by Arthur Stone
“I have some things I’ve saved up.”
“And you dug into your little nest egg for my sake?”
“I’m not that much in love with you, Cheat. Remember: everything I do for you and for the others is in my best interest.”
“I understand what brought me here. Your promises. But what attracted all of them? Why are they ready to follow you to certain death? I’ve talked with a few of them, and it’s clear that most or all of us will die, yet still there was hope in their eyes. Hope in you. Is there something I’m missing here?”
“Like you said, you’re particularly good at missing things. Wait for the others to arrive so I can speak with all of you. Else I’d be repeating myself, and I hate doing that. Oh, by the way, go say hi to your girlfriend. She’s here.”
Cheater’s heart skipped a beat or three, but as he turned, he realized March was not referring to Kitty.
Ensuring his face betrayed neither excitement nor disappointment, he completed his rotation and nodded to Titty Tat.
“Hi. I didn’t know you were here.”
“I was hesitant to write you.”
“You? Hesitant?”
“We’re not exactly the best of friends, Cheater. Hesitation is prudent.”
“Look, if you ever need anything, you can write. I don’t bite. Why do you need to get across the border? Life getting too boring here?”
“No. I need loot and bonuses, just like everyone else.”
“You might just end up with problems and pains.”
“I have enough of those already, thanks to you.”
Cheater clenched his teeth. “What do you mean?”
“I tried to cover for you, back at Pyramid. The Spiders don’t forget so easily.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, of course, but I never asked you to help me.”
“I don’t hold it against you.”
“Well, are you two going to stand in front of me like this or move aside and let me talk to everyone?” March bothered.
Cheater remained silent. After all, based on what March had just told him, he expected real answers to his questions to be embedded in the speech that was about to happen.
Usually, people talk too much when they’re nervous.
But Cheater knew how to listen.
Probably.
Chapter 3
Life Seven. The Scandal, or, A Company of Fools
He knew how to watch, too. He had already counted eleven people and assumed a twelfth was up on the roof, watching. A few of the words March exchanged with the quasi sufficed to inform Cheater that some powerful sensor held the post, a man by whom no mouse could ever hope to slip.
When it came to his specializations in alcohol and laziness, March had not changed. Turning around on the box he was using as a chair, he took a solid sip from the can and hurriedly whispered in Tat’s direction. “Hey, lovebirds, would you mind breaking it off for a minute?”
Cheater pulled away. “I’m all ears!”
“Listen up, then. All of us gathered here share a common interest. We want to move east. Some just want to see new places. Others are being hunted and looking for escape. Still others want to taste the sweetest gifts the System has to offer. All good reasons. And I had good reasons for keeping certain details from you until the proper time. Roach, what do you think? Why did I keep my secrets?”
The voice of the red-haired man who had been making a move at Tat wavered with uncertainty. “Maybe you were afraid someone would snitch. I bet half of the folks here have trouble with the Spiders. Maybe all of them. The gang would pay a decent reward for their heads.”
“Look at that, even Roach knows what’s up. Some immunes are very much convinced that the Continent is but a game, one whose rules we only know in part. Like in any game, players band together in clans to defend their shared interests. Some clans are puny. Small in number, weak in strength. Some clans pose a threat, but not an insurmountable one. Yet there are some so strong that anyone with half a brain flees, not fights. The Spiders are among this last group.”
Cheater’s mouth nearly gaped. He had never seen March speak with such clarity and purpose.
The orator continued. “Over the last year, the Spiders have dug their heels into this region and even taken root in those regions around it. They are intent on expanding to a global reach. Anyone in their way will be killed if they do not run or submit. Some of you, or even all of you, if Roach is correct, have chosen to flee. So flee we will. Any questions? Keep them short and to the point. Come on, Roach, I can tell you’re itching to ask something.”
“There’s something I don’t get, March. You didn’t add us to a party, but I can see almost everyone’s level. Half of us are level 30 or under. Tat’s level 23, and this noob is only level 21. I thought I would be the weakest one here at level 33, but I’m one of the strongest. What gives?”
“You just said ‘I’ half a dozen times, Roach. Stop thinking about no one but yourself. There’s more to winning than levels.”
“Really? What else is there? Who the hell are you, anyway? Have you ever seen a border in your life?”
“I’ve seen it, touched it, smelled it, from all directions. You’re here, aren’t you? You know who I am!”
“You’re right. Well, sort of. I’ve heard all kinds of rumors about you, but nothing definite.”
“You’ll have to make do with the rumors. Saracen, you had a question?”
The black-haired man of about thirty gestured vigorously as he spoke. “What’s our plan? What road are we taking?”
“Do you know the local geography well?”
“If we’re planning to go due east, then no. No one knows the geography that way. No group has ever crossed via this road, and there are no maps. It’s a terrible place, a mysterious place. Six months ago, some traders tried to forge a new path through that very stretch of land. They had a whole convoy with decent armor, even some repellers. And they didn’t even get within sight of the border. The Spiders raised taxes in every stable east of Chain Lake to cover the losses.”
“That sounds like the way. The land where formidable armored convoys disappear mysteriously.”
“Mysteriously?” Fatso chuckled. “I wouldn’t put it that way. We all know what happened. They got shuttled off to respawn, one after another. Attacked from all sides. Mighty infecteds, atomites, even evil spirits towards the end there. The caravan was pressed so that even the drones were downed in an instant. Endless assaults from left, right, before, and behind, in the midst of utter darkness, with no respite.”
Roach got up and shook his head. “You all do what you want. I’m out.”
“Go on, then,” Physic snorted. “I guess it’s true what they say about redheads.”
“What did you say?” Roach snapped.
“That is, if you leave without at least hearing this through to the end. Why do you think we all want to go with March? Why aren’t we out there looking for other options right now?”
“Because you’re idiots. You’ve been around him less than I have. You just got here!”
“At least I have some qualities which are not synonymous with cowardice. Why didn’t you join the traders, then, Roach? They’ve got this trip figured out. Pay the fee and you’ll make it across, if things go as usual.”
“Sometimes things don’t go ‘as usual,’” Roach hit back.
Physic nodded. “Sure. But more often than not they protect passengers at all costs. They have a reputation to maintain, you know. So why are you here, and not there?”
“The System hates easy border crossings. It only awards puny bonuses in exchange. And where would I get the money? Do I look like a rich snob to you? Even a level 33 would have to work hard for six months straight to afford the cost of one passage.”
“Aha, you’ve got it. The harder the crossing, the more bonuses the System gives you. That’s why you’re here. You were looking for a team that would take the hard way across. The dangerous road. Well you found it. And now you
’re having second thoughts.”
“I didn’t sign up to cross the border with a bunch of noobs.”
“That pumps up the difficulty even more. The System will give you more bonuses and loot then you could ever dream of.”
“If I get across the border. A whole convoy couldn’t get across this way, and you’re planning to cut through with a posse of rookies? You’re sick in the head!”
“Then make sure you close the door on your way out. March, he didn’t know the details here. He won’t talk.”
“I will allow anyone who wishes to leave,” March replied calmly as he opened his third can of beer since the start of the speech.
Roach grinned. “I’m the only decent repeller on this team. You need me.”
“You think that convoy didn’t have a repeller? They had two, if not more. And they never made it. So go on, and we’ll figure it out without you.”
Roach was in no hurry. “March, you put this team together in a matter of days. This is the first time I’ve ever heard of a bunch of players from all kinds of stables coming out to join forces with some random no one knows. Very strange. You know what, I don’t even know how you found me.”
“Oh, I just Googled ‘morons,’ and you were the first hit. Go if you want. Or sit down and hear me out. Any more questions? Fatso?”
“We know next to nothing about you, March. Sure, the rumors we’ve heard are compelling. But which of them are true? No way of telling. I think everyone here has two primary questions: first, who are you? And second, what gives you such confidence you’ll get us across?”
“Not ‘us.’”
“What?”
“Some of us will not make it to the finish line. This is the Continent. Nothing is ever guaranteed. In fact, perhaps none of us will make it. Even well-known border crossings undertaken by well-armored convoys are not a sure thing. But I have obtained some information from the members of the caravan that failed to make it. I spoke with them directly, in fact. Five liters of beer will really loosen a person’s tongue, I’ll tell you. Especially when you add a little extra vodka in there.”
Roach was skeptical. “So you know some secret that no one else does?”
“Is that what you think? How could I get a secret no one else knows out of a whole caravan? How much beer would that take?”
“Yeah, I don’t get it. If you got them drunk and talking, by the next day the whole town would know.”
“Well, all you need to know is that I’ll be leading the way, and deciding how we take it. We’ll go due east from here, until we reach the pass in the steppe, helpfully named Steppe Pass. Then we’ll cut through the “Pouch” and emerge in the border zone. Then, perhaps, some of us will make it across. As for who I am... I’m March, and I’m a good chap. That should suffice. Good chaps attract crowds, and that’s exactly what happened here.”
“Why do you need so many of us with you if you’re so sure you’ll get across?” This time, the voice belonged to a short black girl sitting in a corner.
“I don’t know how much you know about prison culture in the old world, Button. I mean the old old world. Prisons in places like Siberia. But the most thoughtful escapees always added a weaker prisoner to their band. A fatter prisoner. Then, when the group got hungry along the way, their numbers dropped by only one. Everyone else got a significant Stamina boost, shall we say.”
“So I’m guessing you picked Fatso because... well, not because you had met him in person.”
“Hah, you don’t think I’m planning to eat you all, do I?”
The girl pointed at the quasi. “I know who that is. And if you try anything, I’d bet my arm he eats you instead.”
“Jury’s still out on that. But let me explain, Button. The road ahead is a long and hard one. From time to time we will likely encounter some unpleasant situations. It may so happen that we need to split into several groups, in the hopes that our pursuers will follow just one group, and the others will make it through. Or what will I do if I suffer some sort of serious injury? Alone that would mean certain death. This land has so many infecteds that a wounded man cannot hope to hide for long. It’s dangerous to go alone. Even for me.”
Roach jabbed his finger at the quasi. “Girl, who’s the quasi? You said you know him. Can you see his nick?”
“No. His Stealth is too high. I don’t see his level, either. But I know he’s the one they call the Janitor.”
Fatso whistled and gestured respectfully, doffing an imaginary hat.
But the news did nothing for Roach. “Janitor? Who’s that?”
Button gasped softly. “You’ve never heard of the Janitor? He killed a raffler on his first day here. Killed it with a broom. It was a mature raffler, too, nearly a trampler. Earned him his name.”
Roach shook his head. “Never heard of him.”
The quasi’s normal speaking volume still made the boxes shake. “For all of you who know who I am, know this: March has made a deal with me to escort him to the border. I know March, and I believe he will make it. I’m not so sure about the rest of you, but I’d bet every last spore on him.”
Roach blinked. “Am I the only one here who’s never heard of the Janitor? Let’s see a show of hands. Who knows this quasi?”
A forest of hands rose into the air. Only Cheater and a couple of others kept theirs down.
“Is he as good as they say?”
“He’s so good that you’re not worthy enough to kiss his ass,” Physic replied. “Looks like a good squad to me. But I still don’t understand why we’re cutting through the Pass. The area beyond isn’t called the Spider’s Pouch for nothing. There’s a stable there full of the gangsters. They control the whole area, including several quick clusters that supply them with nearly limitless ammo. If Georgy or I catch the eye of the Spiders, we’re done for. I bet we’re not the only ones.”
Saracen nodded. “I’ve been on those jackasses’ blacklist for nearly a month now. Bastards have already killed me three times now. There’s no life for me here. I will find better land to the south.”
March nodded. “We won’t wait around for them to catch us in their web. We’re just cutting through. If anyone stands in our way, we’ll deal with them. We’ll avoid the stable, and their forces outside of it are not too hard to handle.”
“We’re a bunch of noobs! If we encounter one solid pair of Spiders, they could mess us up,” Roach muttered.
“Ah, Roach! I thought you had left already. Changed your mind?”
“I don’t mind losing a life or two. I want to see what happens. I bet we won’t even reach the border territory, never mind the border itself. The Pass is narrow, and the Spiders patrol it constantly.”
“That’s why we have the Janitor.” March popped the tab on a new can. “The challenge for us here is the border, not the Spiders. But I can see that everyone else here is aware of that.”
“Is he really that good?”
“Better,” the quasi replied.
“Fine, I’m convinced. I’ll come. Mostly because this is the most hodgepodge team I’ve ever seen. A crowd of dumb noobs, an arrogant quasi hireling, and an inscrutable leader whose veins run with beer in the place of blood. And they decide to go right through the Spiders’ web instead of around it! At least it won’t be boring, that’s for sure.”
“Alright,” March crushed his empty beer can, “I’m done talking with you fools. Cheat, accept them into the party, one at a time. Once you’re done, head up top and add Hamster, too.”
“Why is the noob inviting us to the party?” Roach again.
“Because I said so,” March scowled. “We’ll spend the night here. Rise and shine one hour before dawn, then we pack up and drive out. If you want to get a good night’s rest, I suggest you start immediately. The Janitor will set the watch. Listen to him as you would me. And by ‘listen,’ I mean none of you will make one single complaint in his hearing. He’s fidgety, you see, and prone to impulsive acts of violence. So don’t be getting any ideas.
”
“Who is this Kitty character in our party?” Button asked.
She sure is curious. Mere seconds after joining the party, she had found Kitty. Not that Kitty’s name was hidden, but it took a little looking to find.
March tossed another crumpled can into the corner and mocked. “Cheater, I’ll let you explain that one. That’s your business. An idiotic business, but yours.”
Cheater had spent hours arguing with March about why this girl in his party was so dear to him. She was so far away now that she might as well be on the Moon, if not farther, and they were unable to pass any news between them. Yet she stayed in his party. His intense desire to reach her had inevitably come up with each conversation, as well.
So what should he say? These players had been on the Continent for quite some time. They wouldn’t even understand enough to laugh at him.
“Party Leader” was more than just a name, too. The leader was displayed with a bright dot and eye-catching arrow on the map, much brighter than all of the other markings. Players could customize the map and set up similar indicators of any color they liked for any party member. But that took some time, and spending time customizing a map was usually an unwise idea in a world that could kill you at any instant. Suppose a comrade was injured in battle and managed to get a message off in the chat before she fell unconscious. No one would have any idea where she was, and by the time they got their maps set up, she would probably have bled out twice over or been wholly consumed by low-level undead.
That had almost happened to Cheater once.
A team’s leader was its most important player. He must always be visible, in all situations. Placing the bright arrow on the lowest-level team member was the worst decision when it came to the squad’s common interest.