by Arthur Stone
"Yeah, she helped me reach the capital."
"Well, I didn't help much. I got in your way more."
"Please don't argue. If it hadn't been for you, that archer at the watermill would have killed me. I wouldn't have stood a chance against him. So, why are you here and not in the steppe?"
"I resurrected among a crowd of mobs. They may have been waiting for you—I have no idea. I had no HP or anything, so they overpowered me with their magic easily, and brought me here so that I could mine ten lumps of gold ore for their boss."
"Your level has fallen considerably. You're at 189 now. Wherever did you lose the other eight?"
"Right here."
"We didn't part that long ago. It couldn't have been hunger. So, the mobs, then?"
"Yeah. There are lots of them here. You can die a few times before you produce a single lump of ore. They took away my equipment and my weapons, so I can't defend myself. You know I can get about invisible, but I can't mine for ore like that. The mobs hear me, and I find myself up there after a short time."
"Did you get any lumps at all?"
"Seven. But your friends helped me get the last two. They offered to help, and I didn't refuse."
"It's a pity you've lost so many levels. It's really hard to level up when you get to those values."
"Not as hard as they say. Once you get to 200—well, that's when it really gets tough."
"Did you ever get all the way up to 200?"
"201, actually. It's the story of my life. First I rise, then I fall real hard. First it was up to 50 and back; then, once it got problematic, up to 100. And now I'm oscillating wildly between 150 and 200.
"Whatever for?" Tangh looked surprised.
"My race is rather unusual. This isn't your standard Highlander Assassin. It's an Ancient Highlander Assassin. I got it by chance. It has a bonus—I don't lose anything after level loss; then I get an extra point to the primary base stats whenever I gain a level again. It might not seem like much, but it used to be pretty helpful—especially at the beginning.
"The Gift to the Race's Last Scion, is it?" Ros asked her.
"That's right. How do you know?
"I have the same. And the race is exclusive, like yours—besides, I got it free or charge, more or less."
"I didn't pay, either. It seems to be a lottery of sorts."
"Yeah, right… a lottery… I can even guess the number of participants."
"What do you mean?"
"Oh, it's a long story. Right, never mind the ore—we'll have time enough for that. There's something I need to tell you. I've learned all kinds of news from all kinds of sources. I'm not sure about all the details yet, but one thing that's certain is that we can get into a shitload of trouble. Enough for all of us to get killed. Actually killed; not just in the game.
"Not a prospect to look forward to…" Tangh drawled.
"You could say that again. And it may be too late for us to opt out and decline the quest. We're in too deep. And it's all my fault. I'm so sorry. But I had no idea."
"I don't see how it's your fault. It was our choice to follow you, after all."
"In that case, I have some good news, too. If we succeed, our bonuses will be just as substantial. Anyway, listen up…"
* * *
The aircraft's engines started with a low gurgle. The artificial bird made of metal foam, composite materials, plastic, compact batteries, and lightweight electronic units, waited patiently until the technicians disconnected the umbilical cords of cables and tubings, and then set off in a single swift motion, heading towards the runway.
It stopped for a while, just as patient, waiting for a carrier drone to land, then received permission to enter the runway and started the countdown.
A few minutes later, it started to patrol its designated area as part of the Safe Skies program. It was launched after a series of terrorist attacks involving aircraft to protect the populace from further attacks of this sort. The low weight and the high-capacity solar panels installed on the wings and on top of the body allowed the aircraft to patrol the area for dozens of hours. If needed, the bird could cause any target a lot of grief. It had four modern missiles of different kinds on board. By choosing the necessary one, it could destroy an armored vehicle, a group of enemy soldiers, a building, or hostile aircraft. The latter also included high-speed missiles—and those were always hard to intercept.
The area assigned to it was safe.
Machines had no human needs such as food, rest, and so on. People have been aware of it for a long time, and used it willingly. The case with the man-made bird was no exception.
It had no pilot. Nor did it have a cockpit or even the capacity to have one installed. The aircraft required no human supervision. Its own artificial intelligence unit made it capable of pursuing targets, maneuver to evade enemy attacks, and track moving and stationary objects. But it was primitive enough. Those functions were only of any use if the connection with the control center was interrupted for long.
The control center kept guiding the bird, plotting its course and providing it all the necessary information over the Safe Skies network. It could perform regular maintenance and emergency repairs alike with the aid of the automated facility at the airbase. It also controlled which payloads were loaded and which weapons needed to be replaced—the modular construction made this easy.
The control center did not employ any humans, either. Nothing but AI units capable of analyzing minor and medium threats and keep the battle units under their control ready. Yet the main decisions were made by the Safe Skies system and not the local units. Or, rather, the system's controlling network.
The Safe Skies control center did not employ any humans, either. A state-of-the-art AI easily controlled a fleet of drones and a multitude of peripheral AI units. It worked around the clock, requiring no food or sleep. Even if a saboteur would destroy one or several sectors of the network, the AI could handle it without involving people. It had automated repair and maintenance systems as well as well-protected warehouse stuffed with necessary equipment and supplies.
Safe Skies could only be put out of commission if someone managed to destroy the main AI. But that would require a high-power thermonuclear charge, since the expensive electronics housing the synthetic consciousness were located under almost three hundred feet of natural granite—the data center was located underneath a large rock and protected perfectly from any electromagnetic impulses.
Also, the payload would have to be delivered somehow. That would be problematic, since the AI took the most care about protecting the most important component of the Safe Skies system. Itself, that is. It had a lot more to rely on than robotic birds in case of danger.
What place did people occupy in this hierarchy? People connected cables and tubings to various machines. People stood at military checkpoints. People wasted tons of paper at the headquarters.
If all those people disappeared at some point, it would be no problem at all for the AI to replace them. He had a lot in stock to deal with this precise kind of situation.
The AI was reliable. The AI would never go against an order. The AI was ideal.
There was a tiny detail, though. The commands programmed by the military will always take a second priority. Second to what? To the set of Second World rules developed by the creator of the game—a notorious professor who had managed to solve the secret of human consciousness.
The synthetic intelligence would follow his instructions for as long as it would exist. In any situation at all. That code of rules was the basis of its existence. It was the very foundation of its synthetic sentience.
Any other order could wait.
Chapter 18
You complete a stage of the quest: Deliver the Message from the Emperor of the West to the Supreme Council of the Locked Lands. Quest completed. Quest success: 100%. Reward: 7,500,000 XP, +900 to reputation among Locked Lands mixed fractions, +4 to every primary base stat, +5 undistributed secondary stat points, +2 undistri
buted auxiliary stat points. You gain a level. You gain a level. You gain a level. You gain a level. You gain a level. You gain a level. You gain a level. Points left until the next level: 629543. Attention! The assignment given by the Supreme Council of the Locked Lands is a potentially heroic quest! You’re a hero! Your reward: +4 primary base stat points, +1 to Disguise, +2 to Arcane Knowledge, +1 to Reason, +8% to experience received for killing monsters and completing quests. Your party and your guild will receive half the bonus."
Ros turned towards Thyri.
"So, how did it go? Did you get the bonuses?"
She nodded.
Perfect. The quest conditions did not state it clearly whether a group could be expanded during the later stages of the quest. And it was a great way to help out your friends if you managed to grab luck by the tail. Whoever joined your party would receive the same bonuses as you.
It worked this time. Thyri got her share of experience, and a few other useful things.
"You've even gained a level. Congratulations!"
"And I have gained two," Danger Babe butted in.
Two competitive group members were always a risk. Danger Babe was no exception—she tried to prove her superiority in any way she could. However, there was no malice, so it didn't represent a problem. He just had to avoid encouraging it—or paying any attention, for that matter.
Tardath Yrch puffed out his furry cheeks self-importantly. His extremely long and narrow ears twitched all the time as he said in a guttural voice,
"Now that you have completed your mission, we can send our envoys to the Great Emperor. And then there will be peace between our lands. We shall destroy the wild hordes together; your people will be able to visit us, and we shall, in turn, be able to visit your cities to gain knowledge we did not possess previously. This will serve the greater good of everyone, I think."
The junior members of the Supreme Council of the Locked Lands all started to nod their triangular heads in agreement, but, as before, none of them wished to interrupt the soliloquy of their wise leader.
So Tardath kept going,
"Heroes who managed to help us this much deserve the highest reward. And this puts me in a bit of a quandary. Should I just give you a few mere objects? They would make you much stronger, after all.
Ros almost shouted that he was fine with that, and would actually love to get a few "mere objects," but he bit back his tongue. It made no sense to be hasty about rewards for quests of this class.
"I see that you keep your silence. This is prudent. What are material things? Useless garbage and nothing more."
Ros had enough argumentation to counter this, but he kept shtum once again, expecting the NPC to continue.
It didn't take long.
"Great Rostendrix Poterentax, you have done many a heroic deeds as you wandered this land. And we hear rumors that you attracted the attention of the long-gone gods of the Second World. Indeed, only a chosen few are aware that the present godlessness is nothing like the things had stood at the dawn of time. The gods had existed once, but then they departed. All that's left are legends. You can study them at the library of the Supreme Council of the Locked Lands, and you can access it as a reward for your service."
Could that be it? The only reward they would received for such a great quest? Unbelievable! That was Ros's greatest disappointment so far.
However, Tardath Yrch did not yet finish his lengthy speech.
"The gods became indifferent and left. But there may be a way of breaking the ice of their indifference. Who knows? There is too much iniquity in the world, and we are too weak to put things right on our own. There is a book that only a true hero will be able to open. The legend has it that he who opens the book will also open the door. Which door? I know nothing about it. But what I do know is that the door was created by the gods themselves. It is a path that can bring them back—or, perhaps, a means of creating new gods to replace the departed. I know not whether there is a hero who could open it among you, so you might find the book useless. So, perhaps, you would like to choose something else? We have shiny magical armor, amulets the like of which Second World has never seen, and the deadliest weapons capable of vanquishing even the strongest enemies. The book may be more valuable than all that, but no one's managed to open it so far. The pages are bound together by too strong a spell—no mage alive could undo it.
Ros turned towards his companions, but Tangh never let him say a word.
"I believe we all came to an understanding yesterday. Even if we get a full set each, it won't matter in the long run."
"So we go all in? Are you sure?"
All three of his companions nodded at once. Ros answered with a nod of his own, turned towards Yrch and shook his head.
"I'd lie if I said we have no interest in the equipment, but the book is a lot more important. We choose the book."
Tardath Yrch bowed.
"An unthinkable choice. It is absurd by any account. No one would make it. But you did, which means we've been right about you all along. You are true heroes, and you are the ones who will bring back the Second World's gods. We, the peoples of the Locked Lands, are guilty of their departure, likewise many others. Our gift to you is the best way we can think of to expiate this great guilt of ours. We had a feeling in our hearts that you would make this choice, so there is no need to go to the library. Behold the book. It is yours now.
As Tardath Yrch said it, he produced an enormous tome out of thin air. It was roughly the size of a mini-car. Ros could do nothing but accept it, and he was surprised at how such an enormous object could be so light—almost weightless.
Then the system message appeared.
Attention! You receive… database error. Attention! The received item may… database error. In case if… database error. Minimum level required for the item… database error. When you open the book, you will automatically receive the quest… database error. You cannot refuse… database error. You can only relinquish the item you receive… database error… to an in-game character. The item… database error… will be destroyed after… database error.
"Is anybody else seeing what I'm seeing?" asked Ros.
"If you're referring to the enormous pile of database errors, I see them all right," Tangh replied.
"What are those arrows?" asked Danger Babe.
"They're something that shouldn't happen in the game."
Ros shook his head.
"I have already encountered such errors. As I was receiving notifications of certain achievements."
Tangh shrugged.
"It may be that all top-level achievements are accompanied by such balderdash. It could be because of all that strange stuff that has been happening in the game lately. Players complain about all kinds of oddities. There are countless forum threads to that effect. But I doubt it. There must be something wrong with this quest."
"We haven't been given a quest yet."
"We're likely to receive it as soon as you open the book. You're as heroic as they get, so you should succeed."
"It must be the very quest everybody has been hinting at."
"I remember our conversation yesterday. We have already discussed everything. Go ahead and open it already. Even someone as ancient as me is getting curious, let alone the girls."
"Does anyone feel like opting out?"
Thyri shook her head.
"I promised to help you. And you know my story. So I won't refuse."
"Open it already!" Danger Babe looked seriously agitated.
"As you say."
So Ros opened the tome.
"You receive the quest: Prevent a Gross Violation of Rule 4.2.1. Quest type: …database error. Fulfilment of the quest may change the game mechanics. Quest duration: unspecified. If the party takes too long, the quest may be given to other parties. Reward: unknown. Attention! Your characters' lives and your real lives will be endangered while you fulfill the quest. The quest will only be considered complete if the main perpetrators attempting a gros
s violation of Rule 4.2.1 are punished. Quest conditions: some stages will require a group of four players or more. Some stages of the quest can only be completed by players with the level of 130 or more."
"I've never seen anything like this quest," said Danger Babe.
Tangh nodded.
"Neither has anyone else. But we already knew the quest will not be of the ordinary sort. We have problems, Ros. There are four people here who are reckless enough to ignore the threat of death. But only one of them levels above 130, and this presents a problem. We're just not strong enough."
Ros shook his head.
"I don't see a problem. Given the bonuses from our achievements…"
"Your achievements," Tangh interrupted.
"Add that to what we get from the guild, we can level up much faster than other players. We also have enough funds to afford leveling-up of the highest class. I've done it before, so I have some experience. It will take us a fortnight to get there—or maybe even a week."
"They won't let you level up peacefully. Didn't you tell us yourself yesterday that everyone and their grandma found a way of tracking you? With that weird method of theirs, or whatever."
"That's right. But there's a solution to any problem, and this one's a piece of cake."
"So how do we do that?"
"The local furries are sending their envoys to the capital. This is gonna take a while, so we have a week, or maybe even two. Up to then, the general public will have very restricted access to the Locked Lands. They will be able to raid the area where the barrier had once stood at best. It would take them a lot of effort to cross it—unless they come as prisoners. Well, you, of all people, know just how it goes. Thyri here instantly ran into a pack of mobs, for example. Anyway, I can use a scroll to teleport to the capital, arrange things at the Mercenary Guild, and transport their party here, way beyond the barrier. They'll be able to help us level up here without any trouble."
"There's another problem. I didn't receive any message about what exactly is required of us. Did I miss anything, or is that the case with you as well?"