“What if someone at Snowstorm gives up the location of Alex’s capsule?” Pollyanna asked thoughtfully. Ed’s little sister sometimes expressed thoughts beyond her years.
“If that happens…” Maria started, but shut up when she realized she was answering a child.
Hairo looked at Willy, wiio nodded and spoke:
“We’d better split up. I can take Pollyanna, Ed and Malik to another safehouse. There’s no point in them staving here. Too risky. We’ll keep a connection open through me.”
“I’m staving!” Malik quickly spoke up.
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “Willy is right. Better not risk it. If something happens… There have to be people left that will tell the world what went on.”
Willy Brizuela was soon flying away with Ed, Malik and the girl on an ancient flyer pulled from an underground garage. Ed was going only for his sister’s safety. It was easy to see how badly he wanted to stay.
Barely keeping myself upright, I managed to reach my bed—metal, hard, painful even to lie on. Hung snored in the bed opposite. The last thing I saw before I closed my eyes was Roj van Garderen, sitting on guard by the window. I was out as soon as my head touched the pillow.
* * *
I woke up from a noise outside, in the lounge. Short and broken sounds, like someone spitting several times. Silence… Then spitting again. A moan cut short, a cry.
It was pitch black in the room because of the darkened window glass. It could have been morning already. I raised my head, but the noises stopped. Barely visible in the darkness, Roj put a finger to his lips, then silently walked toward the door, pistol at the ready.
“Did you hear that?” Hung asked in a whisper and turned to the bodyguards. “Was someone coughing?”
Roj shook his head and gestured for him to hide under the bed. Then the closed door flew off its hinges. A grenade clattered into the room, spinning across the floor. I heard fumbling, rustling and ‘coughing,’ the sound of a body falling, but before then, the room was filled with a blinding light. I could feel my ears bleeding, but couldn’t do anything. My whole body was spasming and pain shot through my tongue as I bit it… I went limp, paralyzed.
“Cargo found,” I heard as if through cotton wool. “Extraction.”
“Confirming extraction.”
Something lightly touched me by the hand. The world faded into darkness.
After waking up, I thought I must be in Dis: the same dark cell, with walls around me and shackles on my legs. Only when I tried to move did I realize that I was lying on something like an operating table or dentist’s chair, strapped down firmly. I heard the light hum of some equipment from the side. And a whine, at first infrequent, then speeding up to a heartbeat. The back of my head pounded, my temples felt like they were splitting.
“Awake?” I heard from my left. A man’s voice dripping with false sympathy. I narrowed my eyes, but couldn’t make anything out. “You won’t see me, don’t sweat it.”
“Who are you?” I tried to ask, barely able to move my tongue. It sounded more like “u a u”, but they got the message.
“Oh, that doesn’t matter at all. If it wasn’t me, it would be someone else. Sooner or later, this had to happen.”
“What have you done with my friends?” I tried to say. It came out as a groan that I had to repeat a few times until the man understood me.
“There was collateral damage. That’s all you need to know. You made a mistake when you got close to them. You put their lives in danger.”
“Who… did you hurt?”
“You’ll find out in due course. I’m not a fan of empty chatter, so I’ll get right down to business. We have your parents. Do what I say and they will be released. Don’t do what I say… Well, that’s your choice. Do you think the game is worth such precious candles?”
“What do you want?”
The question was dumb and came out as a slur, but the man puzzled out what I was asking.
“How can you be eliminated?”
“Scyth can’t be killed.”
“That’s impossible. Sometimes balance in Dis leans too far one way or the other, but the main AI would never create a situation in which a player becomes one-hundred-percent invulnerable. What is your Achilles’ heel? Don’t make me hurt you…”
The voice sounded calm, even jovial, but I broke into a sweat. I heard anticipation in it— come on, lie or refuse to answer!
“When there’s another Legate of the Destroying Plague nearby, Immortality doesn’t work.”
“Well, well. Very interesting! And where do we get another legate? Or how do we become one?”
“There are no other legates. The lich was killed. The Nucleus of the Destroying Plague appoints legates.”
“So that’s how it is…” the speaker said thoughtfully. “And where do we find this Destroying Plague?”
“Nucleus. Nucleus of the Destroying Plague. It’s somewhere underground, beneath Holdest.” I answered, then asked a question that I couldn’t get out of my head: “How did you find us?”
“I know you’re honest, so I’ll be honest with you, although I could lie. No, there were no traitors among you. That bothers you the most, I can tell. The people you hired are dead. All of them.”
“Then how?”
“Oh, Alex, why these childish questions? It is impossible to hide on this planet in the second half of the twenty-first century. You were followed from the very beginning, when you took off from the school roof to the excited applause of your classmates. Tracked by satellite when necessary, so none of your flyer swap-outs confused anyone. And when you hid yourselves, several people watched you run to the lake as soon as the satellite identification system activated. You hid your face, but when you leaned over the water to splash your face, the reflection gave you away.”
“I see.”
“Now you’ll tell me how I can reach the Nucleus. But first…”
An injection in my forearm. Heat spread through my veins, burning so badly that I wanted to cut off my arm.
The man kept talking, explaining what exactly I needed to do in Dis when I got back there. Where to go, who to surrender to. Apparently, these people were unaware that the Widowmakers had kidnapped Scyth—maybe everyone just went their separate ways after the auction, and the goblins didn’t announce the disappearance of the item’s owner. I had no time to think it all over. I felt my eyes drifting inexorably shut, my mind sinking into the mist…
“I can’t. My character is locked in the Widowmakers’ castle,” I whispered, fearing if I didn’t carry out their demands, someone else could get hurt.
“They’ll let you go,” the man said with confidence.
I fell into nothingness.
Voices whispered from all around: The Gnoll Riverlands…, Go alone…, Find the Frozen Gorge…
I felt rested and energized when I woke up. The straps had been released.
“Awake, Alex? Good morning!” The voice was a woman’s. A cute nurse in a gown helped me get up. “Breakfast, a shower, and then you’re expected in Dis.”
“By whom?” I asked, hoping she’d name a name.
“You know. Come on, kiddo, don’t make them wait. You’re a good boy, aren’t you?”
The login to Dis was instantaneous. Eileen appeared outside the cell right away, as if she’d been waiting. The dark elf girl took off my chains, unblocked my abilities.
“What now?” I asked.
“Nothing. Go. They’re expecting you.”
I asked who, and got nothing again. Then I disguised myself as Blackberry and used Depths Teleportation to leave the basement. Straight to Darant, and from there to the Gnoll Riverlands. Next, everything was in fog—tears stung my eyes and I was as if watching myself from outside, not in control of my body. I hurried so that it would all be over sooner. I hoped that my parents and friends were still alive.
I was indeed expected in the Frozen Gorge. People with hidden names led me inside, their hooded faces shrouded in mist.
They put me in the center of a pentagram and performed a ritual, cutting off the presence of the Sleeping Gods and the Destroying Plague. The icons of my divine abilities didn’t just turn gray; they disappeared. Axes and blades fell down on me, until the last, a dagger in my heart: “I expel you from Disgardium forever!”
A thunderstrike boomed beneath the arches of the cave. The world went out and I found myself in a great abyss.
The history of Scyth, Legate of the Destroying Plague and Initial of the Sleeping Gods, was ended.
Now what mattered to me was how the story of Alex Sheppard would end.
* * *
I found myself in gloom again. My character’s final death had probably thrown me out of Dis. I tried to reach the handles of the capsule to climb out, but my hand hit a wall. I listened, heard nothing.
Slowly rising, I turned my head and saw a barely visible strip of light on the floor. The comm that was gone before w^as back on my wrist again, and I immediately turned on the device’s flashlight. A narrow room, darkened windows, a cupboard, a bed with a crunched-up comforter… I was back in the shelter in Alaska! Was it all just a nightmare? Or did they put me back where they found me now that they had what they needed? If any of what I’d seen was a dream, then which parts?
In any case, nothing held me back now. I was free. I jumped up, ran over to the door. It opened as I ran, nearly hitting me in the face. Hung stood in the threshold. Alive!
“Good morning. Why the face?!” my friend asked. I couldn’t believe I was seeing him. “Did you have a nightmare? So did I. Come on, get dressed, there’s news from Yemi.”
“Wait! Is everyone alive?”
“Not counting my dead back, absolutely. And everyone’s waiting for you. Well, except Willy, Ed, Malik and Pollyanna, they’re already elsewhere.” After saying that nonsense, Hung stretched up, nibbed his neck. “Damn uncomfortable bed, don’t you think…?”
Everyone was fine. Willy let us know that they’d reached their destination and gotten settled in, but Ed and Malik would be without Dis until the move to Cali Bottom.
Maria Saar was making breakfast. Sergei Yuferov was still monitoring the sky and checking each flyer that came within twenty miles of the shelter. Yoshihiru Uematsu worked on upgrading the holographic camouflage—ordinary aerial observation would see nothing but forest here.
In spite of the unsolved problem of Scyth’s imprisonment, I was in a good mood. The dream had seemed so real! I felt as if I’d been through it all in real life; the capture, the conversation with the strange man, the deaths of my loved ones… Sure, I hadn’t seen anyone killed, but I’d felt the pain of loss and grief. Naturally, I shared the details of the nightmare with the security officers. They listened carefully, but it was clear by their hidden smiles that things weren’t so bad.”
“Do you know how to tell a dream from reality?” Hairo asked. “No, you can’t pinch yourself. We don’t control our bodies when we sleep. A dream that you can control is very rare.”
“How, then?” I asked.
“It’s very simple. Inconsistencies.” Hairo started counting off on his fingers. “Remember the place where we changed flyers. A covered civilian parking garage with constant traffic. Hundreds of cars arriving and taking off every minute. There’s no way they could have tracked us by satellite. The second—supposedly the reflection of your face in the water of the lake. You didn’t approach the water. At all.”
“I didn’t? I remember… Oh, right! I only washed at home. I remember how the sweat hurt my eyes when we ran from the lake.
“Right. And the last thing. You didn’t take off your holomask until you got into your capsule to give the interview. Remember, you and the boys… Yoshi gave you baseball caps that constantly change your appearance. Even if your face had reflected in the water, it wouldn’t have you been your face in the satellite imagery.”
“They wouldn’t have seen him at all,” Roj van Garderen chuckled. “The sky was cloudy then an way.”
“Bingo,” Hairo Morales finished.
After discussing my fears, we moved on to matters of Dis. Hung had news. He’d logged into the game that morning to check his mail. Yemi took my problem very seriously. As a personal matter. Apophis, the White Snake, required fewer victims than before, but still many. Fortunately, the beast god didn’t insist on individual sacrifice and was willing to change his ritual—as long as there was an altar nearby.
“Defender, increase volume!” Hairo ordered the house’s control system, looking at the holovisor.
Some press conference had come on screen. The subtitles named the speaker as Eileen Waters, leader of the Widowmakers. The woman stood at a small podium bearing the clan’s crest, a sword splitting the Earth. It was difficult to recognize Eileen in her. There was nothing elvish about her—a short chestnut bob, penciled eyes, brightly painted lips, outstanding cheekbones. We knew exactly how old she was—thirty-one—but she looked ten years younger. The only thing that showed her age was her business suit, flowing from mirror to matte black, playing with transparency and texture.
“Like a chameleon,” Maria said. “I don’t understand that idiotic fashion.”
“Quiet!” Hairo barked.
Eileen announced that I had been kidnapped and neutralized. The hall hummed. Everyone started shouting questions, demanding proof, and then a video started playing on the screen behind her back. It was me, sitting in a cell. I remembered the absolute darkness quite clearly, but the video was as if in daylight. An undead human, the highest-level player in Dis—rotting flesh, white bones, a face covered in sores and scabs, ragged hair to the shoulders, the insane grinning smile of a lipless mouth.
“Woah…” Hairo said. All the security officers looked at me. “Not the nicest looking character. Your clan’s PR guys are gonna have a tough time.”
Eileen seemed calm, but Hairo noted that she was excited, anxious; her widened pupils gave it away, along with a barely perceptible shake to her hands and a dry mouth, judging by how often she raised her glass of water to her lips. Nonetheless, the leader of the Widowmakers confidently asked questions about what the clan planned to do with my character.
“Right now, the temple of the Sleeping Gods is on the table. The lich that led the undead army is dead. The second lich, who you know as the class-A Threat, has been imprisoned. Nothing stands in the way of the Alliance of Preventers and their mission. After we’re done with that, we’ll talk about what to do with the Threat. Next question…”
After a moment’s confusion, a journalist I know spoke.
“Ian Mitchell, Disgardium Daily. Miss Waters, are you concerned that Hinterleaf, Horvac, Glyph, Colonel—that they’ll all demand that you give them Scvth?” Ian was wearing a new suit. He was fresh, clean-shaven and with a new haircut. The old news veteran looked just as good as any of his young colleagues, and only his eyes gave away his true feelings. “I doubt your young clan will dare to go up against more famous partners.”
“I suggest you save your judgments for your op-eds, Mr. Mitchell,” Eileen Waters answered. “Insinuations, assumptions, slander…
I didn’t finish watching her press conference. On the contrary, I wanted to make my escape while Eileen was occupied. And I got my chance.
While we slept, Yoruba set off a range of Plague Fury explosions in the biggest cities in the Empire, destroying their own reputation, but giving me a chance to save myself. The White Snake knew where I was, could sneak inside and pull me out. All I had to do was log into Dis. I didn’t know how the beast god determined my location while my character wasn’t in the game, but that was the last thing in my mind. Like Uncle Nick always said, don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.
Drinking down our coffee, Hung and I went into our capsules. His task was to keep watch over Tiamat’s temple and assess the situation. And to level up as much as he could in the group with the guardians.
…I was expected. I don’t mean the two guards from the Widowmakers, who raised their hackles as soon as I
returned. Maybe Apophis the White Snake had been elsewhere an instant before I logged in, but he was waiting and appeared right away.
I saw space distort, saw the walls bend as if pulled apart. I saw the guards fly off into the distance, ending up dozens of yards away. The stone floor of the cell audibly cracked and flew apart, and the gigantic snake came rippling in, first its triangular scaled head, then its long, sinuous body. Amber eyes gleamed. The snake touched me with its forked tongue, hissed.
My first priest wants me to pick you up and drop you off wherever you wish, the snake told me, not in words, but somehow straight into my head.
To Kharinza, I nearly said, but bit my tongue. The guards could hear, and… No, I had to strike back right away. This wasn’t a vengeance that could be served cold, it was necessary. The punishment had to be inexorable.
“Take me outside the castle,” I whispered.
The snake wrapped its body around mine in rings and looked into my eyes.
The space around us rippled like waves… And I found myself outside the tall castle walls. Your wish has been granted, I heard the snake hiss in my thoughts. Apophis slithered off my body and disappeared into thin air.
“I’m out. How s the temple? I asked Bomber.
Clear, my friend answered.
I activated Call of the Supreme Legate, then, without waiting for my minions to appear, took off into the air to look around. A piercing siren call sounded out from the castle. Archers and mages were forming ranks on the walls, and the corner towers flashed with purple flame. If Eileen is still at the press conference, shell have to change the subject from Scyth’s capture to his escape, I thought malevolently.
A huge pit and four more smaller circles were already filling with plague slime that began to form into the figures of my minions. The map hinted that the castle was southwest from Shak, near the Ursai Jungle. The zone was called Howling Winds Plateau and was designed for players at level three hundred. The rear of the castle itself extended into the cliff face, serving as a natural defense. Behind the cliffs was a gorge, on my side a stone shelf bereft of trees.
Holy War Page 24