I finished with my heart aflutter, awaiting a reaction. I figured General Ui-Taka could have very serious objections. After all, the Dark Faction had a serious advantage when combat ended and could have laid claim to more. But the huge muscular Strategist unexpectedly agreed:
“I accept, Leng Gnat! I told you, you’re negotiating with yourself! The participants in the conflict are already disengaged. We now know that no matter how long this war goes on, neither side can fully destroy the other. And it seems that you are putting yourself forward for the role of humanity’s future Kung. What can I say? It would be an interesting outcome. Now I need to get all that across to the others. Then, when the formalities are over, we can move on to truly serious matters!”
* * *
“And what? You just up and agreed, just like that?” The faction Journalist couldn’t believe the most important negotiations in the world were already over before they even got started.
“Yeah, right away. I mean, go ahead and write that we shouted until we got hoarse to keep the faction happy, of course. Say we just about killed each other fighting for more favorable conditions. But the reality is that the Dark Faction has just as little desire for a war of elimination as the Human-3 Faction.”
I considered the explanation completely sufficient and, lowering my sunglasses, sat back blissfully in a folding lounger, planning to enjoy the bright sun and pleasant sea breeze. However, Lydia Vertyachikh didn’t think the conversation was over. She even puffed out her cheeks in offense:
“Gnat, I cannot understand. What did I say? I don’t think I’ve ever given you a reason to treat me the way you do. But you didn’t want to take me to the negotiations, and now you’re batting me off like some troublesome fly. Do you treat all journalists this way? Or just me?”
A tricky way of posing the question. Any short answer, either yes or no, would put me into an awkward position. So I had to go into detail:
“Lydia, I treat all journalists with decency, as I am treating you right now. What’s more, in some measure I’m even somewhat grateful for your delicacy when it comes to Gerd Tamara. I was afraid that you were going to impose on the leader of the Second Legion with questions about her losing the expensive armor suit, her imprisonment and torture like the kind of reporter that swarms around any tragedy. I’m happy I was wrong.”
“Then why are you acting so difficult?” the Journalist wouldn’t let up.
No, with her around, I couldn’t afford to let my guard down, concentrate on the bright sun, and enjoy the rare moment of relaxation. I stored my glasses in my inventory and, getting up, gestured broadly at the happy players, relaxing without a care:
“Look at them. Do you know the difference between you and everyone else on this peaceful green field?”
Lydia just shrugged, not knowing the answer.
“Good, let me tell you then. All these players, no matter what race they belong to, are members of my crew or loyal subjects of my family. The Geckho and Miyelonians, the Jarg and even the Dark Faction people will do whatever I order and follow me through fire and water. Except General Ui-Taka perhaps. He does not answer to me. But the General is bending over backwards to make sure there is a good relationship between me and the new La-Taka Faction. And now the Strategist has fulfilled his previous obligations and will leave the La-Fin Faction to join it very soon. And on the backdrop of this team of like-minded associates there is you, sent on an order from Ivan Lozovsky to spy on us and maybe dig up some blackmail material if possible. Yes, yes. Don’t deny it. I read it in your thoughts. And I’m not the only one who could have.”
“Yes, you be think too loud,” Minn-O La-Fin walked up to us smiling with a glass of apple juice in her hand, unashamed to demonstrate that she was eavesdropping. “Journalist is many worry that no will be bad material for director Ivan. And now that we is conversation, tell your boss I is change mind! No is want now H3 Faction. Now am head of La-Fin Faction, my home. And they promise to fix me virt pod soon!”
Princess Minn-O was in an exceptionally good mood. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen my wife looking so happy before. When I suggested she head the La-Fin Faction, my wayedda was enthusiastic and delighted. Minn-O, a representative of a most ancient dynasty of mage rulers, who considered herself lesser for many years due to a lack of magical abilities, had a new lease on life. Now that she had Magic Points, she was vibrant, intense and proper. And still, I remained legal head of House La-Fin and leader of the First Directory. The Dark Faction players had confirmed me in that role. Having a mage wife only strengthened my authority as mage ruler, but she didn’t eclipse me as dynasty head.
“I is happy today! Is want dancing!” The Princess’s words confirmed my own observation.
“Then why are you drinking juice instead of wine?” I chuckled and a strange shadow ran over her face. I couldn’t understand what she was thinking. Was she afraid? Trying to hide something?
“I just want to keep my clarity of mind on a day like today.”
With a quick kiss on my cheek, Minn-O turned around and hurried to the set tables, around which they were still celebrating the peace treaty. And Miyelonians and Geckho were taking part in the fun just as much as the people although I strongly suspect that most of my crew had no idea who was even at war on this planet, or what groups had just made peace.
Somewhat strange. Minn-O’s behavior surprised me. Completely in spite of myself I tried to read my wayedda’s thoughts and feelings. I must admit, it had become habit. I’d done so a few times before to better understand my wife. But this time it didn’t work. Beyond that, the Princess’s voice appeared in my head:
“Husband, you shouldn’t do that! A woman must always have her secrets.”
I didn’t try to read my wife again, and turned to the Journalist standing next to me.
“It’s hard to live when every other person is reading your thoughts like an open book...” Lydia noted, implying her case, but she completely randomly guessed at what had just happened between Minn-O and I.
Meanwhile, if the Journalist was embarrassed to have her private thoughts read, it wasn’t for long. She even tried to go on the attack and cast aspersions:
“Kirill, when you said that only your subjects were gathered here, you were clearly exaggerating. At the very least Major Filippov does not belong to your team.”
Authority reduced to 59!
I gritted my teeth in annoyance. How dare she cast a Leng’s words into doubt?! Every day I had a better understanding of high-profile players who killed without warning for Authority drops. In fact, the more effort I expended, the more I realized this number was very hard to improve. Every time a common player disputed something I said, a few days’ work went to down the drain! Should I shoot the Journalist or something? To teach her the game rules? Once upon a time that helped me, although it took me a while to appreciate the value of Gerd Tamara’s lessons.
The small Relict guard drone, sensing my mood, came down further and focusing its innumerable data readers, locators and mobile video cameras on Lydia Vertyachikh, studying the suspicious being that had upset its master.
“No, please don’t kill her!” I stopped my mechanical guard. “She is simply a fool, there’s no treating it.”
The drone lost all interest in Lydia and, obediently flying upward, got distracted by a seagull and followed it to some distant cliffs.
“So now I’m a fool all of a sudden?” the Journalist couldn’t understand, also following the now distant drone with her gaze.
“Well because you’re arguing with a Leng, which goes against the mechanics of the game that bends reality, and for that you should be killed. Yes, yes. I will forgive you, but just this once. Not least of all because you’re the very last to hear the news, which is strange for a Journalist. But while flying in the antigrav, Major Filippov asked to join the crew of my Tolili-Ukh X frigate and was even hired to be the Jarg Analyst’s assistant. Everyone but you already knows.”
“How was I supposed to
know?! You were speaking a language I don’t know!”
I laughed happily, her justification seeming so ill-founded:
“Lydia, he’s a level-18 Bard who just got into the game. Still he found time to study the language of the suzerains. Yes, his vocabulary is pitiful for now and his grammar makes them smile. His accent also gives him away for a native of Ryazan, not the planet of Shikharsa. But at least Major Filippov is trying! You’re a level-53 Journalist, the one-time faction record-holder for levelling speed. You’ve been in the game almost as long as me. But you stopped growing a long time ago! Who were you even planning to talk to at these negotiations if you don’t know the Dark Faction language, or Miyelonian or Geckho?”
Again the Journalist’s abashment lasted just a brief moment, then she found a way out:
“Well, for example, what I’m doing now. Or with a new member of your team. By the way, where is he? For some reason I can’t see the Bard in the clearing.”
I turned and also furrowed my brow in thought. Major Filippov really was nowhere to be seen in the small clearing. By the way... someone else was also missing. I studied the crowd. Exactly! We were also missing Valeri the Beast Master. Did they go into the forest together? Weird of course, but anything was possible. Still better to check.
Scanning skill increased to level forty-five!
There they were! In fact, both AWOL players’ markers were together, but not in the forest. Valeri-Urla and Major Filippov were standing on rocks at the very edge of the surf. And next to them... my heart fluttered in panic because there were at least fifty red markers around my friends on the mini-map. That meant enemies. Naiads!!!
But that wasn’t all I noticed. Next to Minn-O... and to be even more accurate inside her there was one more creature, reflected on my mini-map as:
Human. Level-0 Psionic Mage.
Chapter Twenty. Woe is Sea…
I JUST FROZE at the shocking news. My wife was expecting a child! How about that!!! And Minn-O was already pregnant when she was killed and respawned! Like ants in an agitated colony, thousands of thoughts ran through my head simultaneously. And most important was how to transfer a child from the virtual game into the real world? Minn-O once said it was possible. At the very least Coruler Thumor-Anhu La-Fin supposedly knew a way.
“What’s the matter Kirill, can’t keep track of your underlings?” the Journalist’s acrid voice rang out behind me, jerking me from my thinking.
Authority reduced to 58!
No, she just never learned! I didn’t even turn around, already knowing perfectly that the girl’s lifeless body was falling to the floor behind me, her heart stopped cold. I hoped at our next encounter Lydia would learn to show respect to a Leng!
Psionic skill increased to level eighty-seven!
Mysticism skill increased to level thirty-six!
I heard shouts of fear. Everyone saw Lydia Vertyachikh dying at the same time. Meanwhile, no one stopped me or asked any questions, and most importantly didn’t judge me. There was one upside to being high-profile. As a Gerd and all the more so a Leng, if I did something, that meant it was my right!
I walked up to the edge of the precipice, expecting to see anything: the Beast Master and Bard fighting off Naiads with the last of their strength, a pair of broken bodies. But the picture before me then was simply idyllic: Major Filippov was enjoying himself fishing with a spinning rod. And he was doing pretty well for himself. On the stringer tied to the fisherman’s belt I could already see four medium-sized salmon. Valeri-Urla then, like a mermaid from an old tale, was sitting on a huge rock with her legs dangling down, sometimes lapped by the surf.
But where were the Naiads? I zoomed in the mini-map. The red hostile NPC markers were still there and very nearby, but underwater. Risking breaking my legs on the crumbly steep slope, I started down toward the water and at the same time called my drone just in case. Hearing the sound of rolling rocks, Valeri-Urla turned to me:
“Gnat, just be careful not to spook them!”
There wasn’t even a shade of fear in the Beastmaster’s voice. It was more like annoyance that I was bothering her. As for “them,” she meant the undersea creatures. I realized that instantly. So that meant my companion knew perfectly about the danger lurking beneath the waves? I asked that aloud.
“Captain, you are wrong there! Naiads are not dangerous if you don’t harm them first. They told me that themselves. They have a very particular way of thinking. This is the first time I’ve seen such a thing. There are only two categories for classifying strangers who are not part of their underwater species: ‘food’ and ‘do not contact.’ And they have a photographic memory shared by the whole school. They remember everyone who ever harmed any of them. Anyone who does gets added to their ‘food’ category, and can never be moved back out.”
By then I had already reached the water and was standing on a stone behind the alien girl. Instantly all the red markers on my mini-map changed to a neutral yellow shade.
“They changed to neutral. Your work?” I asked.
“No. I didn’t tell them anything about you. The Naiads just came to the conclusion they had never seen you before.”
Interesting. Very interesting. But then why did the caged Naiad kill Ivan Lozovsky right away before even giving the Diplomat the chance to establish contact? Valeri-Urla the Beastmaster immediately gave a totally plausible explanation for that also:
“Your former leader must have shown the Naiad a connection with someone who caused it pain and suffering. Maybe he gave a warm greeting to the players who captured it. Maybe he was just talking with or smiling at them. Also, the caged Naiad was starting to dry out, but its pain was just entertaining to those land-lubbers. So as soon as the captive got the chance, it killed its tormenter. And after that, all further attempts to establish contact were doomed to failure. Both with the still captive individual and its whole race. To all of them, the human Diplomat is now food, and you don’t talk to food!”
I fell silent, thinking over the situation in the coastal waters around my island. The Miyelonians and Geckho were neutral to the Naiads. I wasn’t sure about the Dark Faction people, but as for the Human-3 members, only Lydia Vertyachikh had ever been on the front lines of that war. The Journalist gave a report there and even held a gun in her own hands. Good thing I sent her to respawn!
“Is it possible to get the Naiads from neutral to friendly?” I asked the Beastmaster her expert opinion.
The huge-eyed girl turned and looked at me with a smile:
“Very good question, Leng Gnat. You think the very same way as me. But no, these ones cannot. They are simple everyday NPC’s, very limited in their authority to make important decisions. Their leaders handle diplomatic negotiations, and one has already been sent for.”
“Damn! Did you see that?! The one that got away was a lunker!!! I got it all the way up to shore and it jerked and stole my lure!” the Bard, five steps away, had a very emotional reaction to losing a fish.
By the way, Major Filippov’s level had already hit 22! Not bad for less than an hour of fishing! I heard the game had suggested the career soldier an alternative profession as a Fisher, and clearly he had a knack for it.
“I was the one who asked Vasily to come here and fish,” Valeri-Urla suddenly told me. “We needed to catch the Naiads’ attention to get them closer to shore.”
“Woah, holy crap!” the Bard, crouched down to tie on a new jig, took a step back in fear and even fell back on his ass when just one yard away a waist-high scaled creature with fish-like immobile eyes rose up out of the water.
Using its webbed hands, the Naiad lowered its trident in silence and pulled down a three-foot-long fish, setting it before Major Filippov. In its toothy maw, I could make out a bright yellow and blue lure with a bit of torn off line. Then, as silently as it arrived, the undersea native went under the water and dissolved in the depths of the sea. The Beastmaster commented on the entertaining episode:
“There’s your answer ab
out whether Naiads can be friendly. They want to be friends with people and do everything they can to butter you up. By the way, I’m gonna go for a swim. You coming, captain?”
The space girl, burned bronze, hopped off the wet wave-kissed boulder, scrambled up a bit higher, farther from the tide line and got undressed, unashamed and carefully folding her things on the stone. I lowered my eyes in embarrassment even though the naked extraterrestrial had a very attractive figure to my eye. All I didn’t know was why Valeri-Urla wouldn’t put her clothes in her inventory. Either the extra weight stopped her from swimming or she was just acting on an old real-world habit. Or was she teasing me?
Her hands extended, without the slightest splash, she entered the water head first. When she popped back up, she was already fifty feet from shore. Pushing the hair out of her eyes, Valeri-Urla laughed happily:
“How nice! You coming, Leng Gnat? It’s hot out, the water is just so refreshing!”
At the same time as she said that out loud, she sent another message mentally just for me:
“Don’t disappoint me, Captain! Confirm your reputation as a fearless adventure lover whose impressive feats are discussed the Universe over! Or are you afraid of the Naiads? Maybe you’re just afraid of me?”
Damn! Damn! What an uncomfortable situation! Maybe she was just happy to be refreshed, but I remembered the game rules clearly: no Swimming skill meant you’d sink like a stone. And my Gnat didn’t have that skill. I mean, I was a Listener at the end of the day, a mage specialized in controlling machines, not some marine or diver! Seemingly I had another Authority drop coming my way, third in a row...
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