“Painting?” Corey asked.
Mike glared at him, then made a show of laughing it off. “You get a big-time job and forget right away about me and my small business.” Mike said, glaring harder.
Corey finally caught on. “I’m sorry Mike. I guess the other guys on the painting crew will have more hours, then.”
“Yeah, that’s the bright side for them,” Mike said. “But we’ll miss you on the crew.” Mike stood and his eyes softened. “I’m glad you got an opportunity to work for a big company. You’ll always be my brother. Hard for me to let you go.”
Before Corey could answer, Mike turned away and walked out the door. “Good luck, brother,” he called over his shoulder.
“What a nice man,” Morgan said, sitting down in the office chair. She handed Corey a sheaf of paper while Corey tried not to snicker. If she only knew who and what Mike really was…
Corey adjusted Christa on his lap, and looked at the paper. His mouth dropped open as he read.
Dear Mr. Barnes,
Thank you for your application to Plexcorp International. The first stage of your interview process is complete. The final stage of the process will take the interview to the virtual world, where you will face many challenges.
Good luck.
Gideon Thistlethwaite, CEO, Plexcorp International.
“Well?” Morgan asked hesitantly.
“I’m pretty sure I got the job,” Corey said, allowing himself to smile.
“You kept this all a secret,” Morgan said. “I’m not sure whether I should be mad at you or not.”
“It was such a long shot…” Corey said.
“I believe in you, honey,” Morgan said. She stood up and kissed him on the cheek, then collected Christa. “I’m making dinner. Should be ready in a half hour or so.”
She left Corey in the room to read the letter over and over again. When he had the letter committed to memory, he looked through the other papers. The second page was a dummy check in the amount of $200,000. The text at the top of the tri-folded page read:
Dear Adventurer:
To help motivate you in your quest, we offer you the possibility of this treasure below. Should you be successful, you will receive the actual check by courier the following business day.
Good luck,
Virgil, Steward of the realm
Corey sat there on the edge of the bed shaking his head. A single tear welled up and flowed down his cheek from his right eye.
“What the hell?” he asked himself, trying to make sense of the emotion.
His phone buzzed. Corey scrambled off the bed and rifled through his backpack until he found his regular phone. The caller ID read “Plexcorp.”
“Hello, coworker,” Dante said. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow in Reston, Virginia. Plexcorp will send a car for you.”
***
Nigel Chen opened his eyes wide and instantly regretted it. The morning light streaming through his apartment window on the tenth floor blinded him, so he rolled over, closed his eyes and tried again. The immersion VR harness pressed uncomfortably into his forehead while he lay on his side. When he rolled out of bed and stood, he did so on stiff legs.
He removed the harness and sat down at his computer, where the main game lobby showed his centaur character as a background image. The caption over his head read “Thornbark The Noble.” He smiled hard, taking note that the image reflected his character as he had left him, decked out in brand new armor.
Several chat windows streamed text in a constant flow almost too fast to read. The dedicated channel for his clan was filled with congratulations from his fellow Kelpies. The main channel for R9C global was wild with people talking about their adventures in the dungeons below the waterfall as they tried to find the way to the Third Circle. Nigel stamped his feet on the floor as he sat, laughing wildly. He was a hero in the game now, a Legend.
His excitement faded when he noticed the clock at the end of his desk. He would be late for school. For once, he simply did not care. His parents bought him this apartment so that, in his junior year of highschool, he would not have to spend so much time commuting. In truth, Nigel knew they installed him here so they wouldn’t have to be bothered with taking care of him. He was old enough, they said, to learn responsibility. They checked in on him occasionally, when they managed to take time away from their high-powered corporate jobs.
Nigel nearly jumped clear of his chair when a quick knock echoed through the sparsely-furnished one-bedroom apartment. For one irrational moment, he thought that one of his parents was at the door, ready to scold him for being late to school.
Nigel left his bedroom just in time to see an envelope slide under the door and come to rest on the white marble. He bent down to pick it up, noting the label from the courier company marked “express delivery” and “urgent.” He tore open the envelope to find a letter on Plexcorp letterhead that read:
Dear Adventurer:
To help motivate you in your quest, we offer you the possibility of this treasure below. Should you be successful…
Nigel skimmed through the letter, then flipped to the last page with the dummy check, then nearly passed out as he screamed out a Kelpie Clan battle wail.
***
Holly rolled to the side and slipped off the stainless steel workbench. It took great effort to lift her head. When she did, the first thing she noticed was the state of the lab.
“What the hell happened here?” She asked.
“That’s the first thing I said too.” Dante laughed, moving in to steady Holly without thinking. Instead of pushing him away with a snarky comment, she pulled him close, wrapped her arms around him and squeezed. Dante squeezed back.
Holly pulled back and held on to Dante’s forearms lightly. She smiled harder as she watched the color red spread out across his face. When she leaned in to kiss him lightly on the lips, she thought he might pass out as he staggered back half a pace. When he began to stammer, she landed a sharp right cross to his left shoulder. He balled up his fist and shook it at her with a puppy dog grin, then turned away as the lab door slid open.
Martin drew a pistol and was about to point it at the security goon, when the man raised both his hands and stared in shock.
“Not again!” Holly exclaimed
“What the hell, man!” the security guard exclaimed. He wasn’t armed. Martin cocked his head.
“Sorry,” Martin said, slipping the pistol back in his waistband.
“I should call the cops,” the security guard said.
“We had an incident down here,” Martin replied with a smirk.
“No need to call the police,” a smooth voice declared.
“Stroener!” Holly exclaimed, making fists at the end of rigid arms held straight at her sides.
“Relax,” Martin said. “We beat him.”
“No need to rub it in,” the dapper man said. “I brought you a gift.” Stroener wiggled his finger at someone outside in the hall.
A man in a white coat wheeled Derek Nelson into the lab on a wheelchair. An IV bag swung from a pole attached to the wheelchair, and Derek fiddled with the line absently. His pale skin sagged on his cheeks.
“What the hell did you do to him?” Holly asked, rushing forward.
“I got kidnapped,” Derek said. “I remember getting taken in the parking lot minutes after I filed that whistleblower report. Then, I woke up here.”
“Kidnapped?” the security guard said with alarm.
“Nothing for you to worry about,” Stroener said with some menace. “It’s not what you think. You can go now, and don’t forget your NDA.”
The security man scurried away, leaving the man in the white lab coat.
“Who the hell is this?” Martin asked, pointing at the third man.
“You can call him Dr. Smith,” Stroener said. “He comes with our deal. He’s the medical staff in the little operation we ran together.”
Doctor Smith shuffled his feet and wiped his nose with the bac
k of his hand, then scratched his arms.
“Junkie,” Holly said. “Opioids. Guaranteed.”
“I’m trying to get clean,” Doctor Smith said defensively.
Derek looked around, dazed. “Will someone please tell me what the hell is going on?”
“It’s a long story,” Holly said. “Some crazy stuff went down.”
“Tell me about it,” Derek said. “I dreamed I was playing in the Nine Circles as Lost Mary.”
“The captive soul!” Dante and Holly yelled in unison with enough volume to make everyone jump.
“How the hell did you know that?” Derek asked, sitting up in his wheelchair.
“Because it wasn’t a dream,” Holly said.
“This is an immersion harness,” Dante said, holding up the device. “It is, or was, a secret. Gideon ordered you taken and put under in the VR world. I guess they planned to disappear you.”
“You motherfu—” Derek exclaimed, trying to rise, but he was too weak.
“I tried to stall it! I did stall it! That’s why you’re still here!” Doctor smith exclaimed, backing away from the enraged Derek.
“I’m gonna sue your asses off!” Derek yelled.
Martin moved over and took a knee beside Derek. “Don’t worry,” he said. “We’ll do better than that. I just need you to trust me, engineer to engineer. You know me. We will make this right. In the process, you’re going to love the opportunity we have to offer.”
Derek folded his arms, said, “It better be a multi-million dollar opportunity.”
“It is,” Martin said, standing up.
Derek pursed his lips and rubbed his chin. “I’ll consider it.”
“I think this might pass for a happy ending.” Holly said. She noticed Najeel for the first time. “How are you over there, Doctor Boussaid.”
Najeel glanced over, gave a wave with his good arm. “Busy working,” he said in clipped tones.
“Yup. All is well,” Holly said. “I think we’re done.”
“Not quite,” Dante replied, picking up the harness. “I have to see an old friend.”
Epilogue
The sun crested over the horizon, casting beams of amber on a solitary cathedral nestled at the foot of a small hill. The light touched the stained glass windows, making them glow with ethereal warmth.
The mighty wooden doors edged open. A figure stepped from the darkness inside, shading his eyes from the morning light. The dwarf, dressed in nought but a rough cotton tunic and sandals, absently stroked his beard. His hand stilled and he looked down, surprised to feel the beard soft with the gentle curls of youth. He shook his head and a laugh tumbled over the landscape.
“It really is beautiful here,” he murmured.
“Yes, Master Kalmond.” A second figure stepped into the light, his height and frailty contrasting with the squat, burly dwarf. “It truly is.”
“We won, then?”
Virgil didn’t answer immediately, instead running his eyes over this peaceful portion of the Sixth Circle. “Not the war, Master Kalmond. But yes, we have won this battle.”
“Virgil…” Kalmond hesitated, unsure how to voice his thoughts.
“You are wondering how I came to be?”
It was close enough. Kalmond nodded.
Virgil stepped out into the field, wandering slowly through the long grass. “It is not a journey I recall, but for snatches of dreams from the Lesser Realm. Perhaps I was born there; perhaps I was never anywhere else but here in the Nine Circles. I only know that it is my duty to protect this land, and the small portion of the Lesser Realm I inhabit. Duty and honor is everything to me, and that is the truth that binds me. I know this is a constant in any life I might inhabit.”
The answer was good enough. Kalmond ached to know who Virgil had been in his previous life, but believed that if the interface couldn’t tell him, no one could. “What’s next?”
“Next? To begin, you must attend to your other self. Though I admire your courage in returning here so soon, the Lesser Realm is your home and you must return. I need your assistance, though, along with the rest of the Noble Four.”
“Mylos isn’t… gone?”
“He is still dreaming in the Circles. His army is destroyed, but there is little stopping him from creating a new one, especially as his legend grows. The Realms will undergo a period of unrest. Lives must be rebuilt, and others reclaimed. You will have time, I think, to rebuild what you have lost.”
A sharp tingle bit into Kalmond’s hand and when he looked down, a tiny stone nestled in his palm.
“What’s this?” he asked.
Token of Nobility : +15% Experience when equipped.
“Woah. Thanks, Virgil.” Kalmond looked up when the interface didn’t answer, only to find he was alone. He let the sun soak into his bones for a few moments, allowing himself to ache for the battles ahead. Then, with a deep breath, he spoke again.
“Exit game.”
Other works by the authors:
PJC:
The Genetic Imperative
Fleetfoot Interstellar
Fleetfoot Interstellar: Rogue Messiah
Dead, Wired and Online
Amy Hopkins:
Dreamstalker
Faery Teind
Truth Taker
Barrow Fiend
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Realm of the Nine Circles: A LitRPG Novel Page 29