The Resurrection Pact (Winston Casey Chronicles Book 1)

by Jay Smith

  None of this made sense. I thought maybe Parker set us both up to compete for the chip and maybe I was the first to get it and cash in. Perhaps I just won it fair and square. But was there truth to what she said about Parker never really intending to come with me? How could that be possible unless he didn't expect to survive his last tour?

  We entered a land of diners and grills. I hoped to find a greasy spoon soon crowded with witnesses. "Parker never told me any of that. He never mentioned you. All he said was that he and I were doing this thing together."

  "Parker knew a lot of secrets. That's why the chip was so important. It's a Legacy chip. It contained an access key to everything Park ever owned in Aeternus Online, all his physical assets in the resort. I needed you to use it because I'm banned from the resort but there was nothing to stop you from liquidating half those assets and transferring them to me out-of-world."

  I didn't fully understand that, but the key words helped put things in perspective. "See, these are things that would have been great to hear during our last meeting. Why would they pay it out if Parker's dead and we don't know their secrets?"

  "I don't know. That's what Park told me. Cash in the chip. There's a dollar value attached to it already and they are honor-bound by the code of Aeternus to pay out."

  'Cash in, DON'T cash out.' That's what the message said in the deposit box.

  "I'm done. Maybe I should have told you everything up front. It doesn't matter now."

  I didn't question her reasoning because I didn't feel she had any. "You make it sound like your life is over."

  "What am I gonna do? Get certified to sell real estate? Show mansions to people?"

  I chuckled, but didn't mention Claire. "There are worse jobs."

  "Yeah, like yours."

  She let that one hang in the air just to enjoy my reaction, like a teenage road tripper's taco fart in a closed car. I couldn't disagree, so I kept driving.

  "Man -- I thought Park really was my white knight and I would dance for him forever. He'd never marry someone like me, but that was okay. He was just part of the big lie, Winston. Now you're in it, too. They'll give you riches and dreams, then ruin you if you question what they ask."

  "Sounds more like a cult than a game."

  "And Alan Horus is its David Koresh. You're lucky you walked away. You couldn't handle the way they twist you up and get their hooks in you."

  "I've had hooks in me and been twisted up pretty good. Could you take a stab at being either angry OR miserable? You mix the two and get passive-aggressive which irritates the shit out of me."

  "God you're such a tool. You're lucky you got out. You live in this town you gotta live like you're at war. That's how Parker put it. Smart man."

  After another quick stink-eye, she unzipped her suit the whole way and changed with all the modesty of a burlesque dancer backstage. The car bounced a little as she threw on a camisole, slipped off the boots, slithered out of her suit and into a pair of yoga pants and sneakers.

  "How's Claire," she asked noticing my poorly hidden gaze.

  "Seeing a 25-year-old handyman she met while I was in the hospital."

  "Marriage," she spat.

  "How'd you get kicked out of the club?"

  "After I threw a couple fists at the one guy, it wasn't voluntary any more. I still have a game account, but I'm not allowed in the resort. That's why I wear a mask and go by the name 'Raven-chan'. And I can make a good two fifty tax free on a good night outside Excelsior!."

  "Look I'm sorry. I didn't know."

  She shrugged. "Can't be helped I guess." She didn't look at me. She kept watching the highway and then I noticed she was staring at her own reflection in the window. "I have a friend who lives in Henderson. Take the second exit up."

  On approach, Carla launched into a rambling, sometimes incoherent stream of feelings and ideas broken up occasionally by proper names and places. She started twenty years earlier and her crush on Grant Parker. He was nice to her, she said. He respected her and her dreams. He encouraged her, she said with tears and snot forming. Grant Parker knew how to respect women and treat them like people. She talked about college, about getting pregnant her freshman year and having an abortion, nights she couldn't sleep and days she was never fully awake, dancing for Russian mobsters stoned on "some kind of Kiev hash" and waking up the next day with $5,000 crammed in her purse. She mentioned casting scams and "old Jew rapists" looking for mistresses and boyfriends who liked her for her drug or professional connections and cops who would stalk and harass her especially when they knew she used.

  Carla Baron-Gugino was a terrible actor. She was vulgar and angry, broken in many ways and places but she spoke her truth. This wasn't a game.

  "When I ran into Park out here," she sobbed, "It was like Jesus found me." The Christ metaphor went on. She was his Magdalene among his disciples, second only to "God" himself – Alan Horus. She was a dancer, a fighter, an actor, an assistant…she become part of Aeternus and stopped using drugs. She leased an apartment and bought a small car with the money she brought in from Aeternus.

  She talked about making movies with other members, "fan films" she called them featuring scenes from their games and from the Aeternus books, just for fun. Some of these films became adult-oriented and Alan pushed her to be part of them. That was the start of things going bad again. Parker left the resort to do his final tour and people started turning on her. Eventually she was out of her apartment, her car repossessed and working as a dancer for a hideous beast called Dusty Canyon in the neighborhood where all the union service workers go to let off steam after long hours of being treated like scum on and around the strip.

  I didn't ask her to elaborate. It was hard enough keeping it all straight while navigating Vegas.

  All she added from her seat beyond the lost "turn right at the light" and "Left at the Circle K" was a low, mournful, "Could'a been rich, you and me. Now…whatever."

  After ten minutes on the road, we pulled up to a ranch house along an empty street under hard yellow streetlamps. Every house was the same, like my neighborhood.

  "Watch yourself, Winston," she said, gathering her things and shoving them into her backpack. "These people will eat you alive." She grabbed her big yellow cat helmet, got out and slammed the door.

  Carla said nothing to me as she left, but put herself together long enough to look me in the eye before slipping her bag over a shoulder and headed up a broken concrete sidewalk. She didn't go up to the house where we stopped. She walked past a few identical facades before darting right and disappearing between two of them.

  The heat Carla let in was dry and ugly. Stress remained, souring into exhaustion. The car stank of cigarette smoke cut by the smell of perspiration. I put the Mustang in gear and drove up, slowing as I reached the point she ran off, but she was gone.

  "She's complicated." Parker said from the back seat.

  "But you're not going to help me with that back story, are you?"

  "Please restate your destination."

  "What?"

  The dashboard GPS repeated the request through the car speakers. "Please restate your destination."

  I was alone.

  Chapter Ten

  I didn't need to talk to anyone when I arrived at the Peppermint. A valet stowed my ride. A manager approached me right inside the door and led me to an elevator, up 21 stories, turned a special key and showed me to a suite with a window overlooking the same vast stadium area I saw that morning. The perspective put me on the other side, up in the tower Huan pointed out. From my perspective, the stadium folded out into rolling wilderness with a simulated sun and clouds crossing the digital dome.

  The manager distracted me by small talk and questions I had to answer before the man left me alone. I didn't even want to find the bedroom, so I collapsed on one of three sofas; the one with the best view of fake Aeternus. The manager turned on the television before exiting suite left.

  ~

  The orientation video for Ae
ternus on the flat screen:

  Hi! My name is Ahmai Dapuli and I am an advisor for the Ministry of New Citizens! Welcome to Aeternus. Let's start off with some basic rules, okay?

  "A!" Ask questions! If you're not sure about something, be sure to ask. Those quiet brown robes you see around here are Game Referees. They not only mediate play combat but they know all the rules you need to get along here in Aeternus. No, they're not game cops. We've got actual police on staff, so if you need assistance dealing with griefing, harassment, a lost child or elder, or some other emergency, see the men in blue plate armor.

  "B!" Believe in the fantasy! Being in-character can be a challenge, but in Aeternus it is part of the fun! Research your character and escape the everyday life you lead to be the hero or villain you've always wanted. Some people like to make it up as they go along and that's GREAT! Just make sure to keep your story straight. Keep notes in your Magic Book!

  "C!" "See" the sights! Aeternus Live is alive with hidden treasures and adventures. You won't see everything in a day so take your time! Make sure to take in a tutorial on cosplay or armor design, learn the lore of the elders, or talk about your favorite scenes in the Aeternus novels with some of the experts! It's an interactive thing here in Aeternus!

  "D!" Dine at one of our five great restaurants including the Jousting House! Grub and Gruel! Tay's Meats! And new for this year is the Aelf vegetarian hall called Vingaaski's! There's something for everyone and be sure to visit the farmer's market for fresh eggs, vegetables, and other delightful feast items! More to come but first these messages:

  New for Anno Aeternum: Entire new avatar sets for men and women of all species. New to the realm? Low on Gold? Log in and check out the New Davus avatar set: it's everything you need all in one kit. A medium build, three skin tones, adventurer's hair in brown, black or silver. PLUS four outfits including a set of leather armor all for 250 gold pieces. Ladies, check out Azumai, the gossamer half-aelf princess avatar with slender build and long, lush hair in four tones. Azumai comes with six robes and dresses, each with multiple textures to fit any occasion. Visit us in-world for aelf, undermine, crog, and reptillus avatars and fashions….

  ~

  I woke up to my phone chirping. I forgot I'd set an alarm for dinner.

  Farseeker's Bar was the closest pub to the elevator. They had seimei. What they didn't have was a table. I hoped to get an idea of how adult gamers gather after dark.

  Most of the hundred or so people there came in costume. The rest were dressed like there was a photoshoot for some fashion magazine for millennials going on nearby. In my business-casual attire, I only generated a spark of interest before being completely ignored by all everyone but the staff.

  That's where I met Ezrin.

  My first impression was of a young Maureen O'Hara when she got her Irish up. She led with a strong chin that framed plump red lips on a pale canvas. Her eyes, wide and bright blue, held the kind of disdain a guilty man never wants to see from a woman he loves. Or fears. If Mistress Huan was a strong-willed woman of beauty, Ezrin was a juggernaut, defying conventional notions of beauty to show lovers of the female form what God can do when he's really on His game.

  My second: an impressive mane of red, almost copper-colored curls with an equally impressive hourglass figure. She seemed as much at home in her clingy, forest green gown as I am in a duck suit. She was not one of the whisper-thin aspiring actors from the crowd. This lady was tall and built for endurance with blue eyes that made it clear she was smarter than you so don't try anything stupid or you'd find your dirty little thoughts shoved up your filthy little asshole. It wasn't that she looked angry, but too good for the joint, too good for you. I walked through the place like it was a zoo full of alien creatures. She walked through it like a field of thick weeds. She walked with purpose and eyes on her objective. At the moment, her objective was me and her purposeful walk ended close enough that I could see the gloss on her lipstick and the clumps in her extended eyelashes. Close enough to feel the contempt she felt for me like the strain felt by the bust of her gown. I wondered what kind of man could handle it if she felt something nice about them.

  She straightened and carried herself like a soldier. Not a veteran softened by years back at home, but a woman either on active duty or recently discharged. She didn't seem nearly old enough to have retired.

  "I would speak with you, milord." The voice was low, commanding in its subordination; a hint of growl and irony in the title.

  Something about the ritual of engagement lessened the nervous tension I might have felt talking to her in the real world. "Today has not been a great day for meeting people. I'm..."

  "…Lord Wynncase. I am Ezrin Zorr. Do you know of me?"

  "Sorry, no."

  "I am reporting to you at the order of my Master Lord Bunting-upon-Stropf."

  Oh good. Another gorgeous woman with an extreme personality paying me a visit.

  I nodded as though I knew what she was talking about. "And you have reported. Would you like a drink before your monologue?"

  She seemed irritated and confused, like I was her scene partner suddenly off-script.

  "I do not understand, milord. But I will accept a drink if you require it."

  I took a hit off the square box and raised it. "It's an offer, not a requirement."

  "Then, no. Thank you, milord. I see you are new and have not had time to obtain the garb of the realm. You dress and speak strangely. From what nation do you come, milord?"

  People nearby tried hard not to look over at the two of us but it seemed as difficult as not noticing a lion preparing to dig into a twitching gazelle outside a Bennigan's in Pittsburgh. Ezrin stood over me by a few inches. Without her heels, she'd match my height and outweigh me by a toddler, but in the very best way that could be taken. I suddenly wished I didn't smell so much of bar and Vegas strip because whatever she hit herself with before approaching me was like...like the scent of Horus' gardens.

  Great adventures always begin in a tavern.

  "I hope my dress and speech do not offend, Ezrin."

  "No. I have spoken out of turn, milord. For that, I apologize." She noticed the attention on us. "Is there a better place and time to discuss my terms of service to you, milord? I would like to transition to you quickly, but discreetly."

  "Bring me up to speed, Ezrin. Lord BUS didn't mention anything to me about you."

  The loud, busy bar seemed to fall into prayer for a ten-foot circle around us. Several people abandoned their subtle voyeurism and looked on like we were dinner theater. All of them seemed to know more than I did about what was happening. Ezrin did not betray any unease

  "I am Ezrin Zorr, Queen of the Northern tribes and subject of the Realm Aeternus. As part of the treaty signed by Lord Bunting-upon-Stropf with my people, I have agreed to servitude among his courtiers. I have been assigned to you, milord."

  Assume the saké has dulled my uptake if you can't relate to the fact that I was far too naive to understand what she was saying. "For what? Mistress Huan is my advisor."

  The scene was not going well. "May I... have that drink now, milord?"

  Sensing the tiniest bit of embarrassment peeking through, I innocently asked "Would you like to go somewhere else and discuss this?"

  I thought I heard some men at the bar snicker. The bartender shook his head in disappointment. This didn't help Ezrin's mood, but she replied. "As you wish, milord. Shall we resign to your chambers?"

  I coughed on a hearty swallow, but recovered awkwardly. "I was about to sit down for dinner. Someday, anyway. How about we start there?"

  The gathered audience looked disappointed. Ezrin, however, was relieved.

  ~

  Ezrin led me to a private dining area full of free, secluded and candle-lit tables. I'd been waiting in the bar for a single spot nearly half an hour before Ezrin made her scene and I suspected the maîtres'd stalled until she could.

  The dining room offered full wench and stag service but I was adv
ised to help myself to the open bar near the empty performance stage.

  My first revelation occurred shortly after I offered Ezrin a drink and she scolded me.

  "You are not to do for me, milord. It is my duty to provide comfort, advice, and protection. If you wish it, I will prepare you a drink."

  I collapsed back into the seat. "Fine with me, Ezrin. If I ask you to drop character and talk plain..?"

  "I do not understand that request and, therefore, cannot comply."

  "People don't talk like that, Ezrin. Come on. Do all the people of your...people...talk this way?"

  "My people do not speak your language, milord. We learned it by torturing your priests into providing us lessons. We speak the language of the elders, the language and dialect I expect YOU to speak. Milord."

  "Of course. My tongue will be rusty, but I shall endeavor to honor your culture. I will drink if you will join me. Your Majesty."

  Her posture softened and she smiled, sliding out to fetch us drinks. Upon her return, I noticed she had a gin and tonic and I had a wooden cup full of seimei. "Excellent choice."

  "I was advised this is your preferred spirit."

  I raised a toast to good choices.

  "So, what would you have of me, milord?"

  "’Comfort, Advice, and Protection,’ you said. What happens if you don’t carry out that mission?"

  "If I refuse or fail to carry out this assignment, Lord Bunting-upon-Stropf may find me in violation of treaty. My brothers in prison would be executed immediately and the army of The Realm will exterminate my people. I dare not speak of my fate. It is too cruel and terrible to describe."

  "That’s…" I had to consider my role and its perspective on whatever conflict was in play. "Heavy."

  "’Heavy’, milord? As in ‘with a heavy heart you sympathize with the plight of my people’ or ‘heavy is the hand of a just ruler such as Lord Bunting-upon-Stropf’?"