OtherEarth

by Jason Segel

  I can only imagine what he’s alluding to. “I’m sorry,” I say. I shouldn’t have. Alexei Semenov doesn’t want my sympathy.

  “For what?” he snaps. “If you’d had anything to do with this, you’d be dead by now. Devising ways to punish my enemies is now a favorite pastime of mine. So what do you say, gentlemen? Let’s get to the point. My friend Fons tells me you two have a proposition for me. What is it?”

  “We need an Otherworld headset,” Elvis tells him. “You’re the only person we know of who has one.”

  “That doesn’t sound like a proposition,” says Alexei. “It sounds like a favor. I don’t grant favors. Especially to people who look like they can do nothing for me in return.”

  “But we can,” I say. “Didn’t Fons tell you? If you let us borrow your gear, we will eliminate all of the other players. You can save the Children and have Otherworld all to yourself.”

  “Even if you were capable of such a thing, why would you imagine that’s what I would want?” Alexei asks.

  “I don’t understand,” I say, feeling a bit flummoxed. “Fons told us—”

  Alexei wades over to the edge of the pool and motions for us to step forward, as if he wants to tell us a secret. “I have been a very bad man,” he says once we’re closer. “Just look at me. People would not have done this if I’d been a nice guy. So you know what I decided to do when I got to Otherworld? I decided I would try to be good. Give it a shot. See if I like it. And you know what?”

  I figured the question was rhetorical, but he seems to be waiting for an answer. “What?” I ask.

  “It’s amazing! I’m telling you—it makes me feel all warm and happy inside. The Children call me their savior. I go around rescuing them from hunting parties and bounty hunters and all the others who are there to slaughter them. And in return, you know what they do?”

  This time Elvis does the honors. “What?”

  “They love me! No, they worship me. I’m telling you, gentlemen, it’s the greatest feeling I’ve ever experienced.”

  Alexei steps back from the edge of the pool as though he’s said his piece.

  I glance over at Elvis. I can see he’s just as confused. “Okay, but I still don’t get it,” I tell Alexei. “You like saving Children. We have a way to save them all. I’m not sure what the problem is.”

  “The problem is—what am I supposed to do once all the Children are safe?” He smirks at the expression on my face. “Please, Mr. Eaton. Spare me the sanctimony. It’s a game, after all, is it not? I pay great sums of money to be entertained. If there’s no one left to fight in Otherworld, I’ll be bored to tears.”

  “But the Children—” Elvis starts to argue.

  “Why would the Children love me if they no longer need me?” Alexei says.

  “And Fons?”

  “Isn’t he wonderful?” Alexei says. “Such a great character. Milo Yolkin is a genius. I couldn’t have designed a better sidekick myself.”

  I remember the love with which Fons spoke about Alexei, and I hope he never hears Alexei talk about him.

  “So is that it?” Alexei asks us, but this time he doesn’t wait for an answer. “Thank you both for coming!” he says, and then he calls out in Russian to the men waiting outside the room.

  “What the hell?” Elvis cries. His face is ashen. Whatever order Alexei issued in Russian, Elvis understood it, and given the fact that he looks like he’s about to shit himself, I’m willing to bet it wasn’t good. “He just told them to kill us,” he helpfully confirms.

  Four men in pale blue scrubs enter the room. “I am sorry,” says the Russian. “Please do not take it personally. But I am afraid no one is allowed to see me like this. There would be blood in the water if word got out. If you had come to me with something interesting, I might have taken the risk. But Fons already told me that this virus exists. Why would I let it be set free and put my own headset at risk? You didn’t think of that, did you?”

  I didn’t. “We could find a way—” I start to say.

  Alexei shrugs. “Don’t bother looking. The virus is nothing that I need right now.”

  “Wait!” Inspiration strikes as a pair of men come toward me. “There is something else we can offer you. Something that will keep you very entertained.” I glance over at Elvis and tap the back of my skull. He nods.

  Alexei is intrigued. He lifts a finger and his men come to a halt. “What can you two possibly give me?” he asks. “Otherworld is all that I need.”

  “We can give you your life back,” I say.

  “More importantly, we can give you your dick back,” Elvis says. I’m not sure if it’s his will to live or the little man-to-man we had earlier, but apparently he’ll say just about anything to walk out of here with a headset.

  Alexei snarls as if Elvis just made a sick joke. “And how do you propose to do that?”

  “The headset you use lets you see Otherworld. But the Company has been working on a brand-new technology,” I explain. “A disk that allows you to experience virtual realms with all five senses. If you’re wearing a disk, you can taste, smell, feel—”

  “Screw.” Elvis completes the list. “Think of how entertaining that will be.”

  A long silence follows. Then the Russian waves his men away, and they file out of the room. We’ve definitely got Alexei’s attention. “I don’t believe it,” he says. “If such a device existed, the Company would be shouting about it from the rooftops.”

  “They can’t,” Elvis says. “There’s a bug. Right now, the disk can kill you. When you die in Otherworld, you die in the real world too.”

  Alexei snorts and throws up his hands. “Then why would I want to wear it?” he demands.

  “We know someone who can fix the disk.” I don’t bother to mention that he’s currently trapped in a virtual ice cave that could collapse and kill him at any moment, but I figure Fons has already told Alexei that also.

  “And?” Alexei asks.

  “We’ll rescue him and have him build a safe disk. And we’ll make sure only one of them ever gets made. No one but you will be able to experience Otherworld the way it was intended.” I should shut the hell up now. I don’t even know if what I’m promising is possible.

  Alexei is quiet as he ponders the possibilities. “You can prove that everything you’ve told me about this disk is true?”

  “Absolutely,” I tell him. “How would you like to take a little trip?”

  The rest of the mansion may look like a branch of the CDC, but Alexei Semenov likes to sleep in style. If I melted down all the gold leaf in his bedroom, I could live like a rock star for the rest of my life. I see Elvis’s eyes wandering the room, and I know he’s thinking the very same thing. I just hope he doesn’t get tempted to indulge any Robin Hood fantasies after Alexei and I set off on our journey.

  The Russian has been sitting on the bed watching television while we get everything set up. He does seem to be easily bored. He flips through the channels until he lands on a report about a man who was recently found dead in a Manhattan hotel room. The coroner’s report said that the man’s internal organs showed signs of damage that suggested he’d been badly beaten. But no one else had been inside the room. Not only was the hotel room door locked, footage from the security camera in the hallway proved the victim had been alone the night he died.

  Elvis and I are in the process of moving a bureau in front of Alexei’s bedroom door when our host glances in our direction.

  “Don’t get any ideas. If you murder me, my men will flay you alive,” Alexei announces calmly.

  “I wouldn’t expect any less of them,” I reply as we finish the job. “Is your bladder empty?” I can’t believe I’m asking a Russian gangster if he needs to pee.

  Alexei opens his robe and points to a plastic bag strapped to his waist that contains a few tablespoons of bright yello
w liquid. I also get a glimpse of a few things that are even more disturbing. “My bladder is fine,” he tells me. I think he enjoys my discomfort.

  I produce the two sets of disks and visors that I brought to the mansion in case they were needed. Alexei looks down at them with disdain. “That is it? There is no other gear?”

  “The visor lets you see and hear Otherworld, just like your headset would. The disk will engage your other senses.”

  “No.” Alexei shakes his head and flicks one of the disks with his fingers. “This is some kind of joke.”

  I choose to ignore him. “In a second I’m going to stick one of these disks to the back of your skull,” I say. Thankfully, he no longer has any hair to shave. “You’ve been in the game before, so the disk should replicate your avatar and put you right back where it was the last time you left Otherworld. Where were you, by the way?”

  “None of your business,” the Russian growls.

  Whatever. “I’ll find out soon enough,” I tell him. “I’ll be wearing what we call the master disk. It’s linked to yours. It will allow me to locate you no matter where you are.”

  “Why do I need you following me around?” Alexei asks. “This will not be my first time in Otherworld.”

  “I’d trust him, if I were you,” Elvis advises Alexei. “I didn’t think I’d need any help either. Then Simon saved my ass in the first five minutes.”

  “I left my avatar in the safest of places,” Alexei argues. “I will not need any help.”

  “There are no safe places in Otherworld now,” I point out.

  Semenov snorts with annoyance through the hole in his face where his nose used to be. He isn’t used to taking no for an answer. “Maybe I will call my guards and have them take you away while I go on my own.”

  “Sure, you could do that,” I tell him. “But I think you’re far too smart to do something so stupid. You don’t want to screw this up, Alexei.”

  The Russian glares at me, as if deciding whether I deserve to die for my insubordination. Then he smiles. His teeth are still perfect and pearly white, which makes the expression indescribably chilling.

  “Fine,” he says. He sits down on the bed and bends his head forward, exposing the base of his skull. “Put the damn thing on.”

  * * *

  —

  I arrive in Otherworld and immediately place my hand on the amulet that hangs from my avatar’s neck. The world around me dissolves. Suddenly I’m somewhere dimly lit and warm. There are wooden floorboards under my feet and pale green curtains hanging in the windows. I’d call the place cozy if it weren’t for the female screaming at the top of her lungs. I pull out my dagger. Alexei must be nearby. God only knows what he’s doing to the female he’s brought here.

  “It’s okay. It’s okay,” I hear him say softly. I turn and see two figures together in bed. “I know who he is. I invited him.”

  The screaming stops. Alexei’s avatar has the female in his arms, and she’s peeking at me from over his shoulder. She’s lovely, with long silver hair and green eyes that glow like a cat’s in the dark. I struggle to keep the shock off my face. Alexei’s girlfriend is one of the Children.

  “You invited a guest here, Alexei?” she chides him. “What were you thinking?”

  Alexei doesn’t answer. I don’t think he’s able. His head is buried in the female’s hair and his hands are gently stroking her back. He’s smelling and feeling her skin for the very first time. Within a few seconds his avatar begins to convulse. The Russian gangster is sobbing like a child.

  “What is it, Alexei?” the female asks. “What’s wrong?”

  I search for the room’s exit and locate it behind me. “I’ll be outside,” I say, but I’m pretty sure neither one of them is listening.

  * * *

  —

  The house is little more than a shack, but it’s well cared for and filled with lovely little touches and furnishings that appear handmade. I step out onto a porch. Alexei’s home is one of the structures in the swamp between Imra and Nemi that Kat and I stumbled across on our way to meet Wayne. There are three little huts here, all built atop stilts. The swamp that surrounds me appears deserted, but I know there are creatures around. I hear them croaking and calling and scratching at the bark of the cypresslike trees. There’s a loud splash in the water below, and I wonder how big the frogs get here in Otherworld. Then I remember the beast that snatched an avatar off this very porch, and I step back from the railing until my back rests against the cabin’s wall.

  I smell smoke and realize there’s someone already here. He’s been waiting for me.

  “How about that? A man just got his life back. Goddamn beautiful, wasn’t it?” The Kishka is standing beside me, a cigarette in his hand. The smoke curls up from it like a cobra rising from a snake charmer’s basket. He takes a drag and sends a cloud floating out over the water.

  The Kishka’s right. I was truly touched. It’s hard to believe that the same man almost ordered my death. A couple of hours ago, I wouldn’t have guessed there was a heart inside Alexei’s mangled body. It wasn’t until we came to Otherworld that I had any proof he was human.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” my dead grandfather says. Of course he does. He’s inside my head. “You’re thinking this is what those disk thingies should be used for. Am I right? To help people like that fucked-up Russki in there?”

  I can tell from the tone of the Kishka’s voice that he doesn’t exactly agree. “Why not?” I argue. “If Ogubu finds a way to fix the disk—”

  “You still think the disk is the only problem?” the Kishka asks, walking over to the railing. “The human brain wasn’t built to go back and forth between worlds. Come over here, boy. Have a look.”

  I join him at the railing and peer down at the water. It’s a frothy brown that seems all too familiar, and it smells a lot like human shit. There’s something swollen and white bobbing along at the bottom. I can’t see it clearly, but somehow I know it’s a body with its feet encased in concrete blocks. I blink and it’s gone. The water’s still murky, but it’s now your standard swamp green. There’s a fish of some sort swimming past. My worlds are colliding and I’m dizzy and scared.

  “Things are going off the rails,” the Kishka confirms. “You need to get out of this place. And stay away from that Russian while you’re at it.”

  “I can’t,” I say. “Not yet. Besides, what’s the issue with Alexei? You saw him in there with that Child. I know he’s an asshole, but he can’t be completely evil.”

  The Kishka looks at me with a raised eyebrow that seems to suggest I might be mentally challenged. “Evil? No, he’s not evil. Your friend Wayne is evil. This guy’s desperate, Simon. And if I had to choose between them, I’d go with evil every time. Mark my words. There’s nothing more dangerous than a desperate man.”

  I sense movement inside. I check over my shoulder, through the window behind me, and see Alexei heading my way. The Kishka is already gone.

  “What’s that smell?” Alexei asks when he appears on the porch. His avatar is dressed in the gray coveralls he always wears, and his black hair is neatly parted on one side. Alexei was a handsome man. In Otherworld, I suppose he still is.

  “Smell?” I ask.

  “Something was burning.” He lifts his nose and sniffs the air. “It smells like tobacco.”

  Oh God, he smells it too. I have no idea what that means. “I wasn’t smoking,” I tell him. “Do you think there might be someone else here?”

  Alexei scans the swamp around us. “No alarms have sounded. We should be fine.”

  “Alarms?” I ask him.

  “You think I would leave my avatar here without a security system in place? There are Children all around us. I protect them, they protect me.”

  “You mean you kill guests and the Children worship you. Isn’t that the game you�
�ve been playing?”

  Alexei ignores my comment. “You may use the headset,” he informs me. “It will be yours for good as soon as I get the new disk.”

  My ears suddenly detect a faint, rhythmic splashing in the distance, like the raising and lowering of oars. There’s a boat coming toward us. Alexei must hear it too. He disappears into the house and returns quickly with a scope, which he puts up to one eye.

  “Our friend Fons is on his way,” he announces. I suppose it shouldn’t come as a surprise. Fons knew we would both be here. “And it looks like he has brought me a guest. Our kind must be growing on him. Fons usually kills all the guests he encounters. And I must say, he dispatches them in the most imaginative ways.”

  “Where did you meet him?” I ask. I can now see the tiny boat on the horizon. Fons appears to be the craft’s passenger. A large man has the oars, and the vessel is making its way toward us with impressive speed.

  “I saved Fons when he was very young,” Alexei tells me. “I’d heard about the hunts in Karamojo and I went to see what all the fuss was about. When I got there, I was disgusted. Muscular avatars shooting Children with Kalashnikovs? Where’s the sport in that? It’s like using bazookas to kill khomyak.”

  “Khomyak?”

  “Yes, what do you call them in America?” Alexei pauses and taps his temple. “Hamsters, I think? In Russia they live in the wild, but only little boys ever hunt them. These guests are weaklings, I thought, killing unarmed khomyak. So I massacred all of them. Afterward, the Children greeted me as their savior, which amused me. There was one Child among them—a clever little creature with a tentacle for a tail. I was able to adopt him as a companion. He’s grown fast since then, and he’s served me well. I never expected to be so entertained by a computer-generated sidekick.”

  Those last few words feel like a sucker punch. I was actually starting to like Alexei. Then he had to remind me that the badass vigilante hero who travels around Otherworld saving Children just sees them as part of the game. As far as Alexei’s concerned, Fons exists only for his amusement.