Hero

by Dan Sugralinov

  “And if I refuse?”

  “That would be rather stupid. You see, even though the Vaalphors can’t directly control a test subject, they’re perfectly capable of controlling the chain of chance. Like a twig that drops from a tree onto a windshield, causing the driver to be momentarily distracted just as you’re crossing the road. You know what I mean? Have you seen Final Destination? In other words, if you refuse you should be prepared for all kinds of trouble. And even if you do manage to survive them without a mental breakdown, then you’ll still be abducted for another trial. If you pass it, you’ll keep the interface and go on living as before until the local finals. If you don’t, you’ll either lose all your new skills or you’ll die.”

  “I see. Not a very rosy outlook,” I lowered my head, searching for something to counter him with. “Why are they so bent on screwing me up? Can’t they just leave me in peace and let me retake the test without all this chain of chance nonsense?”

  “Because even for them, abduction is too energy-consuming. And you have no chance of ever passing the Trial, Phil. It’s going to be a complete waste of resources. Your development is lamentably inadequate to anything that might help you pass. As you know, the Senior Races have mastered the art of being omnipresent, appearing in many dimensions simultaneously and sliding between them as they see fit. This allows them to work out all the odds most favorable for the Commonwealth of Sentient Races. And the eventuality of you keeping the interface is potentially too risky for everyone. So you’d better agree to what they offer now.”

  “Well, if it’s like that...” I hesitated on the verge of accepting his offer.

  I’d lived quite happily without the interface before, hadn’t I? And with a million bucks in my pocket and a nice fat contract with J-Mart I could definitely reach new heights. My strength, my growing six-pack, my fighting skills and my eyesight which was still as sharp as when I’d been a child — none of these were going to disappear. I’d keep on training. So what if my progress would take several times longer? What kind of problem was that? Welcome to the real world!

  The prospect of losing the interface didn’t appear so grim to me anymore. I was going to miss Martha, that’s for sure. I wished I could find out who she’d been modeled after, though. You never know, I might meet her prototype IRL. She was my dream girl, after all.

  “Hurry up,” the oligarch said. “Make up your mind now. I’m already late. And I don’t think I can stand this heat for much longer.”

  He climbed off the bench. I rose and took a deep breath as I came to a decision.

  “Very well, Sir. Let it be so.”

  Chapter Twelve. The Coin Stands on Its Edge

  Fortune doesn't favor fools.

  League of Legends

  “GOOD DECISION,” Valiadis said, looking pleased. “I’m gonna tell you now how to uninstall-”

  “Sorry, Sir. I’m afraid you misunderstood me.”

  As I said it, I was confronted with a silence and his watchful stare. He must have realized I hadn’t finished because he sat down again.

  Mechanically I activated Lie Detection. Now of all times, I had to be sure no one was trying to lead me up the garden path.

  “Let it be so,” I repeated. “Let everything stay as it is now. When my time comes, I’ll do my best to pass the Trial.

  “Phil,” he began, then stopped, grinding his teeth, all the while trying to put his thoughts into words. “I wouldn’t call it a wise decision. You understand it’s not a joke, don’t you? Try to imagine yourself becoming the main target of every police and criminal authority, every professional hitman and every religious fanatic on planet earth. Now multiply it by a billion billions... how much is it? I keep forgetting what it’s called...”

  “A quintillion, Sir,” I offered him from my mine of useless information.

  He nodded, showing no surprise. “Whatever. That’s the situation you’ll be in if you refuse the offer of a million dollars cash and all the skills you’ve already leveled up. The only difference being, you’ll never know what hit you.”

  A burly figure appeared behind the sauna’s glass door. “Are you all right, Sir?”

  “I’m fine, Misha, thanks. Could you get us some water, please?”

  The bodyguard momentarily disappeared, then returned with two frosted bottles. Valiadis and I drank greedily, then he continued from where he’d left off,

  “Okay. It’s your decision. But may I ask you why?”

  “For lots of reasons,” I said. “I’m a gamer, don’t forget. I can’t resist a challenge. Also, I’m quite used to the interface. Quite honestly, I can’t imagine living without it now. But it’s pretty irrelevant, really. What’s important are the people behind me.”

  “You don’t think that a million dollars is enough for you to help them? You’re talking about your family, aren’t you?”

  “Not really, Sir. I’ve opened an employment agency. Our clients are mostly down-and-outs. How am I supposed to help them without the interface? I might have, I suppose, had I had a name already or a good reputation among the employers. But at this stage, without the interface I won’t stand a chance.”

  Was it my imagination or had his face warmed? Still, I hadn’t received any Reputation messages. Which meant it was my imagination.

  “What’s the interface got to do with it?” he asked, faking indifference.

  “I need the map search. It shows everything: not just people or landmarks but all sorts of companies and public offices. All I do, I enter a particular person in it and search by their employment probability...”

  “You what?” he jumped to his feet, hitting his head on the low ceiling. “Dammit! A probability search? Is that even possible?” his expression clouded over as he focused on his own interface.

  “I can’t believe it!” he finally said. “Well, you live and learn!”

  “Have you tried it?”

  “I’ve just searched for my shops, then sorted them by the probability of embezzlement by their management. Those useless bastards don’t know their asses from their elbows! I’m surprised we haven’t yet had a visit from the tax police! Misha! Misha!” he shouted.

  I still didn’t understand who this Misha guy actually was. Was it his aide or his bodyguard? You wouldn’t send a bodyguard on this kind of errand, would you?

  The door opened. “Yes, boss?”

  “Get me Hermann straight away!” he shouted, rolling his “r”s. The power of his voice was such that I very nearly took off myself to get Alex Herrrrmann strrrraight away. Valiadis must have had some kind of Commander’s Aura or some such ability.

  “Yes, Sir!” Misha barked.

  “Listen, Phil,” Valiadis said excitedly. “I had no idea it could work like this. How did you find that out? I knew I could use the map to search for better suppliers. This was something I realized almost straight away when I’d opened my first grocery store in the suburbs,” he chuckled. “I still remember it. I had to do everything myself: I served the customers, I did all the buying in, I unloaded the trucks myself... Okay, sorry, I got carried away. It’s not the right moment. So how did you work that out?”

  “Have you ever searched for gear on a gaming auction?”

  “Gear? On a gaming auction? I don’t even know what you mean. Wait a sec.”

  Well, well, well. I was dying to find out what his own interface looked like and how it functioned. Because if he wasn’t a gamer, how had he learned all these things? What was his leveling scenario based on?

  Or did he even have one?

  He rose and peeked out of the door. “Misha, I want you to call them and tell them I might be late. And order me my tea, same as usual.”

  “Yes, Sir!” the man replied. Valiadis probably had several of them posted there.

  “Phil, I’m going to delay my flight now and then we’ll finish talking. Only not in here. I suggest we clear off. My interface is already warning me about the unacceptably high heart rate and overheating. Yours too?”


  “Not yet. Mine’s still quiet.”

  “It’s great to be young,” he wrapped a bathrobe around himself. “Let’s go.”

  We made ourselves comfortable in two deck chairs by a low table and continued.

  “This conversation is getting interesting, I have to admit. Judging by your stats, it’s mutual. In which case, seeing as we’ve already discussed the main subject regarding the future of your interface, I suggest we carry on not as a supervisor and test subject, nor as a buyer and seller, but as friends sharing the same interests. Especially as our mutual interests are admittedly rather rare.”

  “If I remember rightly, Khphor was talking about some tens of thousands of test subjects representing planet Earth.”

  “And that’s just those who’ve already passed the test. Twenty-eight thousand five hundred and sixty-one people, or thirteen to the power of four. They use a numerical system based on the number 13. And as for test candidates, there’re way more than that. If we talk about this particular time period in our branch of reality, there’re far fewer than that. But I can’t tell you the exact number.”

  “Can you at least give me an approximate figure?”

  “About a thousand in the last five years. Almost all of them have already been stripped of their interfaces. Some of them broke down almost immediately thinking they must have lost their minds. A few rocketed up the social ladder, attracting unwanted attention and had to be either liquidated or dissected. A few, like you, simply failed the Trial. I suggest you look closer at certain spheres of social life over the last few years. All those surprise success stories in the film industry, sport, business, politics and science? Could you reel off a few names of people who have risen to great heights only to promptly disappear off the radar?” he paused to take a sip of his herbal tea. “Pay special attention to all the guerilla leaders and new revolutionaries — all those ex-teachers, doctors and car mechanics who all of a sudden felt a strange affinity with a country they previously hadn’t even given two hoots about — and who then left to join up with one of the factions. Try to remember all the outbursts of mass and serial killings committed by perfectly ordinary people. All of them had been leveling up, earning XP points and improving their skills until a certain moment when they lost everything, their heads included.”

  “But why would they want to kill anyone? When you can simply-”

  “Stop it! Don’t say anything!”

  He must have seen the surprise on my face because he added,

  “Never tell anyone your leveling up details or how your interface works. I don’t know why but for some reason, by doing so you stop gaining XP in the area which you’ve shared with that particular person. It’s as if the program hears it and realizes you’re only in it for XP.”

  “Does that mean it doesn’t hold with farming?”

  “What’s farming got to do with it? Are you leveling up agriculture?”

  “No, Sir. Farming is a gaming term. It means performing various actions with the purpose of gaining XP or certain resources.”

  “Aha, I see. No, it doesn’t hold with farming. What was it you were saying about gaming auctions?”

  “Well... players use them to buy and sell various gear which is put up for auction by other players. Often, there’re millions of items being traded simultaneously at any given time which is why any game worth its salt has very detailed search filters. Things like armor, weapons, gems, elixirs and such are only very basic approximations. Imagine that I need a particular dagger which is fast and light, suitable for my level, which also improves my chances of dealing critical damage, boosts my Agility and costs under one million gold?”

  “Enough,” he nodded. “I got it. With your gaming background, I’m not surprised you’ve worked out the probability filter. How did you come to use it the first time?”

  “I have this friend... only at that time he wasn’t a friend yet... his name is Alik. I helped him find some work.”

  Your Reputation with Nicholas Valiadis has improved!

  Current Reputation: Indifference 15/30

  A pretty girl in a revealing bikini walked past us, swaying her hips. Sensing Valiadis’ eyes on her, she turned round and paused briefly, flashing him a smile over her shoulder. He immediately lost all interest, returning his attention back to me.

  Did he realize that my Reputation with him had improved? Having said that, with his level 5 in Insight he could probably even tell my blood composition.

  “And still, Sir. What other interface types are there? Could you at least tell me something about those that used to belong to the people who’ve lost them already?”

  “They’re all different, Phil. All of them work by encouraging the user’s tendencies, both the known and secret ones. The actual interface takes the form which ensures the user’s understanding. A religious fanatic will see signs from God; a New Age student will think he’s communicating with Mother Nature or learns the lost technologies of Atlantis. A talented person will think he’s being inspired while others will simply “see auras” or hear voices. Few of them even make it far enough to activate Insight without which the interface as you and I know it won’t even open. There was this psychic, a funny guy who stopped at the very first thing available to all users immediately after the program’s installation: determining other people’s names and ages. I don’t know how it works for you but he used to take one look at a person and he already knew their name. No fancy graphics involved. That was enough for him to make a good living. He got accepted for an American talent show and received the million-dollar prize. Predictably, he then failed the Trial...”

  “And you, Sir? Do you have any main characteristics?” I asked, not certain of getting an answer.

  “Of course. Every user has them. I can give you the names of mine: the physical development index, the intellectual development index, the wisdom index — which is the combination of life experience and the ability to pick an optimal solution when offered the choice of several; also, clout and luck.”

  “Luck?”

  “Yes, why? Don’t you have it? It’s a very subjective factor, I agree, but as I leveled it I noticed that even unfavorable circumstances began to take a course suitable for me. I even began to win more often at cards,” he smiled. “The other day in Monaco I had my number come up three times in a row at the roulette wheel.”

  I whistled.

  “The probability of that happening,” he continued, “is just over one in a million, as you can well imagine. Okay... What’s the time now? Misha!”

  “Yes, boss,” Misha reappeared by his side. “Hermann’s waiting.”

  Judging by my interface, Misha was his aide. Despite his appearance of a dumb beefcake, his level 12 in Task Scheduling spoke for itself. At this proficiency, he could probably schedule the entire course of the Third World War second by second.

  “Let him wait,” Valiadis said. “Okay, Phil, I gotta fly. Business and all that.”

  “Thank you so much, Sir,” I shook his hand wholeheartedly. Today for the first time I’d seen a human being in him.

  “Don’t mention it. I doubt we’ll ever meet again. I know what Khphor is capable of so already I don’t envy you. I’ve already told him about your decision. But... I fully respect your choice. If ever you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

  Only after he’d got out of the deck chair, had I remembered why I wanted to see him in the first place. “Sorry, Sir, one last question.”

  “Yes?”

  “I had a very strange girl come to the agency. My Lie Detection seemed to glitch when I’d tried to check her out. She’s incredibly beautiful but for some reason, she seemed bent on working for me despite the pittance I’d offered her. Could she be one of Khphor’s people? Or is she one of yours?”

  “Not one of mine, definitely. I don’t have the same objectives or authority as he has. What’s her name?”

  “Anastasia Semyonova, age 24.”

  “Anything else?”

&n
bsp; “Social status level 3.”

  He shrugged. “Not enough information. I don’t know anyone of this name. Did you get her name off the interface?”

  “Yes.”

  “Sorry, can’t help you. Are we done now?”

  I nodded.

  “Okay. Well, good luck, Phil! You know what I mean?”

  “Perfectly, Sir.”

  “Good. You’re gonna need every bit of luck you can get.”

  The moment he left, the pool area emptied apart from the fat guys in the hot tub, the waitress and a couple of life guards pacing the side of the pool.

  In all the time of my talking to him, my Lie Detection hadn’t made me chilly in the slightest. Did that mean that Valiadis had been open with me? Possible. Unless he had some kind of antiskill activated.

  It was high time I got going, too. My working day was already half gone and I still had to speak to Veronica, Kesha and Mr. Katz.

  I decided to take a quick shower after the sauna. I opened the water and started lathering my hair under the tepid jets.

  Suddenly I was scalded by a gush of boiling-hot water. I cussed, recoiling. My foot lost grip on the slippery tiles, sending me flying as I tried to tuck up in order to land on my shoulder. I collapsed sideways on the floor, hitting my head hard against the shower wall.

  The program flooded me with damage messages. My eyes stung with the shampoo. My ears were ringing.

  Instead of climbing back to my feet, I sat up, reached for the shower jets — which were already back at their normal temperature — and rinsed my eyes. I mentally traced the trajectory of my fall, realizing how incredibly lucky I’d been. One inch more to the side and I’d have been whisked away in an ambulance. Defying all the laws of physics and gravity, the sharp end of one of the tiles had come away from the wall so that I could have very easily cracked my head open on it.