Apostle of the Sleeping Gods

by Dan Sugralinov

  I was caught up in guesses about what classes the system had offered me. In the Mire I just wasn’t feeling like looking, then I talked with Behemoth and exited before I remembered to read the system message. Tissa, by the way, had said that tomorrow Ed and the gang were going to celebrate the First Kill after school and asked if I wanted to join. I replied that I would be happy to.

  Then, as I was catching up on quantum field theory from physics class, the front door opened and mom and dad shuffled inside looking impossibly tired and sullen.

  “Alex, Alex...” she shook her head. But contrary to expectation, she didn’t start shouting. “Your citizenship tests are in a few months. After that, you’ll have to live on your own. What do you think is gonna happen with this kind of attitude toward your studies?”

  While she sermonized, father tousled the back of my head and locked himself in the bathroom. For the next half hour, I heard him splashing, gurgling and grunting away inside.

  “How was the flight?” I asked.

  “Fine...” mom muttered and spent a long time in silence. “The project was rejected. At least they didn’t ask us to pay back the advance. And they easily could have.”

  “But how? Why?”

  “We had another bad fight,” mom answered and I realized she was talking about father. “Our calculations were way off and some big bugs crawled out during testing. The clients were furious. They were preparing for a top raid dungeon that will be part of a global event in Disgardium. They have an inside man in Snowstorm who gave us the mechanics and attributes for the boss. Our job was to use them to make a beta training ground.”

  “For what clan?”

  “One of the most influential in Dis – Modus. They won the last adult Arena and are the most successful preventers in the game.”

  “Why didn’t they give you time to fix it, mom?”

  “Oh, they suddenly had bigger fish to fry. In Dis, A class-A threat popped. It’s the highest there’s ever been! So naturally, they went bananas and now they’re practically digging a hole to China to find it!” Mom laughed. “That might be why they didn’t insist we pay back the advance. There was an emergency assembly of all preventers...”

  “What? Why, mom? Don’t clans usually try and find threats on their own so they don’t have to share the reward?”

  “Once there was a clan that eliminated a class-D threat. They went from a group of nobodies, ranked around eight thousand to one of the top three. So what do you think, Alex? Do the preventers know what they stand to gain for a threat three levels higher than that, an A? Every level, the rewards increase practically exponentially! From what I overheard, they’re planning to form an Alliance of Preventers.”

  It was only then that I realized exactly what I was up against. Just me against the entire world, discounting whatever the Destroying Plague was and a blob of protoplasm that called itself a Sleeping God.

  And Eve... Things had been dicey with her. I was afraid that, if I didn’t reciprocate her feelings soon, they might do a one-eighty.

  And staying with the Dementors was like being tied to a powder keg. Maybe it looked like a beer keg from far away but, one day, they’d realize who they were dealing with. If they hadn’t already...

  The get-together tomorrow would open my eyes to a lot of things. I wasn’t sure, but there could be alcohol and that would loosen their tongues. I hoped that might clue me in on how to act around them from there on out.

  “Mom...” I faltered, affecting a mild tone. “Have you and dad...”

  “What Alex?”

  “Have you and dad tried patching things up? I mean, you’ve been together for so long!”

  My question caught her off guard. She spent a long time pretending to be busy making tea. But eventually she came and sat opposite me, placing a mug in front of me. The water went quiet in the bathroom. Dad was done washing up. We sat in silence, listening to father shave the old-fashioned way with an electric razor instead of just using a lotion to remove his facial hair once and for all (he thought stubble made him look more manly). I couldn’t bring myself to repeat my question, and she didn’t want to answer.

  But she did say something eventually. By the time dad was rustling a towel, wiping his face, she coldly stated:

  “I don’t love your father, son. I don’t love Mark. I have another.”

  I’d guessed as much, but hearing it out loud hit me harder than a Hammer. I felt a lump in my throat, my face crinkled like a baby’s and I covered it with my hands, holding back tears. It was the final verdict.

  The whole past week, I still had some hope, subconsciously sure that they would get it out of their system and change their minds. But this was final. Dad would never live with her knowing she had a lover. And mom was losing her mind, waiting for the freedom to move away to live with her new beau...

  I looked at her with different eyes. She was thirty-six years old. She was still attractive and had a smoking-hot body. But now she was in the embrace of another man?

  Feeling a furious attack of hatred for whatever horny dipshit had done my mom’s head in, I walked into my room, not finishing my powdered tea. Old man Furtado was right: the drink my mom made had nothing to do with the noble beverage called tea.

  To distract myself I tried to contact Eve, but her comm was unavailable. So I dove headfirst into a physics textbook. “Quantum theory for systems with infinite degrees of freedom...”

  A gripping read.

  * * *

  As the last bell of the day rang, the class kicked up a ruckus, stood up and headed for the door. I caught up with the Dementors. We were going to fly over to Ed’s to celebrate the First Kill, but I was stopped by my teacher’s hand.

  “Sheppard, hang back,” said Mr. Kovacs, his eyes focused on a panel showing my performance.

  “Yes, Greg?” I stopped next to him. His eyes shot up in surprise even though last week he said I could call him by name. I corrected myself: “Mr. Kovacs.”

  “We’ll wait up,” Ed nodded at me and the Dementors left class.

  “You’d better sit down,” Mr. Kovacs pointed me to a chair next to his desk. “We’re gonna have a long and serious conversation, Sheppard.”

  It was the first time I could remember something like this happening. He’d never talked to me with such a serious, dry and official tone, calling me by my last name. Usually he acted like he was on equal footing with his students.

  Kovacs stood up, closed the door and came back. He drummed his fingers on the tabletop and said sharply:

  “I don’t have a lot of time, Sheppard, so let me be brief. For the last unit, your attendance was just eighty percent. Your integrated performance score is seventy-nine. That’s nothing fatal, but it’s getting very close. I’m not gonna let that happen. So this morning I called up your parents to get to the bottom of this, and you know what they told me?”

  “That they’re getting divorced?”

  “What?” Mr. Kovacs asked in surprise. “So they’re getting divorced? That clears things up a lot...” he drummed his fingers again. “Hm-hmm... Okay then, that makes me feel even more responsible for your future, Alex.” His tone softened. “I’m giving you two extra classes every day until your integrated performance score is completely back to normal. Starting today. I’ve already signed you up for a study spot in the lab, so you can head there and get started as soon as we’re done talking.”

  I had no response, just nodded. As he said, it wasn’t fatal, I’d survive. And I myself understood that I had fallen a bit behind. Sitting through the lessons I missed in a VR-helmet and retaking the tests didn’t scare me.

  “And that’s not all. Your mom, Mrs. Sheppard, told me you have developed an unhealthy fixation with Disgardium.”

  “What? Unhealthy? Are you saying something everyone enjoys is unhealthy?”

  “Maybe I didn’t express myself properly. Anyway, I was just repeating your mom’s words. Most likely she meant your interest in Dis has suddenly increased. And you know I
don’t agree with the Department of Education on that particular rule... How to put it lightly... To me, it seems they crossed the line when they required kids to spend time playing a game. You understand? It might make sense for kids with low citizenship status. After all, they really have nowhere better to go after school and Dis is great at reducing social tension...” he chewed his lips and stroked his nose. “But Alex, you’re from a good family! Status F! There’s nothing stopping you from becoming a fully-fledged member of society!”

  “Did you forget? They’re getting divorced!”

  “But they aren’t divorced yet!” Greg slapped the desk and lifted himself up. I could see flickers of fury in his eyes and, in surprise, I fell back in my chair. “And if they’re smart, they won’t get divorced, at least until your citizenship tests!”

  He was right. My parents’ high citizenship status might afford me extra points in the eyes of the commission. It also might not, that was just rumored. But the rumors were stubborn and statistics seemed to confirm them.

  Though perhaps it was just because high-status families had more opportunities to provide their offspring better health, social skills and education starting in early childhood if not from the moment of conception. Gene editing cost a lot of money, for example, but anyone was legally allowed to use it, just pony up.

  Mr. Kovacs spent a long time boring into me with his eyes but finally his forehead wrinkles smoothed out, his nostrils stopped flaring threateningly and he found his seat again. Then he went right back to his usual tone as if nothing had happened:

  “One hour ago, I petitioned the Department of Education to temporarily ban your character from Disgardium. I ticked all the boxes to get it done too, including referencing your potential value to society... of this world, not Dis. And the petition was approved. Your character has been banned for two weeks. I hope that’ll be enough time for you to catch up on everything you missed.”

  “What? You have to be joking, right Mr. Kovacs? You can’t..!”

  I just about told him I was a threat and thus required to spend at least eight hours a day in the game but he fortunately spoke over me.

  “Do I look like I’m joking? You better believe I can!” He flew into rage again. “Stand up, Sheppard! Into the VR-lab for extra classes! Now!”

  Slamming the door behind me, I was thought that the rumors of his fighting past may have had a firm basis. In the hallway, I saw the astonished faces of the Dementors. Hung was standing at mock attention.

  “Sir, yes sir!” he shouted, bulging out his eyes.

  “Hung Lee!” Kovacs’s voice came from the class. “Two extra classes with Sheppard! Step to!”

  * * *

  Out of solidarity, everyone waited for us. For me, the hour and a half in bionics lectures flew by fairly quickly. But Hung Lee took it worse. Removing the VR helmet, he shrugged his shoulders, turned his head and said with frustration:

  “Damn! They say decent schools have pods, not this ancient trash.” He pulled off the manipulator gloves, threw them on the floor and cracked his fingers. “So, we gettin’ out of here?”

  “Yep,” I nodded. “But it was interesting. No, really! Otherwise, I probably wouldn’t have learned that, just one hundred years ago, you would have been a cyclops.”

  Hung reflexively touched his left eye. It was bionic, but indistinguishable from the normal one he’d lost in some mindless kid’s game.

  “A hundred years ago? Grandpa told me that, back then, at least everyone had work. But he was little then. He could be imagining things. He tells all kinds of tall tales!” Hung slapped me on the shoulder and gave a somewhat unhappy laugh. “What are your plans, Alex? Me and the guys just can’t stop guessing. What made you get so good at Dis all of a sudden?”

  “I’ll talk about it at Ed’s. I don’t wanna repeat myself.”

  The guys were waiting at the flying car launchpad. When they saw us, they got up, shaking off some snow.

  “Finally! We’ve been freezing our asses off out here!” Malik shouted.

  Their heated clothing would hardly have allowed that, but he Tissa and Ed all had rosy cheeks. The first snow had fallen in the night and it was so much that the pad’s climate control system was overwhelmed, so the snow was simply shoveled to the edges of the roof. And by the looks of things, the guys got into it and had a snowball fight while waiting for me and Hung.

  The five of us got into one flying car and Rodriguez set the destination. On the way, we talked about all kinds of stuff but, for some reason, avoided any mention of Disgardium. Even when I raised the topic of my account being banned for two weeks, they didn’t react. Tissa shook her head and softly touched my chest, whispering with just her lips: “Later.”

  After a quarter hour, we landed on the roof of the building where Ed lived.

  It was a category-H neighborhood, inhabited by citizens of low civil status. And the differences were instantly obvious wherever you looked. The buildings were taller, and denser. There was less green space... The windows even looked smaller.

  “Let’s go.” Ed brought us through the parking lot and stuck his finger up to the lock. It gave a click and the door slid up. “Don’t track in any snow.”

  The elevator brought us down to floor twenty-four. That too was different here. It wasn’t as fast, silent or as spacious as the one in my building.

  We walked down a long hallway, then stopped next to one of the doors. Ed opened the lock by putting his head up to the facial recognition camera. Malik started whistling a recent hit song and even tried to dance, but Tissa whispered:

  “Infect! Quiet! You’ll wake up Ed’s grandma!”

  As soon as the door opened, I heard a sonorous girl’s scream:

  “Eddy!”

  A five-year-old girl threw herself at Rodriguez and, jumping up, hung off his shoulders.

  “Who’s there Pollyanna?” I heard a woman’s voice from deep in the apartment. “Edward, is that you? You’re late, Edward!”

  “Yes, grandma! Mr. Kovacs assigned extra lessons!” Ed shouted over the girl’s head.

  She jumped out of her brother’s arms, hugged Malik and Hung, then clung to Tissa’s neck. Clearly they were frequent guests here. Melissa whispered something softly into her ear and she nodded and laughed, shooting me a furtive glance.

  “My name is Alex,” I extended a hand.

  “Polly,” she barely touched my hand with her palm, embarrassed.

  “I’ll go talk with grandma,” Ed said. “There’s coke in the fridge, grab some and go park your asses on the balcony. Little Polly, have you eaten?” She nodded. “Good, then go play in your room.”

  I studied Ed’s apartment. It was roomy, no less than ours, though the category made it a bit dumpier. The guys pulled a couple big bottles of soda out of the fridge. Tissa picked up a packet of disposable cardboard cups and a few bags of chips.

  All that in hand, we walked over to a wide windowed balcony with a view of... a gray neighboring building with blue window frames just a couple dozen yards away. Still, there was room for four chairs and a small plastic table. The rest of the space was occupied by a pile of random objects: pictures, a ton of little figurines and some boxes. Everything was covered in a layer of dust. The house had a certain feeling of neglect, as if it hadn’t seen a woman’s touch in ages or at least the hands of a robot cleaner. And by the way, I didn’t see one.

  “There’s room for five people here,” I noted while we waited for Ed. “It’s a big apartment.”

  “Once upon a time, five people did live here,” Hung answered gloomily. “But three years ago, Ed’s parents caught the Rock Virus in Africa.”

  “Isn’t it treatable?” I asked in surprise. There was a new disease just about every year, but modern medicine found ways of defeating even such hellish adversaries as the Rock Virus, which caused healthy cells to rot while still alive.

  “It was at the very beginning,” Tissa explained, opening a bag of chips. “They were in the first wave, before anyone
even knew how to diagnose it.”

  “But they were good artists,” Hung added.

  “What was it?” Tissa rolled her eyes, remembering. “The value of the cultural contribution of their works... blah-blah-blah... Basically they put their citizenship status on Ed’s grandma so the family wouldn’t have to move.”

  “And what about his grandma?” I asked. “Should we go say hi to her?”

  “It isn’t necessary,” Tissa shook her head. “She can barely walk, is just about deaf and doesn’t like strangers. And to her, you’re definitely a stranger.”

  “And you will always be one unless you meet her,” Malik snorted. “Actually that’s a good idea. Go introduce yourself.”