“We have comms!” I heard from the next room over. The cloth partitions didn't do much to maintain confidentiality. But what shocked me was that the troops weren’t isolated — they had access to satellites, otherwise they wouldn't have been able to get in touch with the ships.
“Put it on speaker,” the guy in charge said. A surprised voice piped up.
“I’m sorry, who is this?”
“Chaban. Tell me your name.”
“Gen — ... General Chaban?” came the stuttered answer from the ship. “Senior Warrant Officer Lepko!”
“Okay, Senior Warrant Officer, put me through to your captain.”
“Right away, General!”
I looked over at Chaban in surprise. Even in my old pacifist life, I’d heard of him. He was a legend shrouded in mystery’, someone who’d been involved in every armed conflict over the previous decade. A mercenary with his own small army, most contract fighters dreamed of joining him. Not only that, but he was a criminal who killed without fear or reproach if anyone got in his way. What surprised me most, however, was that he was a foreign national. Untold documentaries had been filmed about him, and the main conclusion I’d drawn was that he didn’t speak my language. At all.
But in that moment, I understood him. And he understood me. Our conversation was going so smoothly, it was like it was a native tongue for both of us. Am I missing something?
“Captain Levashov. Who is this?”
“My name is Chaban.”
“Good try. Chaban makes a point of only speaking Albanian.”
“That’s what I’m speaking now — the fact that everyone can understand each other isn’t my problem. But I have someone here named Mark Derwin. He told us quite the tale, and I need confirmation.”
“Do you have satellite access?”
“In a second. Which satellite?” Chaban replied, having checked a tablet first.
“RS-445. We have it in position.”
“What’s that?” Chaban was apparently getting the feed — he had a great tech department.
“The dome covering the location with the main bastard,” Levashov replied. “Mark’s assignment is to get rid of it, after which we’ll take a shot at the button he should have with him.”
“Confirmed, he did. Why didn’t you try to take the dome out yourself?”
“We did. Spent half our missiles, didn’t do a thing.”
Of course, the conversation was to the point, and I was able to glean some important points.
“So, you sent Mark here to get help?”
“I’m not involved in how he’s trying to get the job done. My objective is to take out the target as soon as the button is pressed.”
“What if we cover him with an Iskander?”
“You have a system? Go for it. I don’t have that kind of weaponry.”
“If I need to, I’ll find one,” Chaban replied. “And a real one, not from the game. I just need the button parameters so I can keep an eye on it and provide insurance in case something happens to you.”
“Well send them,” Levashov said after a moment. There was no mention of confidentiality7 or protecting government interests. All that mattered was making sure humanity survived.
“Got it. How many of you are there?”
“Three ships. I don't know about other fleets, though some presumably survived. But we were the only ones with five nuclear subs out on a mission.”
“Give us an hour. Ill clear things up with Mark, and then well get in touch to coordinate our next moves. Time to get the planet back,” Chaban said before signing off. I remained standing at attention, unsure what to do. From what I could tell, they weren’t going to kill me. But are they going to help? That was the question.
“You're going to have to respawm Villian here,” Chaban said. “I won’t let you take the relic out of this location.”
“Why not?” I couldn’t help asking a silly question. The group looked
at me as though I had two heads.
“If it disappears, well disappear along with it,” the general replied. “As long as it’s here, well stick around. Does that make sense?”
“If I respawn Villian here, it’ll die. Immediately. The dungeon is only for people.”
“Who told you that? Want to see our zoo? The aliens tossed in everyone and the kitchen sink before they realized they couldn’t beat us. Only a human can collect the relic, but anyone can come in. Follow me. If I understood you correctly, time is of the essence, and we need to speak with the survivors, too. Bring him a tactical outfit.”
The general's order wasn’t challenged, though one of his subordinates did ask a question.
“What does he need it for?”
“To survive. Our outfits are from the real world, so the game can’t interact with them or calculate damage. No matter how many opponents they throw at him or what weapons they use, only the dragon will be able to hurt him.”
My jaw dropped. Sweet mother why didn't I think of that? Why hadn’t I grabbed some clothes on the ship? It wasn’t just good protection; it was absolute armor that laughed in the face of the game. How was Chaban able to figure things out faster than me when I’ve been in the
game for two months?
My feeling of superiority over the rest of humanity evaporated and threatened never to return. In my short time in the dungeon, I'd already had my lunch taken multiple times, and I was starting to feel embarrassed by my own helplessness.
The tactical outfit covered my body completely even if it didn’t offer a hermetic seal. Quickly pulling it out, I nearly fell over — it was absurdly heav>7. Moving around was a challenge, so I hovered a few centimeters off the ground and asked the troops to pull me over to the relic. That was much easier, and we were at the bottom of the small mound just a couple minutes later.
“Do you know how to use it?”
“Rub it and wait for the genie to pop out,” I replied sarcastically. The lamp looked too stereotypical to answer with anything but sarcasm.
“Okay, get to it.” Chaban was as calm as ever. “Everyone, get ready — we’re about to have an alien show up, and a powerful one, too.”
Somehow clambering up to the top, I was already regretting letting the troops stick me in the armor — sweat poured off me. It was even coming from spots where I didn’t think I had sweat glands. How does the army not die off in these things? Grabbing the lamp, I thought angrily about the green-skinned mercenary. Okay, Villian, where are you? Break time is over!
You’re trying to resurrect Villian Po.
Note that resurrecting the player will remove the penalties placed on it. Please confirm.
Whatever, it’s fine. Bring it back already.
You used the Last Chance relic. Charges remaining: 4.
Weapons cocked, and I looked over from the lamp to the mist taking form a few steps away from me. The game was showing that it wasn’t completely powerless down there. How is it getting nanoparticles in the middle of reality? But however it was happening, it was still happening.
“Resurrected by Mark Derwin?” I heard a painfully familiar voice say. “You beat the dungeon and pulled me out of my penalties? Ah-ha, the local fighters, Lirkun didn’t do its job... Well, then... So, you want to find out how to kill the owner. You came to the right creature — all we have to do is agree on a price.”
The green alien wasn’t the least bit bothered by the fact that it was in the middle of an entire army of humans. Smiling, it glanced over at me, completely in charge of the situation. That’s fine. We’ll see what kind of tune you’re singing once you have a chat with Chaban. I was completely confident the general would bring the hammer down on the mercenary.
Chapter 24
THERE WAS a heated discussion going on in Chaban’s tent. Villian, its face an implacable mask, was shattering the illusions the people had about their world, throwing out facts that were making their hair stand on end. Mine, too.
“Changed? Us?!” The general’s cool had betray
ed him, and he brought a fist crashing down on the table.
“You’re surprised?” While the mercenary’s green face had no eyebrows, there wasn’t a doubt it was enjoying the moment. “Have you looked in a mirror recently? You’re all a bunch of peas in a pod — the same build, the same appearance, even the same height. And it’s all averaged out. Do I even need to mention how you can understand each other even though you were gathered from all around the wrorld? If I remember the instructions for the release correctly, you speak different languages here. But you still think the game hasn’t touched you? Wake up, General — you strike me as someone capable of grasping what’s going on.”
It was unpleasant to admit, but Villian was on to something. The troops really did look like brothers. Back on the ship, it had been the same, and I hadn’t been able to figure out why everyone in the military looked alike. They were all resolute, square-jawed, powerful. As it turned out, there was a reason for that.
“You're already been here for two months. Doesn’t it surprise you that there’s enough oxygen, food, and water in what’s a closed space? Why haven't you needed to work out to stay in shape? Everything is selfrestoring. You’re just as much children of the game as Mark and I are. Even more — we have some degree of freedom that you don’t and never did have.”
“And we won’t get it in the future, will we?” Chavan quickly regained control.
“Not as long as the game is on your planet. As soon as the release wraps up, this location will disappear, and you’ll all go back to your initial positions. I’ll go back to the game.”
“You can’t leave now?” Chaban asked with a frown.
“This location is only for humans. Aliens can’t come or go, so you’re going to have to deal with me until the end of the release.”
“That’s absurd. We have a whole pen full of aliens!”
Chaban handed Villian his tablet, showing it a picture of the prisoners.
“So, that’s w7hat happened... No, General, those aren’t aliens.
They’re humans. Creatures of this planet who went through a change. Originally, the entrance to the dungeon was under my control, and I only sent humans in here. Or, as they’re also called, natural players. The same as in other releases... But now I get why none of them were able to collect the relic. Everyone I sent in turned into those things...”
I craned my neck to see the screen. It showed a bunch of terrifyingly disfigured aliens. Four-armed, green-skinned, gray-skinned...it was a zoo with all shapes and sizes. Villian continued thoughtfully.
“I was always interested to find out how others got the relic. Some were able to, after all... But that’s it — you need a real player, or at least a semi-real player in Mark’s case. An absorber, personified noa, anything, only not one of the creatures who went through the initiation. That’s good to know. I just wish I’d found out sooner.”
“From the way you’re talking, it’s like you’re in control of the situation,” Chaban said, staring at Villian with interest and respect. “Explain.”
“You need me for something. Otherwise, Mark wouldn’t have busted his ass trying to respawm me. And that means wre can come to an agreement. From wiiat I can tell, the release is just about over, and I’m going to die anywTay. But you want to save your planet, winch means you wTant to take out the owner. I know how to do that. Torturing me w7ould be pointless — I turned off my pain receptors five releases ago. So yes, I’m in control of the situation.”
“Do you know how to get rid of this dome?” Chaban pulled up a feed on his tablet.
“Trying to fire something large-scale at it?” Villian asked, shaking its head admiringly. “Not a bad plan. Yes, I know where the power source for the dome is, and you can take it out remotely if you have missiles. But before we continue, I want to talk with Mark. I need to find out what happened in the game while I was gone.”
“I have that information, too.” Chaban didn't want to lose time. “What do you think of this? Your base was cleared out.”
“What?!” Villian said, leaping to its feet and stiffening. Weapons cocked as the troops prepared to take the alien out.
“Tell him,” Chaban said, and I berated myself once again for my loose lips. Who asked me to tell the general about the Tsarter base? He hadn’t needed to know about that little episode, and I'd just been trying to show off how amazing the alien I wanted to respawn was.
As I told the story, I watched blood ooze into Villian’s eyes. It heard it all — about Lirkun, its base, and everything else, including the fact that I’d freed a hexagon. By the time I finished, the creature’s green mug was enraged.
“And you want me to help you?” it exploded, though the general couldn’t have cared less about its emotions.
“If you don’t, you’ll lose everything. You can die here, where the game can’t respawn you because it’ll think you're still alive.”
The guy was a genius. He’d instantly picked up on how World of the Changed worked, accepted the game as a fact of life, and quickly adapted to it. It made sense why everyone wanted to work for him.
“But Mark’s not going to be part of this,” Villian hissed. I’d never seen it so emotional — losing its base apparently really stung. “The win won’t be chalked up to him, so he can leave. And I want the relic. It’ll stay with me, and when the release is over, it’s coming with me.”
“Agreed!” Chaban said quickly. “Send Mark back out into the world. We’ll take out the dragon ourselves.”
That was a low blow. I’d done so much, and I wanted to see for myself how the owner was destroyed, but the troops had decided to do it their way. A few7 of them marched into the tent to escort me out. One of them handed me my pouch.
“Your things.”
Inside, I found the already pointless button, the pistol, three clips, and... That’s it?! The multitool was gone. Apparently, Chaban had taken a liking to it and decided not to give it back. The mercenary leader didn’t pay me the least bit of attention no matter how indignant I got, and a couple moments later I was carried out by a pair of powerful gentlemen. A steel cable was let down — there was a winch, it turned out, right above the passage, so losing the bridges wasn’t such a big deal. Taking advantage of the fact that I was less than mobile in my new armor, the soldiers hooked me up by the belt and sent me soaring upward. The ascent wasn’t too sudden. But when I got to the cave entrance, the shimmering film staring back at me, the winch jerked a few times to let me know it was time to unhook and head out. My visit to the Last Chance dungeon was over.
My stiff legs carried me forward. Frustration coursed through my veins to the point that I just wTanted to get back at someone, make sure either the troops or Villian were worse off because of me. Damn it! I was the one wTho’d brought the alien back, and it had screwed me over.
But I stopped just before getting to the film.
Wait a second.
Really, why did Villian behave like that?
I’d never found it to be especially emotional, and loot w^as just loot. It could find more in the next release. I couldn’t imagine it would have left all his belongings in one place, which meant it had something stashed somewhere else. But why the huge tantrum then? And why was it so willing to help take out the owmer? It had agreed immediately after seeing the picture on the tablet. No, it can’t be! I couldn't imagine the greenskinned beast had decided the dome w7as a decoy or, even worse, that there wras no dragon in the first place. Could it be trying to get the ti'oops to waste their last missiles? My heart raced; my breathing quickened. No, that can't be it. The bastard had said you could get rid of the dome remotely by attacking the remote power source. What if it’s actually, say, the game server that’s located where Villian wants them to strike? Or a switchboard? Some primary point that will throw the whole game mechanics out of whack? I thought back to what Villian stood to gain from that, and it hit me. A reset! It wasn’t letting go of the relic. As soon as the server was down, the system would reset, and the dungeo
n, perhaps, would disappear along with the troops. But everything game-related in it would stick around. Villian and the relic.
“Lets go,” a voice said. There was a soldier standing at the entrance, his weapon pointed at me. “Your orders were to leave the cave. Get going!”
I thought about giving them a warning but ended up biting my tongue. My chance at revenge. There would be time to deal with Villian later, I figured, when it showed back up in the game. It’ll be looking to get its base back. That meant I could work with the balancing force to take the creature out. But in the meantime, I needed to follow orders and step outside.
The shimmering field accepted me and spat me back out the other side a few moments later. I took a step forward and froze. Something was off. My invisibility instantly removed me from view, though that didn’t do much to help. I was only been able to hide half the armor. The rest of the soldiers’ gift refused to disappear, telling everyone where I was. The hovering helmet and running pants presumably made for quite the comical picture.
Still, I peeked out apprehensively. The dungeon was in a small gully, so I had to sweat my way out of it. The real-world armor was in no hurry to weigh any less out in the game. But as I looked out over the edge of the gully, I found myself staring at a pair of enormous green eyes. The very space around me quivered as their owner started talking.
“Mark Derwin... You’ve given me so many problems that I’m going to have to get rid of you myself. Looks like the dungeon was too much for you — I don’t see the relic.”
The owner was enormous, much larger than its son. No longer worried about hiding, I floated up into the air to get a better view of the creature. I even strapped Raptor on so I could see what its exact digital attributes were. All righty then! It was a kind of Chinese dragon — a long sausage with an ugly, fanged head. The body was ten meters thick, or the height of a three-story building. And it was a hundred meters long. The perfect ti'cick for Usain Bolt. And even the giant bright-green scales weren't enough to draw attention away from the two wings or the six powerful legs. Four were for walking; two were for grabbing. But even with all of them, the owner just hung high in the air, its green eyes fixed on me.
World of the changed 3 Noa in the flesh Page 30