Stay on the Wing

by Michael Atamanov

  "Irene works a floor above me in the medical center as a nurse with the ambulance team. In her free time, she sometimes comes down to gossip. Her younger brother is a lookout for the Grave Worms. He first tried getting information on you through his sister, but there was nothing in the medical center database. Then, Irene pointed her brother to me. According to their gang rules, if a person helps them track down someone in their debt, they get a portion of the loot. Irene was counting on this — she said it was a very large amount of money, and she'd give me a good bonus for it."

  Everything became extremely clear to me. I had to leave immediately — the gang had a very nasty way of dealing with those in their debt. A former neighbor of ours had both his legs broken a year ago, because he hid some of the income from selling his pictures. They left him with his hands intact, though, so he could keep working and pay up faster. And another neighbor, who owned a second-hand clothing store, refused to pay protection money and was burned alive in her shop.

  "Val, let's get out of here! Make sure to bring the survey with you, though!"

  Leaving the woman tied up, we hurried to the door. I took a belated look around for security cameras, but didn't see them in the office, on the stairs, or in the hallway. Good — that meant my attack on the woman must have gone unnoticed by security, and we still had a chance to leave in peace. My sister screamed out in fear when she saw the plump lady lying unconscious on the stairway landing. Yeah, it was pretty rough, but I had to do it. I had no regrets.

  It took a long time, and was very uncomfortable to get down the stairs in the wheelchair, so Val called the elevator. At the same time, I looked out the hallway window. And it was good that I guessed to do that — down the street, there was a jeep racing our way covered with skulls and graffiti and lacking windows or doors. There as a grand total of ten people in the vehicle, riding on the seats, standing on the running boards, and even clinging to the roof. With a horrible screech of the brakes, the car came to a stop, and the bandits poured out holding chains, brass knuckles and knives. The gang immediately ran into the building.

  The elevator reached our floor and its doors opened, but getting into it now would be suicide. We had to stick to the stairs, and we’d have to go up, given that our pursuers would be coming from below! Damn, Vals' wheelchair weighed around forty kilograms all on its own, and I had to carry my sister in it, as well! Lifting the load with massive effort, I took a heavy step up.

  "Leave the wheelchair, Timothy! Leave it, or we'll never get out of here!"

  With a nod to my sister, I took Val in my arms, kicking the chair down the stairs — let them think we went down to the third floor. Here, my gaze caught on the unconscious lady’s keyring. The car! It was probably parked somewhere nearby the building or was in the building's underground lot. That was our path to freedom. Obviously, running away down the street with my sister in my arms would have been impossible. I bent down, grabbed the keys from the floor and hurried up the stairs. When I got there, I saw that the elevator had already started moving — the criminals had pressed the button on the first floor.

  On the fifth floor, there was a medical clinic. The on-duty doctor was a decrepit old geezer. He had a tablet on his knees and was talking to a friend of his over a social network app. He only tore his eyes from the screen for a few seconds, leading his surprised gaze over me, but didn't stop. Perhaps, he figured I was dropping off an emergency patient, or something like that. I hurried to the end of the hallway — as far as I remembered from when I was waiting for my sister, there was a service elevator there.

  There really was an elevator there, but the buttons didn't work. Damn! The last thing I needed! But the light over the elevator door lit up. Somehow, it had worked anyway. I looked at the keys I'd taken from the nurse. One of them, as it turned out, was to unlock the elevator. The doors parted ways at a positively comatose pace. After familiarizing myself with the various buttons on the panel, I chose the underground garage. The elevator doors also closed very, very slowly.

  "Where'd they run off to?!" I heard far-off cries at the other end of the hallway but, just then, the door closed and the elevator started unhurriedly downward.

  There were twenty or so cars in the underground lot. I pressed the button on the fob, hoping it would activate one of them. And it did — the headlights flashed on the front of the ambulance. Oof, now I'd be arrested for stealing a medical vehicle! But those distant problems could not stop me now, as I had more substantive ones close at hand. I set Val on the front seat next to the driver, threw a white hospital gown over her shoulders and fastened the seatbelt.

  The ambulance raced to the garage exit. I even purposely turned on the siren so the guard would rush to raise the gate and wouldn't look at us too long. It worked! To the howling of the siren, the ambulance flew out of the garage and started a course for the center of the metropolis.

  * * *

  What should we do now? Call the police? Sure, and be instantly arrested for attacking a human services worker, adding to that violence and the ambulance theft? How could I ever prove that my actions were forced, if all their evidence came from one very frightened woman tied to a chair? She'd tell the police a totally different story, and when her friend came to, she'd confirm that some badly-behaved man had attacked and beaten them, stolen their property and taken the ambulance.

  No, calling the police was not the way out of my situation. But what should I do, then? Probably, for a start, I should try to get rid of the flashy mode of transportation as quickly as possible. Let's say I did that, what could I do from there with my legless sister? Hold her in my arms? We'd be too obvious, and where could we even go? The taxi option also fell through — both the police and gangsters would be searching for us, and the first thing they would do would be to ask transport companies about clients originating in this area, and would soon figure out where the taxi driver had brought the man and his legless sister.

  We needed a reliable person with a car who could take Val and I home. I ran through a list of old friends and college buddies in my head, as well as former clan members from Kingdoms of Sword and Magic, and even ex-girlfriends. Either I was a bad friend, or there was some other reason, but I couldn't think of anyone who'd help Valeria and I out, then be guaranteed not to talk. Maybe I should try my new friends Leon and Max Sochnier? But Leon didn't have his own car, and I absolutely did not want to have him find some third party to bring Val and I home. We were left with Max Sochnier.

  According to an ancient Eastern wisdom, friends can be divided into three categories: one can be trusted with money, the other with your wife (or sister in my case), and a third to hide a dead body. And only the friend who fell under all three categories could be considered truly reliable and trustworthy for this matter. I knew only one such person. I thought about it and chuckled: I'd already entrusted Max Sochnier with money. Val would clearly not be harassed by my French friend, and all that remained was finding out about "hiding bodies" (or in my case, helping me get away from the racketeers and police at the same time). But... Max Sochnier didn't answer any of my calls — he must have been in Boundless Realm. What a shame...

  There was only one more person in my list, a woman, though this option I had left for the most extreme circumstance. I was, naturally, thinking of Kira. The red-headed beauty tried to avoid notoriety in her life. She was a mystery even to her closest friends. Kira had quite a bit to lose, and she had absolutely no need for trouble with the police so, I really had no idea how the girl would react to my request for help. Kira might easily have agreed to help. But she could also not only refuse, but also demand that my sister and I immediately leave the apartment so no one would associate her with law-breakers. But there was nothing to be done. I had to take the risk and dial the beautiful red-head's number.

  Kira answered the call almost immediately and with reproach in her voice. She was asking why I'd forgotten about her and not called for two days. But when I told her about my problem, the girl's reaction w
as unexpected.

  "How much is the social aid that you and your sister get each month? I mean, that is what made you go down there, right?"

  I answered honestly that it was eighteen credits a month. Kira took a heavy sigh.

  "Timothy, is your head alright? You know perfectly well that a ton of people are searching for you, and with quite unkind intentions at that. I already told you to disappear and just sit quieter than water and lower than grass, especially for the first two weeks. There's a million-credit prize riding on this horse. And now you’re telling me that you revealed information about yourself, and risked your health as well as that of your sister all over eighteen credits a month?! If you have such a severe need for money, you could have just told me! I would have sent you however much you needed on the spot. And if you're so scrupulous that you wouldn't have accepted it as a gift, I could have loaned you the money!"

  From just a purely financial point of view, my sister and my actions really did look extremely weird and hard to explain. I tried to argue that the reason for our visit to the social center wasn't only to do with maintaining her stipend, but also to update my sister's documents after we moved so everything would stay above board.

  "And, did you update the documents? Has your situation improved, legally speaking?" Kira quipped, but immediately changed her tone to business-like. "Alright, don't answer. I already understand everything. I cannot come now — I'm currently at the opening of a new designer clothing collection. In fact, I'm on the opposite side of the globe from you. I hope you understand. It isn't that I really care that much about all these dress orders and the fashion lovers around me. It's just that it would take me at least four hours to get to you. But I'll send the head of my security and his guys. I'll give them your number now. They'll get in touch with you and explain what to do. That's all. Good luck!"

  Kira hung up. Not even a minute later, I got a call from an unknown number. A raspy man's voice said:

  "We've determined your coordinates via your phone. Everything is okay. We’re not far away. At the next intersection, turn right toward the square. There, turn off the siren and find somewhere to pull over. Do not leave the vehicle. Lock the doors and sit inside. Don't open up for anyone. Not even cops. We'll be there in twelve minutes."

  * * *

  It was already dark, but I was in no rush to get to work today — I'd finished my required eight daily hours in Boundless Realm this morning and, now, I was recommended not to go outside until the situation was cleared up. So, Val and I were sitting in the apartment on the 333rd floor, eating delivery pizza and playing around with all the functions of her sophisticated new wheelchair. My sister had chosen the model she wanted herself in an online store and ordered it for immediate delivery. I, then, paid all the expenses. A call to my cell phone tore us away from testing the autopilot mode. I picked up my phone. On the screen was the number of Kira's head of security. Finally, some news!

  "Timothy, I wanted to tell you that everything turned out just fine. We returned the ambulance. No one even missed it. We left the keys in the vehicle. All the prints were scrubbed. We carefully checked with our connections — no calls came into the police about the medical center. All's quiet. The police are definitely not searching for you. All the same, I hope greatly that this story with the bandits will teach you to be more careful in the future."

  I felt like a heavy stone had been lifted from my shoulders. I wanted to scream in elation at the top of my lungs, which is exactly what I did, surprising and even slightly frightening Val. The man on the line laughed, sharing my joy. I thanked him for the help, promised to be more careful in the future and hung up. My mood was just amazing. I couldn't see anything else standing between me and playing Boundless Realm, so I started off to work.

  Fifteen minutes later, I was already flying up the marble staircase in front of the corporation's building. I made it past security and hurried to the elevators. I walked up near my game cabin, 4-16A, and, as I was taking out the electronic key, a call from an unknown number caught me off guard.

  "Finally, you're in the building, Timothy! This is Andrei Soloviev, head of in-game security. You might remember me — we once talked in the office of the director of special projects. To be honest, I’m pretty sick of waiting for you at this point — it's almost ten in the evening, and you just wouldn't show up..."

  Of course I remembered the light-haired strong-man. He had cold attentive eyes and a sharp analytic mind. Honestly, being in his company made me feel very uncomfortable, even though I had no sins to be worried about at that time. It was just that he had a prim and proper army bearing, so he just reeked of danger and even death. I had no doubt whatsoever that Andrei Soloviev had killed people before. What did he want from me? I immediately grew restless inside.

  "Timothy, a very important person would like to have a talk with you. Go to elevator eleven. I'm unblocking it now. Go up to the seventy-seventh floor. I'll meet you there and accompany you."

  Intriguing beginning to a work shift! I returned to the elevators and looked for the usually inactive elevator eleven which, unlike the other fragmented elevators, shot straight through the entire Boundless Realm skyscraper. Now, the elevator was working, and its doors instantly split as soon as I pressed the button. The high-speed elevator shot up like a bullet. My ears even popped. Literally ten seconds later, I was already there.

  Andrei Soloviev was awaiting me at the exit from elevator, but instead of a greeting, he asked me to put my arms out to the sides, and took a multi-functional scanner or detector from a holster on his belt and led it along my body.

  "Just standard procedure," the security man said in a irrefutable tone. "The security guards normally check guests, but the lady let them go early today so, I have to do it myself, even though it's not in my job description. Everything is fine. Follow after me. Don't keep her waiting."

  Her? That said, I'd already seen enough to realize that. The whole seventy-seventh floor was one huge stylish office, and its occupant was now up on a little ladder feeding the bright tropical fish in a huge aquarium. She was a lady of average height, her age somewhere "over fifty." She had on a dark blue business suit, black stilettos, and a number of gold rings with huge gems. The lady's ashen-gray hair was pulled up in a tight bun on the back of her head. If she dyed it, no one would guess she was over forty. But she preferred not to hide her age.

  "Walk into the small room, Timothy. You can sit in any of the chairs. I'm finishing up now, then I'll come in."

  Andrei Soloviev pointed me into the next room, enclosed with thick transparent walls. In it, there were two dozen chairs spread out around a huge touch-screen table. I took the first chair I came across and, trying not to show my confusion, started searching this room and the next one over in an attempt to discover a placard showing the name or title of this gray-haired lady. I didn't find a thing, though.

  Seven minutes later, she entered the room, wiping her hands with a wetnap as she walked. Then, with an accurate flick, she sent the rumpled napkin right into a trashcan halfway across the room.

  "I hope you didn't have to wait too long," the woman said, sitting opposite me and starting to stare at me unabashedly. "So then, you're the corporate tester that's stirred up so much trouble! Somehow, I imagined you quite different — small, nimble, crafty. Like a goblin!"

  I smiled at the joke, but I could barely believe that this lady had taken the pains to open my personal file before the conversation. I mean, it did have a picture in it.

  "Alright, let's get right to business," said the woman, her voice instantly changed from warm-hearted to cold as sharp steel. "All day, I've been trying to figure out where this whole confusing story started. It seems someone promised the players a wyvern-shaped token. All the departments are pointing the finger at one another, and no one wants to take responsibility. Be frank with me, Timothy, which of our employees told you about this? Your boss Mark Tobius? Or was it someone else?"

  The gray-haired woman looked me se
verely right in the eye, demanding a fast and honest answer. Well, it took them a while, but they got me... I now felt like a rabbit just about to be eaten by a boa constrictor. But still, I found the force in myself not to avert my gaze. I answered in a voice no less calm than before:

  "No one told me about the token. I thought of it myself."

  "What do you mean? Why?!" exclaimed both people in the room nearly at the same time.

  "Because this whole story with the hunt for the wyvern looked poorly thought-out, like a quick and dirty hasty, botched event. Like, if my Amra had been found yesterday or today, and the medallion had dropped, that would have been it — all the fanfare about drawing players out of the boring cities into the mysterious and unknown world would have fizzled out just like that! The wyvern hunt would go down in the collective memory as nothing more than a reminder that a successful player could be deprived of a valuable trophy at any minute just because of envious losers raising a ruckus on the forum. So then I decided, as long as the company itself wouldn’t, I should try to remedy the situation with my video. I tried to find a way for the Boundless Realm Corporation to save face, both raising player interest in the event and redirecting their activity in a positive direction. And I also gave the players an extra stimulus to finally leave the cities — for the whole length of the event, experience loss is reduced. It's the perfect time to explore!"

  When I finished my long emotional speech, Andrei Soloviev and the unknown lady spent some time in silence. Finally, the woman said with a nervous smirk:

  "I really don't even know what to say... I have to admit, I wasn't expecting such a simple answer to the riddle of the wyvern token!"

  Either the security head said something quietly to the lady, or showed her with a gesture I missed, but she began speaking hurriedly:

  "No, no! There's nothing to punish Timothy for — he was just doing his job, warming the interest of the players in the hunt for the flying mount. And Timothy has some very sound ideas. I like it."