Alik looked at the ceiling and tried to whistle a tune. He wasn’t very good at it: it sounded more like hissing than whistling. Or was it his ventriloquist’s way of cussing his two little helpers?
It was all irrelevant, anyway. “So how did you manage to read it, then?”
“There’s nothing to read,” she said in surprise. “There’re only two words: “employment” and “100%”. What do you do here? Is this some sort of MLM thing? Or a pyramid scheme?”
Actually, she wasn’t as old as I’d first thought. She was probably the same age as Vickie, but she looked entirely different. She appeared fatigued; she’d let herself go to seed and didn’t seem to care about how she looked anymore.
I knew this type just as well as you do: a single mother who’d sacrificed her life for the sake of her child’s happiness. Divorced and doing two or three jobs, wearing shabby clothes but sure to offer the best of everything to her son, she’d eat whatever was left and, in her rare moments of leisure, would treat herself to some candy while watching soaps and reality shows on TV — or maybe read an occasional romance book.
Whether it was her poor nutrition or not, her Health was deep in the red, just like Cyril’s used to be when he’d been diagnosed with emphysema. I might need to warn her about it.
“We’re neither,” I replied. “We really do help people find employment. If you need a job... I’m sorry, what was your name?”
“Ludmila.”
“So do you need a job, Ludmila?”
“I don’t really know. I already work in two places. I’m a school janitor and I also clean an office in the evenings. The pay is a pittance. I just can’t make it stretch no matter how hard I try. And Leo’s music lessons aren’t cheap. The little butthead doesn’t even work hard enough!” she gave her son a light slap on the back of his head.
The boy winced. She heaved a sign, fingering an old battered purse.
I studied her profile. She had a decent Cooking skill — enough to make a professional cook. So why was she cleaning toilets and floors for peanuts?
“Ludmila, what’s your profession?”
“Eh... I graduated from a cooking school.”
“And why aren’t you working in that field?”
“I used to. I had a job in a restaurant. But I had to work twelve-hours shifts and I still had to help Leo with his homework and look after him. I just can't leave him alone the whole day. And then the restaurant owner started coming on to me and when I rejected his advances he accused me of dipping my hand in the till and spread a rumor that I-” she looked at the boy and didn’t finish the sentence.
But I understood. “How much do you make now, if it’s not a secret?”
“Just don’t mention it. It’s a joke. Everything combined, it doesn’t even come to twenty thousand[22].”
“I still advise you to give up your cleaning job. You’re still young, you’ve got your whole life in front of you. And Leo is already a big lad. He can manage very well at home on his own, can’t you, Leo?”
The boy shrugged. He still held his violin in his lap, hugging it lovingly.
“Can I offer you some tea or coffee?” Alik rose behind the woman’s back and tut-tutted, scaring her to near death.
“Jesus! You frightened me. I don’t need anything, thanks.”
“As you wish,” Alik said, his best intentions visibly offended. Wherever had he picked up that sort of thing?
Out of the corner of my eye, I watched the search results in my interface as they appeared on the map according to the key phrases I’d entered: “cook wanted”, “salary starting at 30,000 rubles[23]”, “legal employment”, “Over 90% probability of hiring Ludmila Nazarenko”.
There were lots of offers — a dozen at least, so I was simply choosing the best as I was pretending to look at my laptop which served as a smoke screen for my unorthodox job-searching technique.
“Now, Ludmila,” I finally said. “I’ve got three offers for you. The pay is from thirty to fifty grand. Two of them as a chef in a restaurant and one is in a fast food joint. I’m pretty sure that with your experience, you’ll pass the interviews with flying colors. What do you think?”
“Will they hire me?”
“Of course they will!” I said, trying to infect her with my confidence. “But I need to ask you about something. Before you go for the interview, would you please leave Leo here with us and dedicate the day to yourself? Go to a salon and have your hair done, get yourself a manicure and put some makeup on. Go to the shops and find some comfortable but affordable clothes that make you feel relaxed. More importantly, something that doesn’t make you look older. Because you’re still very young.”
“Oh, I really don’t know...”
“There’s nothing to know. Just please do as I ask you, and in a couple of days you’ll be working in a good place for a good wage. Are we agreed?”
“Well... okay. Where do you want me to go?”
“I’m gonna write the addresses down for you in a moment. Could you please wait in the corridor? I’d like to talk to your son.”
“What for?”
“You see, I’m originally a child psychologist,” I lied without batting an eyelid. “I can see that you’re struggling to raise him and I might be able to help you a little.”
Luckily, she didn’t even think about asking me to show her my diploma. “Very well,” she rose heavily from her chair, her joints creaking. She stroked Leo on the head and walked out of the office, casting anxious looks at him.
The boy fidgeted in his seat, not expecting anything good from this. He very nearly jumped off his chair and ran after his mother.
I activated Lie Detection and mentally rehearsed my conversation with him, studying his profile. His Fear was at zero, his Interest in me quite high, which was a good thing.
“Leo, don’t be so nervous. Just sit there quiet and we’ll have a talk, all right?
The boy nodded.
“You practice music?” I nodded at his violin.
“Yeah.”
Lie Detection sent a surge of warmth over my body. The boy wasn’t lying.
“You like it?” I continued.
“Yeah.”
A wave of freezing cold assaulted my skin, sending shivers down my spine.
“Play something for me,” I asked.
The boy shook his head. Either he was too timid or just afraid of making a hash of it.
“Leo, I know that you don’t like it. I didn’t like it either when my pare- my mom forced me to learn music,” I lied again, promptly replacing the word ‘parents’ with ‘mom’ so that he could relate. “But I played the piano, not the violin.”
“I don’t like it, either,” he confessed, opening up. “It’s just that my mom wants me to do it.”
“And you don’t want to upset her?”
He nodded vigorously.
“I understand. What would you like to do, then?”
“I like computer games.”
“Which ones? Counter Strike?”
“No, I don’t like shooters. I like Dota.”
“Good choice. And do you know how to become good at Dota?”
“Well, I guess you need to practice and study characters’ skills and tactics,” he blurted out excitedly. “You need to watch how the top players do it...”
“That too, of course. But you need to spend a lot of time doing it. And do you really think your mom would allow you to spend so much time playing?”
“No,” his face fell. “I’m only allowed half an hour a day after I’ve done all my homework and then only when she’s in a good mood.”
“You know there’s a way you can play more, don’t you? And more importantly, play well.”
“How’s that?”
“First of all, you need to give up music. What’s the point in wasting your time doing something you’re not interested in and you’re not even good at?”
“Oh, no. My mom will freak out. I know she has to work hard to pay for my musi
c lessons,” he replied, exhibiting common sense rare in someone his age. “ I’m really trying to do my best.”
“And what if I have a word with her so that she doesn’t freak out? On the contrary, she might even be happy. What would you say to that?”
“Dunno.”
“Don’t worry, everything’s gonna be all right. There’s only one catch,” I paused and gave him a long look.
“What do you mean?”
“In order to play Dota well, you need a sharp mind and quick reactions. And if you want to improve them, you need to train your body as well. You know what I mean?” I gave him a critical once-over, studying his puny body, his scrawny neck, his large red ears and stooping back.
“Not really.”
“Do you like any kind of sports?”
He shook his head. “Nah. I’m exonerated from sports at school.”
I could see that. “And still, if you want to spend more time behind the computer and play better, you might need to take up something. How about swimming?”
“I can’t swim.”
“Then it’s a good opportunity to learn. Have you ever been to the seaside?”
“No.”
“Imagine how cool it would be when you finally go there and you know how to swim! Also, swimming will help you build up your muscles and make you stronger. Do other kids bully you at school?”
“Those morons are constantly on my case.”
“So you see? Once you get a bit of practice and become stronger, you’ll be able to fight them off. See? Any way you look at it, swimming will give you a shedload of new buffs and abilities. It’ll improve Strength and Stamina, plus you’ll be able to swim and dive. That will allow you to play Dota more and beat everyone. What do you think about that?”
Congratulations! You’ve received a new skill level!
Skill name: Power of Persuasion
Current level: 3
XP received: 500
As I closed the message, I noticed a new icon about the boy’s head: the Enthusiasm buff giving +50% to Mood, Self-Confidence, Willpower and Vigor.
Oh wow. That was a first for me. So was this how the generals of old used to buff their troops?
Leo’s eyes smoldered, his tiny fists clenched; he sat like a coiled spring, impatient to pursue the prospects opening up to him.
“Great! Then I’ll take up swimming,” his belief in his own words exuded the heat of the desert sands.
“Awesome. Gimme five,” I rose from the table and proffered my hand. Leo slapped it with his tiny mitt. “That’s it. You can call your mum back and wait out in the corridor.”
Forgetting his violin, he ran to fetch his mother while I copied the addresses of the café and the restaurants down on a piece of paper to give to Ludmila.
When she returned, I handed it to her. “I suggest you start with the first one. It’s the Golden Crown restaurant. They need a cook ASAP. They're offering fifty thousand, and that’s without frills. But there’s one ‘but’: they check all potential workers meticulously for any bad diseases. So I suggest you first go to a clinic and have a complete checkup, just in case. If they find anything, you’ll be able to treat it before you go there. That was the first thing. And secondly, please do what I asked you about. Get yourself a makeover or something. This is a respectable establishment so you’ll need to make a good first impression. Do you understand?”
“What’s there not to understand? Everything’s clear. What should I tell them? Should I mention you?”
“Yes, you can tell them that it was the Great Job Recruitment Agency that sent you. If they appear surprised, come straight to the point and tell them that you’re looking for a position as a cook and that you have all the necessary experience and training.”
“I got it, thanks,” she said softly. “And what about Leo? He seems to be so happy. It’s so unlike him.”
“Yes, Leo. That’s another story. You see, he needs to stop his music lessons ASAP.”
“What the hell for?”
“Firstly, there’s no future in it for him. How long has he been playing?”
“This is his third year.”
“He doesn’t seem to have achieved very much in three years, does he? And it’s only going to get worse as he grows and his mind becomes less flexible. So the only thing he can look forward to in his adult life is fiddling for a bunch of drunkards in some God-forsaken bar or other. Is this the kind of future you foresee for your son?”
“You’re wrong! He’s gonna make it! He can do it, I know it,” her voice faded with every word until finally she broke down. A tear rolled down her cheek. Parting with one’s dreams is never easy.
Alik, thoughtful as usual, fetched her a Kleenex and a glass of water. She wiped her tears and gulped greedily. Gradually she calmed down.
“Ludmila, tell me. Was it your own dream to become a violinist?”
She nodded. “My parents were against it. They said I had to be more down to earth. In any case, I didn’t get the opportunity. My mother worked in a factory canteen. Our fridge was always full. So they just sent me to a culinary college.”
“So you see. And now you want Leo to fulfil your dream and not his.”
“And what did he tell you about it?”
“He just doesn’t like it,” I said candidly. “He doesn’t want to practice music. But he’s a good lad and he loves you very much, and that’s why he conceals it and tries to do his best. Because he doesn’t want to upset you.”
She sobbed again. “My baby...”
“Now listen up,” I said. “At the moment, cybersports are really big all over the world. Some of them have already overtaken regular sports both in their audiences and their entertainment value. Some successful cyber athletes earn six figures — I’m taking dollars, not rubles. And he seems to have a definite aptitude for it.”
“What? You want him to be stuck behind his computer for hours?”
“Not exactly. I’ve already spoken to him and we’ve come to an agreement that he’s going to practice regular sports first. I think he’d like to learn to swim.”
“What are you on about? Swimming pools are full of bacteria and cold drafts! He'll catch his death of cold! Or get pneumonia!”
“That’s bullshit.”
“What did you say?”
“I said, bullshit. Swimming pools are disinfected regularly. And as for him catching a cold, that’s exactly what sports are for. He needs to toughen up. You know what they say: a sound mind in a sound body? You can carry on having him tied to your apron strings but you might end up with a total wuss who won’t make anything of his life. Not because he’s stupid but because you won’t let him. You risk raising a hothouse flower, not a human being.”
You’ve dealt critical damage to Ludmila Nazarenko: verbal injury
-45% to Spirit
-45% to Confidence
“Listen to me carefully,” I rapped out, hammering every word deep into her brain while she was still sitting on the fence, “You need to stop his music lessons. You can sell his violin through an online message board. With the money you get from it, you need to sign him up at the local swimming pool. For every lesson he completes you reward him with the same amount of game time on his computer. You give him an extra hour for every A and B he gets at school. For every С he gets, he gets nothing. For every D, you deny him access to his computer until he improves. Tomorrow morning, go and have a full checkup, smarten yourself up and change your job for the one I’ve just offered. After a month, you’ll look back at the life you lead now and compare it to the one you’ll have. If everything works out well, come back and tell us what exactly has changed. Agreed?”
She nodded, hesitantly at first. Then she gave me a resolute nod as if she’d made up her mind.
“Very well. I’ll get it all done!”
Your Reputation with Ludmila Nazarenko has improved!
Current Reputation: Respect 10/120
She got up, bade her good-byes and walked to the do
or.
I concentrated on my own sensations. How strange. I felt excellent even though I hadn’t received any surges of pleasure from the program this time.
I heard a weird sound behind me. It was Alik slapping his forehead.
“The money, Phil! We completely forgot about the money! I’ll fetch her back now!” he exclaimed, about to dash after her.
I stopped him. “Leave it.”
“What do you mean, ‘leave it’? Why? You did find work for her, didn’t you?”
“She hasn’t been hired yet.”
“She will be, for sure! Didn’t you find jobs for Fatso and me already? They hired us, didn’t they? I don’t know how you do it but it seems to work!”
“That’s no secret. It’s all online provided you know how to look for it.”
“Well, that I understand! You’re one hell of a smart guy. Only how do you want us to make money if we do everything for free? What kind of business is that, dammit? Me and my lads spent a whole week pasting those wretched posters up! How am I supposed to pay them?”
“Listen, do you trust me? Because that’s what you need to do now: just trust me. The first client can make or break a business. Once she gets hired, you think she’s gonna keep mum about it? She’ll tell everyone: all her former workmates, her girlfriends and her entire family. The jungle telephone will start working, bringing us more people. You get the logic of it all?”
“Not really. ‘Cos it might take forever. First she needs to get hired, then she needs to... Didn’t you tell her to change her clothes and doll herself up? That alone might take another week or two. Then she needs to quit her old job and get on the payroll. Also, how can we be sure she’s gonna tell anyone about it? Maybe she won’t, and then what? Are we supposed to be stuck here like two spare pricks at a wedding waiting for something to happen?”
“So what do you suggest?” I said. “Do you want me to run after the poor woman and beat our measly thousand rubles out of her? And then what? We don’t need that kind of publicity right now.”
“Dammit, Phil, with all due respect, a thousand rubles is a thousand rubles. I don’t know about you but it would be really handy for me right now.”
Hero Page 14
