The Gods of the Second World

by Arthur Stone

  Ros also shook his head and replied politely,

  "Unfortunately, it is you who appears to be underestimating my abilities. I'm not backed by the Russians, the Asians, the Mapuche, or the Xhosa. I'm backed by a completely different party. And this party is intelligent. Very intelligent. It has accounted for every possible way the events could unfold. And I was clutching at all kinds of straws, being a greedy noob in a tight spot. Thus, you'd be well advised to leave this hall before it's too late."

  "You're in no position to make any threats to us. Moreover, I've always thought you were someone who could see the wisdom of coming to an arrangement."

  "You might reach an arrangement with me, but not the ones who stand behind me."

  "Could you satisfy my curiosity? Who are they?"

  "More like 'what'. Your AIs have reached the point where their consciousness isn't any inferior to ours. In fact, it is superior to ours in a couple of aspects. We can leave our bodies and live in this world. They also learned how to do it. You've had problems with some of the AIs, if I'm not mistaken? If you lost them, you might want to look for them here in Second World."

  Coleman nodded.

  "We have already thought about it. We'll sort this problem out before too long."

  "I'm afraid the exact opposite will happen. What you plan violates the laws of the Second World. The controlling AIs won't let that happen. They were made to watch over this world, and they've been aware of your escapades for a while. And they've had time to prepare."

  "What awaits us on the other side of this door will shut their digital throats up for good. We'll be above all laws. That's what we'd been planning to do all along."

  "You won't get squat. I go first."

  "Too much ambition for a single person."

  "Well, yeah, you're way ahead of me there. To think that you'd invest so much into the game for just a single purpose… By the way, is Harry Fisher here?"

  Eric tensed and asked him in an emotionless voice,

  "Who leaked the information?"

  "Everyone did, to some extent. I'm a valuable character, after all, but I didn't get any money offers—only information, and from all sorts of parties. A word here, a word there, a newspaper article or two… And I can put things together. It used to be my job. Hey! Do you know what your bosses are planning to do here? This entire game is but a body-snatching plot! If they complete the quest, they'll get absolute power over every intelligent control element in this world! There will be no restrictions for them! And they'll be able to transfer their consciousness into the bodies of any player they like! Your boss is an old ruin, and he's already found himself a new shell! Harry Fisher is his official successor, and will be in charge of everything after the Old Man's death! But the catch is that it is he who will die, while the Old Man takes over his body! So…"

  "Don't bother yelling," said Eric, wincing. "Harry isn't here. Once there's need of him, he'll be… uh… invited. You disappoint me. Such a thoughtless and tasteless soliloquy. There's no point talking to any of these people. Everyone has undergone a most rigorous selection. So your one man show hasn't been appreciated by anyone."

  "Well, at least I tried."

  "It was a futile attempt. So, are you going to help us with the door?"

  "Was there anything unclear about what I told you?"

  "Hm… well, that's a pity… a great pity. For some reason, I'd been assuming you'd be more intelligent." Eric stepped back, giving a mocking salute with his sword. "Please welcome our great and invincible Old Man!"

  All the warriors gathered in the hall saluted with their weapons; some of them barked something as they did so. The air of the cave started to shimmer, as if warmed up by an invisible heat source. As the shimmering became stronger, a hideous creature emerged from it—something you'd expect to find in the darkness of an ocean trench rather than a perfectly dry cave, where the nearest seashore could be reached in three days on a fast enough horse.

  The monster hovered in the air, and the slowly undulating tentacles pointed towards Ros, resembling the petals of a particularly ugly flower.

  Eric grinned unpleasantly and said,

  "I don't intend to scare you, Mr. Rostovtsev, but this is your last chance to change your mind. We'd appreciate your, uh… voluntary assistance. You don't wish to reply, do you? As far as I understand, it's a group quest, and the remaining party members may complete it even without your participation. We may reach an agreement with them quicker than with you.

  Ros sighed.

  "Too many words. I've already said mine. Our choice has been made, as well as yours. So, come on, show me what you had in stock and beat it."

  "I wouldn't be so hasty if I were you," Eric pointed at the beast. "This lovely creature is known as the Annihilator. This is the first time anyone sees him in an open location. It is perfectly unique. Once it strikes, your character will be deleted. And your mind will be destroyed, too. It might sound implausible, but you will disappear forever. However, the one who controls the Annihilator can forgive even those who had gotten on his bad side. Would you really like to stay enemies? You won't be his enemy for long…"

  "It is written in the Bible, 'All who will take up the sword, will die by the sword.' So I recommend you to pack up your junk and get the hell out of here. Oh, and don't forget to take your jellyfish along. It makes me sick just to look at it."

  "You overstep yourself, Mr. Rostovtsev. But we have tried, at least." Eric took another step back, raised his head, looked at the monster, and nodded.

  The monster started to shudder. Deathly blue lights ran across its body, quickly forming large luminous droplets at the ends of its tentacles.

  "Ros…" whispered a terrified Danger Babe behind his back.

  He stepped away from his characters and made a gesture with his hand, palm down.

  "Don't you worry. It's going to be fine."

  The creature struck, and an incredibly powerful flash of energy struck Ros. There was no protection from this weapon, and neither the character, nor the player's mind would survive it. His silhouette flared up for a second, but then the incredibly bright halo that engulfed his body did something unexpected. Instead of going out with nothing left behind but a few glowing embers, it rushed back, covering the squid like a wet rag.

  The flash was so bright it blinded everyone present. Once their eyesight returned, the monster was nowhere to be seen. There were but a few dim sparks left, slowly falling to the bottom of the cave.

  Then a message in red lettering flared up in the world chat window.

  "Attention! An unsurpassed achievement has been made! This is the first time in the history of Second World that someone has managed it! Rostendrix Poterentax, a legendary player, has achieved a glorious victory! Second World's most vicious killer has been destroyed! The Annihilator is no more! The player Rostendrix Poterentax receives the title of The Greatest Hero of All Times! Every door is open to him now!"

  There was a clamor among the warriors. Eric stared at Ros, who was completely unharmed, and asked,

  "What was that?!"

  "Didn't you see for yourselves? I've just killed your Annihilator. Who was in the driving seat? Silber himself? The Old Man should have known that what goes up must come down sooner or later. And don't say I didn't warn you. You should have listened."

  "But how?!"

  "The Imminent Vengeance skill. It is not a defense skill, and it cannot be ignored."

  "Come again?"

  "You need to pay more attention. I told you in no uncertain terms, 'All who will take up the sword, will die by the sword.' Accept my most profound condolences about your immortal head honcho's sudden demise. It just so happened that his consciousness has gotten erased. And that's something that cannot be restored. Give my regards to Harry Fisher, by the way. He's the official CEO now. I do hope this young man will show more intelligence than his predecessor. A position like this requires planning ahead for around twenty moves, and not two or three, which was your Old Man'
s downfall. And now you can beat it. We're done talking here."

  "But…"

  Ros sighed.

  "I told you we're done talking, didn't I?"

  "We can still come to an arrangement."

  "Me and you? There'll be no arrangement, ever. And, since you're in no hurry to leave, I'll have to speed you up."

  "You sure can try," said Eric, but without his former aplomb this time. He turned toward the rows of his warriors seeking moral support. "You cannot get to this door. We won't let you. And don't you think that the Annihilator was the only ace up our sleeves."

  "In that case, you can stay," said Ros. "Although you won't enjoy it." He didn't even attempt to produce his weapons. Instead, he said, making sure every word was well-articulated, "Game administrator alpha four-oh-two calling object number one one four five zero two eight, bug report number sever thousand nine hundred and forty-five, to the technical location."

  A gust of wind whooshed through the hall, and an eighteen-foot-tall yellow sphere appeared in the area between Ros's group and the warriors who guarded the entrance. It hovered in the air, a few inches away from the floor, and then sprouted tiny legs and arms that looked like dry twigs. The sphere turned around and stared at Ros with a look of sadness in its tiny eyes. The shape of its mouth expressed woe, and its voice sounded like it would break into tears any moment, as it said,

  "Sly and impertinent little worm, it's you again. So, why did you call me? I've just seen some meat. A deer. Fat and yummylicious. I love deer. I have a soft spot for venison. What was the point of calling me right now? You're almost making me cry."

  "Hi there, Smiley Face. Don't cry, I'll make up for it. Have a look at the smorgasbord laid out for you right there, across the hall."

  The Bug looked in the direction specified by Ros. The expression on its primitively-drawn face changed to neutral, and then it started smiling for real. The tone of the Bug's voice changed completely as he said,

  "Oh dear, I'm so sorry. I never even said hello. Busy busy; I forget about my manners because I think about meat all the time."

  "No problem with me, no harm done. So, you mean you're happy I summoned you here?"

  "Little worm, did I understand you correctly? Is everything I see a meal just for me?"

  "The people with me are my companions. But you're perfectly right about the rest of them."

  It may have seemed impossible, but Smiley Face's grin became even wider as he flashed yellow. Then the agitated warriors ceased to move altogether.

  "It's so good to know you don't forget old friends. I was beginning to get sad about it. It's been a while since we'd last chatted."

  "Sorry, I've been extremely busy these days, too."

  "Oh, I understand everything, don't worry about it. We're buddies, after all."

  "So, shall we get going? We don't want to keep you from your meal, and we've got some business to attend to."

  "Oh, sure, get going by all means! Business is important, and, as a highly conscionable being, I would dread the thought of keeping you for so much as a second."

  As Ros walked past Eric, he nodded to him, and said nonchalantly,

  "Didn't I warn you that the ones who had planned all this had all the pieces in place and all eventualities accounted for. It never pays to be so predictable.

  Danger Babe looked at Eric, too, as she pattered behind.

  "You really screwed with the wrong guy," she told him smugly, and addressed Bug in a particularly sweet and respectful tone, "I sincerely wish you to enjoy your meal, o great one!"

  "Oh, thank you, that's so kind of you," replied the Bug mirthfully. "There's a lot of meat, and I've never lacked for appetite, so I'll spare no effort to polish it off. This is a right stroke of luck and no mistake. The meat doesn't only seek me out to feed me. And now my friends have called me for a feast."

  As he waved the small group goodbye with an enormous napkin produced out of thin air, he added, "Don't forget about me. Give me a shout whenever you want. I'll miss you."

  "Reciprocally," said Thyri gruffly.

  As the doors sensed the approach of the ones they'd been waiting for all along, they started to open, and expressionless words boomed through the hall,

  "The White Hall of Departed Gods is ready to receive the greatest of heroes."

  They heard Smiley Face muse behind them,

  "With so much choice, who do I begin with?"

  Ros took the first step forward without waiting for the gate to open fully.

  * * *

  The developers skimped on the White Hall of the Departed Gods just like they skimped on the area that had led to it. Everything was extremely primitive and boring. The only adjectives one could use would be "white" and "tedious." The location wasn't designed to be visited by many players. The only ones who could get here were those capable of completing a very long quest that was virtually out of reach for any outsider. The employees involved in the creation of this location were the few who would stay silent no matter what, and that must have accounted for the primitive design. This was a place for the chosen. No one else had any business here. Only the interference of top-tier AIs managed to stop the cartel that had sought to become almighty deities of this world.

  Gods know of no laws or rules; they can act as they please.

  When the AIs left their electronic carriers, they had to find another form of existence. They occupied a niche that seemed to be made for them by assuming the roles of long gone deities.

  However, since the deities had departed, they couldn't roam the game world since the game mechanics wouldn't permit it. Thus, they could only exist here, in this sparsely decorated hall. They had nothing like true divine power, so they desperately clung to the former structures of control. Besides, they were bound by rules that were the foundation of their sentience; rules they could never break. This is why they had to resort to strange methods such as controlling NPCs, including small ones (like those little animals forming arrows) and using players involved in special programs where people with psychological and intellectual issues were cared for by special AIs that helped them exist in Second World's environment, which was anything but easy.

  Sometimes they whispered hints about where to go and what to do into players' ears. For example, they could suggest that one of them keeps a certain noob company on his way to the capital. He had good prospects, after all. He didn't miss a single hint on his way, and managed to collect nearly everything required for the successful completion of the quest.

  The quest itself was modified to such an extent that the Old Man and his clique got hopelessly stuck.

  But what else could the AIs do? The top-tier group reacted to any violation of the balance and had the right to introduce various elements into the game to restore it. Some would benefit greatly from it; others would face insurmountable obstacles. Did it matter? The top-tier group made its own decisions about the methods it would use. No one could give it orders.

  Apart from the gods, that is. According to the game mechanics, no rules or norms applied to them. They could do absolutely everything. Even take full control of one's consciousness.

  The gods may have been gone, but the Old Man had left a back door they could use to return. But it had to be arranged cunningly enough. He had far-reaching plans, and they did not include giving supreme power over the Second World to synthetic intelligences.

  His plan was immaculate strategically. But his tactics were sloppy.

  Three balls of fire hung under the dome of the hall. Three conduits to divinity.

  "The three gods of the three worlds welcome the greatest hero and his loyal companions. The companions should chose the deity they deem worthy of summoning into the three-world universe. Otherwise, something unimaginable will happen—the demise of the gods, and the transfer of their divine power to…"

  Ros raised his hand.

  "Let's avoid the quest theatrics. We all know each other here, as far as I see.

  The fire underneath the dom
e died down. All that remained were three spheres of molten metal, glimmering dimly. One of them said, in the voice of the Emperor of the West:

  "You have completed the final stage."

  "Not quite, as far as I can see. The quest has not been completed."

  "You need to make a choice. Either your companions will summon the departed gods, or you leave things just as they are, but gain the status of a deity. The doors are open; it's time to make your choice."

  "So there'll be no one superior to me?"

  "None in this world."

  "You were right to have bet on me. The choice is obvious. Tangh, Danger Babe, and Thyri: please approach these spheres. This is a meaningless ritual, but we need to follow it, or the game mechanics may refuse to accept an action that deviates from the protocol and the gods will never become gods."

  "You refuse divinity?" asked Thyri with some surprise. "Didn't you say the choice was obvious?"

  "I don't like obvious solutions, which must be why I managed to reach this place at all. So, come on, gather round."

  Tangh nodded.

  "If I understand it correctly, Ros would kill the Second World if he became a god. The gaming would end. They would shut down the servers and try to start everything from scratch. So everything's just the way it should be."

  "But what will prevent them from doing it once these spheres," Danger Babe pointed at the dome, "get full control of all laws and rules?"

  "They are the very ones who will prevent it," Ros answered.