by Jason Segel
I swipe the edge of my knife across the man’s throat. The cut isn’t deep enough to kill him. I watch the blood bubble up from inside.
“You shouldn’t have come here on your own.” My victim’s lips haven’t moved. There must be someone else in the tent. I glance up to see a man in an old-fashioned checked suit standing over me. With a single thrust to the jugular, I deliver the death blow to my prisoner. He slips from my lap, and his avatar flashes and disappears. When he arrives at the gates of Imra, the virus will dispose of him for good. I’ve done my duty. I just wish I’d had more time to savor it.
“Leave Otherworld now,” the Kishka orders. “Let your friends finish this work.”
“I’m not done,” I tell him. “There are still killers here.” I’ve been traveling the realms for several Otherworld days. By my count I’ve dispatched 732 avatars. I’m sure the viruses have taken down just as many. But that means there could be hundreds of guests left.
“Let someone else take over.”
“No,” I tell him. “I won’t put the others at risk.”
“You’re the one who’s at risk, Simon.” It’s the first time he’s ever called me by my name—and the first time he’s seemed so serious. “You’ve lost the plot, son.”
What I’ve done is stopped listening. There’s something happening outside the tent. The landscape is shifting. The sand dunes are losing their soft, rounded curves. They’re forming right angles and building towers. I hear a car honking and the rumble of a train under my feet. Otherworld and the real world are blending again.
“I gotta go,” I tell him.
“Go back to New York. Remember who you are.”
“I didn’t want to come here in the first place!” I shout. “Now shut the hell up and let me finish what I have to do!” I send my dagger sailing in the Kishka’s direction. He vanishes before it hits.
I yank my knife out of the bark of a tree, take the amulet in my hand and move on.
* * *
—
I’m suddenly standing knee-deep in muck. I look all around. I know exactly where I am, but I have no idea why I’m here. This isn’t where I asked to go. I grasp the amulet again, but before I can leave, I see them. There are two avatars here—giants with bulging muscles. They’ve tweaked their camo to better suit their surroundings, but I have no trouble recognizing them. One of them is the avatar Alexei shot the first time I saw him. The other is the guy who was eaten by the beast that lurched out of the water.
They’re staking out the hut where Alexei’s girlfriend lives. They’ve come back for revenge and they’re planning an ambush. They won’t find Alexei today—we still have his headset, and I took back the disk he’d borrowed. But there’s no telling what they’ll do to the Child inside. The door of the hut opens as if on cue and the female exits. She’s as lovely as the last time I saw her.
I watch as the two avatars share a silent look. The smiles on their faces make it clear that they’re out for blood. When the Child disappears back into the building, they begin to wade toward her. Something stirs in me. Something I haven’t felt since I set off on my quest.
The situation isn’t optimal, but I can’t delay. I pull out a gun and send a bullet through one of them. His avatar flashes; then he turns to face me as the second one dives for cover.
“You must be another friend of the freaks,” the guest snarls at me. I don’t even answer. I just shoot. The avatar disappears, but before I can turn my attention to the next guest, there’s a spray of blood and a searing pain in my hand. My gun goes flying and vanishes in the swamp. I’ve been hit. My right hand has been rendered useless. I’m suddenly exposed. I have no place to hide and no weapon to defend myself—not even my fists.
When the next shot comes, I expect to die. Two more shots quickly follow, but I’m still alive. I look up to see that my adversary has vanished. Someone else has eliminated him. A man in gray coveralls steps around the corner of the shack, his weapon out.
“That was close, my friend,” Alexei remarks.
“What are you doing here?” I groan. He must have bought a new headset.
“I’ve come to stay,” he says. He’s wearing the same coveralls he always wore, and his hair is parted in exactly the same place. But he seems different somehow.
“Come.” He waves me forward. “Let’s tend to your wound.”
I wade to the house and climb up to the porch. When I glance back, I can see the trail of blood I’ve left in the water. I can only imagine what kind of beast it might attract. I stick close to the wall, away from the railing, as I make my way toward the Russian.
“My dear,” he calls into the house, “bring me something to bandage a hand.” Soon the Child emerges with a strip of fabric. She gives Alexei a kiss, all the while eyeing me carefully. I’ve been here before, but she still doesn’t like me. The moment Alexei begins wrapping the cloth around my injured hand, she disappears into the shack they share.
“Unless you want your new headset destroyed, you should leave,” I tell Alexei. “The virus has been released. There are copies searching for guests throughout Otherworld.”
I expect him to be furious, but he isn’t. “I’m not wearing a headset.”
“Then how—” I start to say.
“I signed over my shares to the Company. In exchange for a capsule and a debugged disk.”
“That’s impossible. They couldn’t have debugged the disk so quickly.”
“They’d already made their breakthrough,” Alexei tells me. “But Wayne didn’t want to share the information with anyone but me. He called as soon as you left the boardroom.”
My heart sinks. I don’t know why I feel so betrayed when I should never have trusted Alexei in the first place. If I still had the use of my hand, I’d pummel his face with it. “You didn’t even wait for us to bring James Ogubu to you.”
“No,” he admits. “I was never convinced you could find him. I’ve had my best investigators searching, and they haven’t been able to uncover a trace of the man.”
“So you were planning to screw us over one way or another,” I say.
Alexei laughs like it’s all a big joke. “Don’t be bitter, my friend. Your efforts will be rewarded. The disk and capsule weren’t the only things I requested. I have the young boy you’ve been trying to rescue. He was delivered to my house. I asked for the other one as well, but I’m afraid—”
“He’s dead.”
“Yes,” Alexei confirms. “I also procured a copy of the Company’s latest product. OtherEarth, I believe it’s called. It’s yours if you want it.”
As happy as I am to hear about Gorog, I’m still furious with Alexei. “You could have gotten all of that without stabbing us in the back. If you’d just given us enough time, you could have had your disk and taken over the Company.”
Alexei finishes wrapping my hand. He leans back against the railing. I suppose he’s not scared of the monsters lurking below. “Do you know how I spent my time while I was waiting for my disk to arrive? I watched the news. Have you noticed that the world has become a very strange place lately?”
No kidding. “I’ve been too busy to watch television,” I grumble.
“There have been several mysterious deaths of late. Men discovered in locked rooms or bathroom stalls. If you had connections inside the NYPD as I do, you’d know there’s a detail that’s been covered up. The men were all found wearing identical glasses—and there were strange plastic disks on the back of their skulls.”
I feel myself shiver, though it’s stiflingly hot in the swamp. “OtherEarth,” I say.
“Precisely. Would you like to hear my personal theory? I think the Company gave these men the product. Perhaps they were men the Company wanted to dispose of—or those they considered expendable. It would make perfect sense, would it not? The Company needed people to test the new Ot
herEarth disks.”
“But how could the Company keep the tests a secret?” I ask. “The guys who died weren’t locked up in capsules. They were out walking the streets of New York.”
“Yes, they were men with careers and children and wives. I suspect they were using the disks in ways that wouldn’t be acceptable to their employers or families. If word got out, they had more to lose than the Company did.”
“You’re saying the Company has dirt on them.”
“Certainly,” says Alexei. “In Russia, we call it kompromat. We never make deals without it.”
“Why are you telling me this?” I ask. “What do you care if the Company’s been killing people?” I’m sure Alexei is responsible for more deaths than the disk. It’s hard to believe he’s suddenly located his conscience.
“I don’t care at all. But I have the first debugged disk, and I don’t want anyone else to have one,” he says. “The truth about OtherEarth should help you destroy the Company. If the Company is destroyed, there will be no more disks. What’s good for me is good for everyone.”
Of course. Everything must meet that first requirement.
“But what matters most is that it’s good for him. Is that correct, Alexei?” I almost wonder if I’ve spoken out loud, but the voice has come from behind me.
“Fons.” The Russian smiles as he turns to face his old protégé. “Welcome back. All is forgiven.” I see his hand moving toward the gun tucked in his waistband, and I know he’s lying.
Fons is the closest thing to a zombie that I’ve encountered in Otherworld. I have no idea how he made it from Karamojo to the swamp. His wounds haven’t been treated. Strips of my cloak are still wrapped around his leg, but they’re soaked through with blood. As far as I can tell, he’s completely unarmed.
“How can all be forgiven?” Fons asks. “I don’t remember forgiving you. You let us all think that you were a hero. But when you had a chance to save the Children you chose to serve yourself first.”
“And look at how everything turned out.” Alexei spreads his arms wide. “Why bicker when we’ve all gotten what we want? I’ve just been informed that the virus has been released. The other guests will soon be gone. The Children can live in peace and harmony. I promise to be a benevolent god.”
I feel my eyebrow lift. That last bit is not going to go over well.
“You are not a god,” Fons spits. “You may be immortal in this world, but you aren’t in your own. Someday you will die too, and the Children of Otherworld will celebrate.”
“You are mistaken, my friend. I have conquered death,” Alexei tells him. “My memories have been uploaded into this avatar. Even when my body dies in the world I was born into, I will continue to live in this one.”
“That’s not possible,” I blurt out. “The tech doesn’t exist.”
“Six months ago, you would have said the same of Otherworld,” Alexei tells me.
Fons limps toward Alexei. I’d love to take a few minutes to think it all through, but the situation here is rapidly deteriorating.
“I’ve made sure that my kind knows the truth about you,” Fons says. “I’ve traveled from wasteland to wasteland telling all who will listen that you were willing to let us die. No one will worship you, Alexei. You’ll be shunned, left alone in this hut to rot.”
I hope it’s true, but I suspect it isn’t. Alexei’s jolly laugh indicates that he sees no chance of that happening anytime soon.
“I’m afraid you’re wrong again, dear Fons,” Alexei informs him. “Those who speak out against me will be killed. If I must, I will fill the cages in Karamojo with my enemies. Then I will hunt them down one by one and enjoy myself thoroughly.”
“Every being in Otherworld will hate you as much as I do,” Fons says.
Alexei sighs. “A god does not need to be loved to be worshiped. He needs only to be all-powerful. I can kill and yet I cannot be killed. Lesser beings will have no choice but to bow before me. You have the honor of being the first to do so, my friend.”
“I will never bow down,” Fons says.
“Then I will have to force you.” Alexei lifts his gun and shoots three times in a row. The sound is so deafening that I can’t hear the splash Fons makes when he falls from the porch, into the water below.
I dive into the swamp at the spot where I saw him go under. My eyes are open, but I see nothing. My arms sweep through the murky water, and the fingertips of my injured hand brush up against something scaly. Something that feels impossibly large. Then it’s gone, sending waves through the water that push me into another creature about my size. I take hold of the body and drag it to the surface. It’s Fons, and though I’m almost positive he’s dead, I haul his limp carcass over to the ladder that leads up to the porch.
“Leave his corpse in the swamp,” Alexei orders me.
“What?” It seems too callous, even for a man like Alexei. “Fons loved you and looked up to you. He thought of you as a father, and you betrayed him. The least you could do for him is give his body a proper burial.”
“Why waste the effort?” Alexei says. “He’s computer-generated.”
“And me? What am I?” It’s the female Child, her voice trembling and her face grim.
“Magia.” It’s the first time I’ve heard her name leave Alexei’s mouth.
“I heard everything, Alexei. Will you hunt me down if you grow bored with me? If I die, will you push me off the dock too?”
The guilt on the Russian’s face takes me by surprise. It’s as though he’s been caught committing the worst possible crime. There’s justice even here in Otherworld.
“Never,” Alexei croaks. “I love you. You’re the reason I’m here.” I know it’s the truth. Why would he lie? If he didn’t love her, he could easily trade her for another. But this Child is special. Whatever they had, Alexei has just destroyed it.
“I don’t believe in you anymore,” she tells him, and I realize that she too has a gun in her hand. She lifts it until the muzzle is pointed directly at Alexei’s heart.
“Magia.” He tries to cajole her. “This is ridiculous. You can’t kill me.”
“I know. But I will settle for making you suffer.” She fires.
I see Alexei fall. I wait for him to get back to his feet, but the seconds tick by and he still hasn’t moved. Finally I have no choice but to let go of Fons’s corpse. By the time I’ve climbed the ladder to the porch, his body has been reclaimed by the waters.
I find Alexei lying face-up on the wooden floor. Magia, pale and heartbroken, has thrown her gun into the swamp and knelt beside Alexei’s avatar. I stand over her, silent and dripping. I know something’s gone wrong. A trickle of blood is coming from the side of Alexei’s mouth. It runs down his cheek and begins to pool on the ground.
He’s dying. Suddenly everything makes sense. The Company cheated him. The disk they gave him wasn’t safe at all. They knew they were sending Alexei off to his death. Wayne probably handed over Gorog so Alexei would trust him. I’m sure he plans to reclaim his guinea pig once Alexei is gone.
Damn, what a dick move—even for someone like Wayne.
Magia rests her head against Alexei’s chest and tries to hold back the blood that’s pouring out of him. “You told me you were immortal,” she sobs.
“They said I was,” Alexei gurgles. “They told me I’d feel things but I wouldn’t be able to die.”
I close my eyes. I can’t bear to see anymore. He believed the Company. He swallowed all their bullshit hook, line and sinker. One of the most notorious men in the world heard exactly what he wanted to hear and believed every word of it. There’s suddenly no doubt in my mind. Alexei Semenov is not long for this world—or any other.
I kneel down beside the wounded avatar. “Just in case something happens to you, what should I do?” I don’t want to insult him while he’s on the verge of dea
th, but I feel it’s my duty to ask.
Alexei’s head rolls to the side. When he coughs, the blood splatters the floor beside him. He wipes his lips with his fingers and holds them up where he can see. He must have watched men die before. I’m sure he knows exactly what that means.
“A man in my position must be prepared for any outcome,” he tells me. “Go to my house. Tell my men you’ve come for your things. They’ll know what I left for you. Use my gifts well. Make the Company pay for what they’ve done.”
My hand looks normal to the naked eye, but it’s as useless in New York City as it was in Otherworld. I doubt it was my injury that made my friends insist that I couldn’t return. I think they saw in my eyes that real damage had been done. I’m not sure I’m getting much better. Whatever darkness was inside me in Otherworld is still there. I can feel it—slithering through my veins and coiling around my organs like a serpent.
At first Kat refused to leave me, but the others convinced her there was no other choice. She and Elvis had to go back to Otherworld to finish the job I started—the job I failed to complete. I reminded them that they’d first have to free Elvis’s avatar. Cutting it out of the web the spider Child used to immobilize him couldn’t have been easy. But there are no easy jobs to be had these days.
I’m obviously in no condition to visit Alexei Semenov’s house, but I have to retrieve my inheritance. Busara wanted to come with me, but I refused to allow it. I shouted at her, which I’ll admit wasn’t necessary. I couldn’t stop myself. I’ve just come back from a world where I could kill anyone who challenged me. I don’t know how long it will be before I’m human again. In fact, I’m starting to worry I’ll be stuck this way. Maybe I’m like that dude from The Fly. I got into the wrong machine and now I’m transforming into a monster.
Once I tamped down my temper, I tried to explain to Busara that I have no idea what to expect when I get to Alexei’s. If the Russian set me up, she and I would both be goners. With my good hand out of commission, I’m unable to defend myself. And Busara’s nobody’s idea of a bodyguard. It’s best if only one of us dies.