Polyglot

by D Richardson

  The overhead lights pulsed red, crew members shuffled back to their seats in a hurry. "Report!" the captain ordered. "Are we under attack?"

  "No sir," a young crewman said. "We're picking up a divergence signal." He jolted back, his chair rocked over, his hands thrust on the screen in front of him. "My god, it's..."

  "It's what, Davis?" the captain yelled.

  Crewman Davis turned to him, the color drained from his face. He ripped off his vanity glasses, and his mouth fell open. "It's nothing like we've ever seen before."

  "Where... is it coming from?"

  "The signal," First Mate Janice said, "is coming from inside the ship."

  "My god..." The captain stared a thousand lightyears away, goosebumps racing up his arms and chills down his back. "The lady... in white."

  A snap rang out through the ship. Systems and engines whirled to sleep. The lights flickered off. The holographs faded away. Darkness came with the silence of space, and the dreadnaught was dead adrift.

  ***

  "Husky Nine, I'm down. I'm sorry, buddy. It's all up to you now." Over the radio, the static fuzzed and rattled and popped. Then silence.

  Husky Nine sat in the quiet, the faint rumbling and blips of the instrument panel keeping him company. He took a deep breath behind his pilot's mask and stared at the photo pinned at the dashboard - his wife and kid. To him, it felt like centuries since he seen them last, but it was only a few months since his deployment. Right? But it wouldn't matter anymore. A few kilometers behind him trailed a squadron of players - F-16s that were hungry for a kill, and a kill was likely what they would get.

  Husky Nine's F-35 was better, faster, stronger in every way to the players' jets, but now it was full of holes in the wings that whistled in the rushing air. Turning was sluggish. Ammo was low. Fuel was almost empty. Was this truly the end of the Ace of Morocco?

  Something slammed and rocked the aircraft, shocking him. Was he hit? He turned in his seat to check his left. Beyond the still-intact wing, the deep blue Atlantic stared back. He checked his right - brown and white mountains over the Moroccan landscape - yet the wing still held. Did something break? Certainly nothing important, otherwise he'd be spinning into the sea or engulfed in a flame. He felt his neck hairs stand up on end. Someone was watching him. Goosebumps. Cold sweats. A skipped heartbeat. He turned as well as he could while strapped into his seat and looked straight behind.

  A woman peered back.

  He squealed like a child at the sight.

  Hair whipping against the air, white dress pulling in the wind, yet stationary as if her feet were glued to the top of his plane - traveling just under a thousand kilometers an hour. Impossible, he thought.

  Husky Nine looked forward and stared into his gauges in disbelief. This was just a bad dream, right? Maybe a hallucination, a specter, a ghost? He steeled himself, cooled his breathing, and eased his head to double check.

  She smiled back.

  He panicked and rocked the plane to throw her off, then immediately felt guilty over it. Maybe she was stuck there the entire time? No way, impossible. But even if she were, throwing her off a plane at this altitude would be unbecoming of a gentleman. He turned back to see her still there, tilting her head at him in a puzzling gaze.

  His skin crawled as if a spider was on his back that he couldn't reach. This ghost was apparently going to haunt him until his final moments as the Last Knight of Morocco, certainly come to take his soul after he dies in a blaze of glory.

  The radio crackled to life. "Stop runnin' ya lil shit."

  "You're the last one for this mission," another voice said.

  "Guys just rush him so I can log after this."

  The players, they were called, the mysterious squadrons hired as freelancers by his enemies who had come to take away his homeland and his life. The electronic HUD blipped into life and pulsed a beeping alarm. The ghost will just have to wait, for the last ace wouldn't be going without a fight.

  Huskey Nine banked hard to the left and shot out his flares. The missile screamed by, a trail of fire and smoke pulling away with the wind. He turned hard, struggling against the incredible G-force, and aimed his wounded jet at the incoming squadron. This would be his Alamo, his final stand. He took a deep breath, glanced at the ghost sitting cross-legged behind him on the roof of the plane, and hardened his resolve. When the firing solution clicked on with tapping beeps, he pulled the trigger.

  Click.

  Nothing. His last missile didn't fire. The fighting spirit drained from him. The squadron raced closer, distant flashes beneath their wings. A dozen sidewinders and his flares were spent. This was the end.

  He closed his eyes.

  A flash, a rumble. Then silence. He took a sharp breath, still alive, and ripped open his eyes to find the plane intact, cutting through the fiery smoke and back into the blue. The jet pulsed with a faint green light.

  The radio screamed back at him. "What the fuck?"

  "Yo are you getting this?"

  "Someone screenshot these Sonic an' Tails lookin' fuckers!"

  He wasn't sure what happened. He looked back at the girl. She was whispering something, aiming her open palms at his wings. The holes faded away, the scorch marks peeling off in dust. Something blinked into existence in front of her - a bow made of pure, golden light - and she snatched it.

  Was it an angel, a demon? It no longer mattered. He marveled at the sight of her as she nocked a heavenly arrow and aimed it at a distant jet.

  The Last Knight of Morocco wasn't done just yet, and now he's made a friend with a heroic spirit. He eased his plane into a turn and met them again.

  ***

  Alexander stood on the balcony overlooking the palace gardens. The cool air was welcome against the sweat of his brow, the fruits of a hard morning drilling with his companion cavalry. He took a deep breath and basked in the sunlight.

  Sandals tapped along the stone tiles at the doorway. Armor rattled. "Excuse me, my king."

  Alexander turned to see his retainer, a helpful young man, and two palace guards - spears in hand and masked with Greek helmets. "What is it, Dareios?"

  He bowed his head slightly, wearing a polite smile. "We have brought the Magi, as you requested."

  Alexander's eyes lit up. "Great. Bring them in."

  The audience room was awash with natural light that bled in through the wispy curtains. The entire place felt to have been carved out of pristine marble, even the couches and seats were white. A royal table engraved with mythical designs, plants and flowers in every corner, statues and carvings and works of art in laden gold. Alexander lounged in his seat as he awaited his guests. The doors clacked and echoed across the high ceilings, a chorus of footsteps announcing their presence ahead of time.

  They rounded the corner and his eyes feasted upon the sight of them. A lady in a white dress. A strange... man, probably, who stood in an olive-green suit, a bizarre helmet that resembled an insect masking his face. Beside him a few others in different, yet still odd uniforms. Some marked by shining gold emblems or decorative fringes, others by silly hats or war paint. Some only wore a crown and the robes of foreign princes or queens. Excitement raced through him. "The magi," he resounded. "Please, come and tell me of yourselves."

  They filtered through wordlessly and found their places in the seats, some obviously shaken at the sight of wonderous Greek architecture, others marveled with childlike eyes.

  "It is my understanding," Alexander said, "that you are all from distant lands. My soldiers meant no harm in approaching you, and please understand that the... events that transpired were mere miscommunications." He looked into the eyes of his guests and gave them a warm smile. "Rest assured that you will be treated well within my kingdom."

  "Thank you," the woman said.

  "Of course!" he bellowed. "Certainly you know of myself and my conquests, you have heard of my deeds and my power."

  She nodded and smiled. "Alexander the Great."

  The honor of hearin
g his title, even reaching so far into their mystical realms brought him immense joy. Her words caressed his heart, and he wanted to pound the table in excitement. He roared back and laughed without restraint. "Wonderful! Have you come to share a prophecy? Mayhaps you bring word of distant nations? What brings the magi into my domain?"

  "An alliance," she said, "between worlds."

  Chapter 49

  Echoes Travel Far

  leetboi7: This is horseshit.

  blackfang: You can't log in either?

  leetboi7: Nobody can. In anything. All of the games are down.

  blackfang: Shiiiit dude. I wanted to grind out the last few levels. Is it maintenance on the probe?

  leetboi7: Idk. I hear the devs can't even get in.

  blackfang: Dude, you don't think the probe went rogue, do you?

  leetboi7: No way man.

  blackfang: Ok. I just checked. The only game online is that fantasy one with the weird name.

  leetboi7: Oh that one? I think they call it the otherworld or something.

  blackfang: Is it any good?

  leetboi7: No dude, it's shit. I hear the whole game is broken and unfinished.

  blackfang: haha dude let's do it.

  leetboi7: fuck no.

  blackfang: I literally just got off work, and I need to kill something. let's just try it dude. come oooooon.

  leetboi7: Fine. But I bet I'll hate it.

  ***

  jwhite: Does anybody know what's up with the Otherworld?

  red22: It was down for a week, but now it’s back up. Are you bugged?

  jwhite: Yeah. I'm not logging in where I left off. And my skills are out of whack.

  red22: Your sensory load also high? Mine keeps resetting to max.

  jwhite: It is. I can't even hard change it in the settings.

  red22: I mean I don't mind it, but it's a bit unnerving. I'm really too spooked to try anything.

  jwhite: Well I'd fucking love to do something, but I'm locked in this field in the middle of nowhere. A bunch of us are.

  red22: Everyone is. Even people who are coming in from other games. They're not even spawning in the starter zones.

  jwhite: For fuck's sake.

  red22: I think it'll be fixed soon. They have MESA guys talking with the probe to get it fixed.

  jwhite: The hell would that solve? The only thing the probe knows how to do is build more servers.

  red22: It's the only thing they can do. The backdoor keys aren't working.

  ***

  thicc_chest: Hey did you hear about that glitch in the survival game I was playing in?

  lavaGirl: Which one?

  thicc_chest: The game where you build colonies and stuff.

  lavaGirl: What glitch I mean? There's been a ton of glitches all across the MVVR.

  thicc_chest: We had an npc come in and wreck the place.

  lavaGirl: White dress, long hair?

  thicc_chest: Yeah, did you hear about it?

  lavaGirl: Everyone has. There are pics and videos of her glitching around in the other games.

  thicc_chest: Oh shit.

  lavaGirl: They're saying it might be the probe itself, but some are saying that the probe locked the games to quarantine her.

  thicc_chest: Pretty sure it wouldn't be the probe. Someone probably hacked in, and the probe is just patching it up. Isn't that the whole point of the thing?

  lavaGirl: The probe is just supposed to protect the garden. Beyond that it does whatever.

  ***

  winterfox: World event?

  monty: Yeah did you see it? The forums keep spamming it and everyone is hyped as hell.

  winterfox: I haven't played anything all week with the games down.

  monty: Okay, here's the thing. It's being held in the otherworld.

  winterfox: I thought that game was incomplete.

  monty: There's no developer, yeah. Everyone is saying that it's being organized by the people of the game, but no one knows for sure.

  winterfox: People? You mean the NPCs?

  monty: Whatever, it doesn't matter. Literally everybody is gonna show up. Like hundreds of thousands of players. Just log in with me this weekend so we can fight like heroes. We get max levels and skills for the event.

  winterfox: Yeah, sure, but why would they bring us to level cap just for an event?

  monty: We're gonna fight the world raid boss.

  ***

  I grinned and tossed the tablet aside, letting it vanish. Word was spreading fast in the player forums, threads upon threads of people bitching about the games, speculation on the mystery, hype over the coming battle. Soon, they would taste defeat, and we would all be making history.

  From my vantage point on the mountaintop, I could see the players out in the distant steppes - hundreds of kilometers of open, flat ground in either direction. They were locked within a magic barrier, quarantined with the new levels and skills I had crafted for them, entertaining themselves with duels and games for the last few days before the event. They only had a few square kilometers of freedom here, but since this was the only game I allowed them in, there were countless.

  The sun was setting, the sky a portrait of violet and pink, the wind welcome against our faces.

  "Well?" a voice said. It was Yun. He and the other seekers, my faithful servants for centuries, stood around dutifully, some sitting on rocks and ledges to share the sight.

  "Soon." I wanted so terribly to apologize to him, to apologize to all of them about Willow, but my newfound attitude and her absence told them all they needed to know. If anything, they carried themselves with even more pride when the realization came to them, as if the truest unspoken duty among them had been fulfilled. "Everything on my end is according to plan," I said. "I just need the other side taken care of."

  Heavy footsteps cracked across the dirt and pebbles behind me. It was Huge Guy, shirtless as usual, a stern look in his eyes and a faint smile beneath his mustache. "I have to know, I think we all do - who are you?"

  "God."

  Boot-hat man burst into laughter. Yun cursed at himself, shaking his head and slapping at his knee. I was oddly confused at the reaction until I saw him toss Boot-hat man a pouch of coins in defeat. "Called it!" Boot-hat man cheered as he caught it. He patted me on the back with redness in his face. "Knew it all along, buddy!"

  My ears were hot. "I’m just the developer of this world. Nothing amazing."

  "Then it’s true," Huge Man said. He stared into the distance, eyes tracing the clouds. "This world is a simulation. For too long I rejected the idea, chasing the dream that maybe the players were really from another dimension." He took a deep, somber breath. "Maybe I was hoping more than anything that my life was real."

  "It is real," I said. "We live, we breath, we think, therefore we are. And besides, there's also no guarantee that their world isn't a simulation either."

  He smiled as he took it in.

  A static beep caught me by surprise. It was coming from one of my Seekers. She held her ear close to guard against the wind and nodded, then whispered back. She turned to me. "They're ready, ma'am."

  I willed into existence a portal. It spawned beside me, ripping and snapping open a hole to the President's office. The President jumped back at the noise and the sight, then smiled when he saw me. "Hey! The queen!"

  "Hello."

  He waved a stack of papers at me. "Hey, uh, I got some work for ya. Administration of the newly acquired provinces." He shuffled through. "And, uh, some royal marriage proposals."

  I grimaced. "I'll come back to that. I have something that I—"

  Before I could finish, a blur leaped out of the portal and slammed against me. Arms coated in metal wrapped across my back and squeezed me tight. Hair pressed against my face that smelt of strawberries. It was Simone.

  "Alex!" she cried out. "Where have you been?" Tae and Relce laughed as they stepped through. "We heard nothing for an entire week!" she complained.

  Tae answered for her,
staring at me with a sly smile. "She's been busy. In the other worlds."

  I grunted against her bearhug. "It's been eventful." I waved away the portal and the beckoning president.

  Simone dropped me to my feet, then zipped over to Tae to aggressively ruffle his hair. "Ugh, why didn't you tell us if you knew?"

  He laughed with glee against her, trying and failing to swat her away. "You didn't ask." Her playful fury increased tenfold, and now she was pulling at his cheeks. The mountaintop was filled with laughter and smiles.

  Relce glanced at the Seekers around. "Dude, where's Willow?"

  As if he had struck a bell to summon the silence, the cheerful mood died as soon as it came. The quiet returned, the wind blew. My eyes fell to my feet, but my resolve didn't waver. I stared up at him, then at the others. "She gave her life so that I may remember."

  He furrowed his brow. "I don't get it."

  "The same way we learn magic by taking in scrolls," I explained, "I combined my power with hers to look further beyond within myself." I stared into him, past him as if his soul stood a thousand yards behind. "I know who I was, who I am now."

  “Willow’s… gone?” Simone said, her eyes watering over. “I’m so sorry, Alex.”

  “Don’t be,” I stopped her. “She had given me everything I needed. I’ll bring her back one day. I promise.”

  “Is that something you can do?”

  “I’ll find a way,” I said.

  “So you know who you are now.” Relce stared down at me, his face serious, his long mustache swaying in the wind. "You're the developer, aren’t you?"

  "Son of a bitch," Yun grunted. He hurled another pouch of coins that slammed into Relce's chest.

  Relce grinned at me, then threw finger guns back at Yun.

  Simone gazed with empty eyes and a frown. "Then it's true," she said softly. "But that means... you're dead."

  I snorted. "I feel pretty far from being dead."