didn't appreciate my sense of humor. "It's not a spell. Pure mental force."

"What do you mean, mental? I don't think I remember this skill in the game."

"There is no skill. There's an aptitude. You see, those who've been digital for a while—and I've been here for the best part of two years now—we don't seem to depend as much on the game code. We start to push the envelope a bit as we learn to control our own power outside of the limits set for us by the game developers. Nothing extraordinary, really. Children begin to grow, old people rejuvenate, and little by little, we learn to control magic. Your own element starts to obey first: I'm an air wizard, you know. And then… God knows."

Taali and I didn't move, digesting what he'd just said. "Holy cow," she whispered.

The wizzy nodded. "Exactly. It's not a game anymore. Hasn't been for quite some time—for us, at least. Probably, if two digitized partners wanted a baby really badly, I can't see why they couldn't…"

Now we all fell silent. The world puzzle had turned again, revealing to us its new sides and colors. The bodyguards tactfully made themselves scarce while Taali was pressing me for more details, oohing and aahing with concern. But behind it I could see she was proud of her man, a go-getter who wasn't going with the flow but went out on a limb seeking opportunities and grabbing them. I felt flattered even if I realized that her noises of support were just one of the things that made for a happy marriage. Some women don't seem to understand such simple stuff as they vent their indignation with their Tom, Dick or Harry apparently not being able to get off the couch and change their lives for the better.

As I lounged on the bed admiring my paladin maid, I remembered Fuckyall's gift. I took out the bracelet and looked up its characteristics.

Weeping Shackles

Item Class: Rare

Upgrades: Life Stone x2

Class Restrictions: Paladin

Minimal level: 150

+90 to Armor, +40 to Strength, +40 to Agility

When the owner sustains damage, Life Tears have a 24% chance of spraying, restoring the group members' life +120 pt.

Now that was a bracelet! I didn't even want to know how much it cost, or my inner greedy pig would smother me with a pillow in my sleep. "Taali? I've got something for you."

She turned away from studying her portrait on the wall and gave me an inviting and curious smile. I didn't beat around the bush and handed her the item.

She peered at it. Her eyes opened wide. "You can't be serious. Just don't tell me you've farmed it yourself. Although I wouldn't put it past you."

I shrugged, faking indifference. "A swap. I traded it with Fuckyall. It's his personal item… was."

"Holy cow," she whispered, pressing it to her chest. "I'll have to grow into it. Back in real life, I have this solid silver bracelet… and I think this one costs more. It's all so relative…"

She jumped onto the bed and straddled me. "Want another example of relativity?"

Slowly, she began undoing the top buttons of her blouse as I watched, intrigued. She reached under the collar and pulled out a small blue stone on a piece of string.

"Do you recognize it?" she asked. "A gnoll camp and a sad-eyed girl…"

"A laurite," I said. "The laurite…"

"That's it," Taali gave me a proud, happy smile. "The one you gave me on the day we met. I'm sorry, but it's more precious to me than Fuckyall's bracelet. That's relativity for you…"

I reached out and touched the stone. I looked into her eyes and gently pulled the laurite down toward me, making her lean closer and closer.

The next two hours went too quickly. Still, I couldn't complain. Tired but pleased with ourselves, we were lounging in bed when I received Dan's message. Apparently, the meeting was taking too long; he didn't expect them to come to a decision before tomorrow. He was leaving me the bodyguards begging me not to stick my neck out, with a warning that the situation was heating up and sharing the tobacco pie had created more waves than we'd expected. He attached a large file from Mr. Simonov containing his propositions on forming a tobacco alliance and creating an AlterWorld tobacco market. I scrolled through pages of diagrams of suggested volumes, market coverage rates and distribution channels. Dan insisted I forwarded the file to the Admins straight away and asked for a green light. If we got it, pushing the Council for the right decisions would be much easier.

Oh well. He and his friends seemed to be working hard and their objectives seemed to coincide with mine. I forwarded it.

Now I needed to decide what to do with myself in the meantime. Taali didn't have this problem: blaming the full-immersion time restrictions, she took off back into the real world. After racking my brains for a while, I remembered the idea I'd been toying with for a while. I still had a good half a ton of loot that Teddy was lugging around. I had to sort it out but I really didn't want to go out into the courtyard. Skeptically I glanced over the room, pushed all the furniture into the corners and pulled out the Summoning Whistle.

The room rang with the bear's happy hollering, sounds of smashed crockery and a crushed chair. I went flying onto the bed. Apparently, the room was smaller than I thought. The door crashed open as one of the bodyguards attempted to break in. He hit the bear's side blocking the doorway and bounced back. I heard the electric crackle of a spell being cast and hurried to remove the bear.

I was facing a scene of complete desolation. Now I knew the full meaning of the bull in a china shop thing. The lieutenant froze in the doorway. He cut short the almost-cast spell, shaking the remaining sparks off his fingers and shrugged, studying the room.

"You're too much, you know that? If you need to summon your bear so badly, why not do it downstairs in the yard? We'll cover you."

"Sorry, guys. I've never done well in geometry. I just failed to fit the bear into the space available."

We all stomped down the stairs. As I sorted through the loot, the passersby got an eyeful of my bear—a rare sight for low-level players. A second lieutenant arrived and helped his troops to carry all the goodies to the nearest store. Here I must mention that all five bodyguards were company officers which said a lot about their professionalism and their place in the clan. They all laughed at my penny loot but apparently enjoyed helping me, even if to escape the boredom. I made about two hundred gold—peanuts considering the recent developments. At least I managed to sort through a whole lot of crafting ingredients I had set aside. I had something to do now, leveling alchemy. Finally, I checked Teddy's characteristics to make sure I hadn't missed any spare points.

Type: Riding Mount

Name: Hummungus (Red Bear)

Level: 26

Strength: 80

Constitution: 50

Attack: 57-71

Speed: 10 mph

Riders: 2

Weight-carrying capacity: 1000 lbs.

Special abilities: Armor Carrier, Arms Carrier, Mule II, Transporter

The latter ability, which I'd chosen at level 25, allowed me to sit a second player on my mount: an option that became more and more important in the light of my socialization and especially my relationship with Taali. That's life for you! The process of a battle bear turning into a family couch.

Once I was sold out, I treated the guys to a dinner and succumbed to their cue, distributing more cigarettes to their night watch. Then I walked back upstairs to my room. Until then, that recipe had been nothing but a nuisance. Talking about making a rod for one's own back. There I was, sitting in my room like a chunk of cheese in a mousetrap. Everyone around me was twitching their nose, sniffing it, too scared to raise their little claws to snatch it. Which was a good thing. I didn't really want to be clawed by anyone who wanted a piece of me.

The first auctions were now finishing. The cigarette lots went for one to two thousand gold. I only had the mass media to thank for building up the right amount of hysteria. Now, about every half-hour, another few hundred gold dropped into my account. The Admins made sure they got their cut. At least they hadn't taxed Fuckyall's bracelet. Still, I probably shouldn't abuse the trading market.