Hero

by Dan Sugralinov

  “How do you know our uncle?” Hussein asked in very good Russian almost without any accent.

  “In our town, everybody knows each other,” I replied.

  Alik next to me grinned, apparently remembering my earlier run-in with his old drinking buddies.

  “And who doesn’t know Uncle Mger, the soul of the Caucasian community?” I continued. “So do you still think he’d approve of it?”

  “He’d say we did the right thing,” Asar grumbled. He didn’t sound too sure though.

  “So you think that’s right, do you, three onto one? You think that’s manly, all that over a girl?”

  “There were three of them too!” Vazgen exclaimed. “Four even, only the fat one ran off!”

  We entered a small backyard full of old junk and stopped by the wall.

  “Very well,” I said. “Let’s get down to business because I still have other busi- er, other things to attend to,” my inner writer didn’t let me repeat the word “business” twice in the same sentence. “So. Was it because of Veronica?"

  “Yes,” Alik said. “He told me she was his woman. Only he couldn’t prove it.”

  “She is my woman!” Vazgen bellowed.

  Alik laughed. “You see? That’s exactly how he said it.”

  I had to step between them to stop them flying at each other again. “Wait a sec. What makes you think so?” I asked Vazgen.

  “I was the first to start seeing her!” the Caucasian roared, beating his chest.

  Seeing as my interface showed only 13% Compatibility between Veronica and Vazgen, I realized I had to discourage him here and now.

  “You may have started seeing her but you didn’t get to see all of her. This guy,” I pointed at Alik, “is already dating her. Are we done here?”

  “No, we’re not!” Vazgen bellowed.

  “In that case, I suggest we solve this matter once and for all,” I said. “You and Alik go for it, man to man. Let’s see who’s got the biggest balls. The loser gives up the girl, the winner gets the right to try to start a relationship with her. Are you both happy with this?”

  Alik scowled. “I’m gonna wipe the floor with him!”

  “I’m gonna flatten you into the tarmac!” Vazgen wheezed.

  “We’re agreed, then?” I asked. “Fair and square? Nobody will step in, then? You can only use your hands and feet — no bricks, no steel rods. Because Veronica won’t fancy an invalid even if he’s a winner. Is that clear?” I repeated, turning toward Vazgen’s supporters. “Why are you both looking so pissed? Would you fancy some of the action too?”

  Hussein shrugged and exchanged surprised stares with his brother.

  “Go on, then,” I encouraged them. “You two against me, all right?”

  I wasn’t risking anything. Although physically quite strong, both had very low combat skills. Apparently, this wasn’t as easy as leveling up Rhetoric by pronouncing flowery Caucasian toasts at a party table.

  “Okay, shake on it. Alik and Vazgen, you’d better go over there where no one can bother you. And you two stay where you are, this way I won’t have to run after you.”

  Without waiting for his elder cousin to take on my friend, Asar turned on me. I just let him do his thing.

  Damage taken: 148 (Kick)

  Current Vitality: 98,17388%

  Immediately I received another kick from Hussein, but this time I’d managed to block it. Asar tried to grab me from behind but I managed to throw him to the ground judo style. Don’t ask me where that came from — I’d done very little Wrestling worth mentioning — but it came completely naturally to me. It looked like I’d dealt some serious damage because Asar seemed to have had the wind knocked out of him.

  As I stood up, I deliberately allowed Hussein to punch the back of my head.

  Damage taken: 163 (Punch)

  Current Vitality: 96,69206%

  Shit, that hurt! My head was ringing; I leapt back a couple of paces in order to recuperate.

  Right, that’s enough playing the punch bag. If they wanted to win, they’d have to work for it now.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Alik sitting astride Vazgen, methodically punching different parts of his body. It was time for me to start winning, too.

  By then, Hussein must have decided I was finished and it was time to wrap the fight up and hurry to help his cousin. Thirty seconds later, he was lying flat on the ground seeing stars.

  You’ve dealt critical damage to Hussein Karapetyan: 311 (Punch)

  Asar didn’t need any encouragement to throw in the towel. I knocked him off his feet and fell on top of him, raising a clenched fist.

  “Enough, enough, I give in!” he hurried to say, squinting. “I give in!”

  I got up, brushed myself off and helped him to his feet. He then staggered over to his brother. I turned to Alik to check on him but he was already up, staring in confusion at the ripped shirt sleeve in his hand. Vazgen next to him tried to scramble back to his feet but collapsed, clutching at his leg. He must have hurt it during the fight.

  “Alik, help him!” I shouted.

  Once again we stood in a circle. I demanded that we all shook hands.

  The three guys silently complied without looking Alik in the eye. I sent Alik back to the office and took Vazgen aside...

  * * *

  CLOSER TO THE EVENING, when we’d already finished discussing the incident in the office and when I’d already received a Reputation upgrade with each of my co-workers, Vazgen showed up at the office, limping and hobbling, holding a cream cake, two bottles of wine, a large cheese, a basketful of fruit and a huge bouquet. Under one arm he was holding a carrier bag from a clothes shop.

  Without saying a word, he unloaded everything onto the table, cleared his throat to attract our attention and announced,

  “Please accept my sincere apologies for today’s, er, uhm, incident. I was wrong. Veronica, Alik, I’m so sorry. This is all for you, friends! Alik, there’s also a, uhm, a shirt for you there to replace the one that got ripped.”

  Vazgen looked over at Alik who’d already begun unwrapping the shirt, then walked up to me. He lowered his head and whispered in my ear,

  “I’ve spoken to them! They’re building a five-story hotel just out of town. I might have to work round the clock but that’s nothing I haven’t done before. Thanks for the tip!”

  “I’m so happy for you,” I whispered back. “You’ll get your money, and the girls will come,” I gave him a wink.

  Vazgen beamed, shook my hand and left, mumbling more apologies, leaving the entire office in cheerful bewilderment.

  “Right, guys,” I said. “Those of you who are finished for today can go over and help themselves. I still need to have a chat with Rose.”

  Chattering happily, my co-workers surrounded the spread. Rose and I headed for her office which was absolutely crammed with papers. Her tiny room housed two desks with ancient computer screens, a couple of soft chairs and a safe which could have used a lick of paint. Any clients had to make do with a rickety stool which, judging by its inventory number, must have been procured from one of Gorelik’s storerooms.

  “You can take Mark’s place,” Rose told me.

  I slumped into Mr. Katz’s chair, sinking so deep that I had to lean forward with my elbows on the desk to keep my balance. In this state of precarious equilibrium, I listened to what she had to say.

  “Now, sir,” Rose began. “As is specified in the business plan which you’ve already studied, we might reach the projected sales volumes only by the end of next year. That’s if we preserve our current momentum. But!” she lifted a meaningful finger. “Provided there’s sufficient investment, we might reach breakeven point already this fall and come this winter, we might turn a profit. You’ve studied the company’s budget plan scenarios, haven’t you?”

  “Er... to be honest, I’m out of my depth on this one. But I’ll start cramming, I promise!”

  She smiled. “No need to. You’ve got me to do all that. If we
don’t go into the details, there’s only one thing you need to realize. If we continue to grow at the same speed and preserve the same sales volume, we might avoid a cash deficit entirely and turn a profit as early as next year. But! If we manage to build a correct sales infrastructure already at this stage — and I’ve already spoken to the others about it — it would allow us to put the company on the map and find sufficient resources that would provide the results you’ve envisioned.”

  “May I just double-check something?” I asked. “If we don’t invest now, our development will be slow and painful. And if we do, it’ll take no time at all. Did I understand you correctly?”

  “Exactly.”

  “What kind of money are we talking about?”

  “If we’re talking about a year, we will need to invest in three installments.”

  “I’m afraid I’m talking about now. How much money do we need right now? As in, today or tomorrow, or the very near future?”

  “About two million rubles. That would allow us some leeway.”

  “And how do you intend to raise that kind of money?”

  “We can’t expect a loan,” Rose replied. “I’ve already made a few inquiries through some friends of mine. We could all invest the value of our shares, I suppose. Mark and I are quite prepared to put in. But as for the others, I’m not so sure,” she heaved a sigh.

  “They’re all pretty broke, I know. What other scenarios do you suggest?”

  “We could borrow some money.”

  “From whom? Do you have any ideas?”

  “Well, if your financial situation permits...” she paused.

  “You mean, me?”

  She nodded.

  I took a moment to think about it. “Very well,” I finally said. “I’ll give it some thought. I’d like to ask you to see if you can come up with a smaller amount.”

  “Very well, Phil. I’ll get on with it.”

  I left her there and returned to my office.

  Suddenly I felt weak. My Spirit indicator plummeted deep into the red. A new system window unfolded, filling my entire view (apparently to make sure I didn't miss it).

  I couldn’t help but read it,

  Warning! An abnormally high number of instances of aggression detected, targeting a user whose social status level is several times higher than that of his attackers!

  In view of this, the environmental safety index can be reassessed and lowered to Code Yellow. That in turn will release 3 new available main characteristic points.

  The earlier restriction specifying that the user could only unblock one heroic ability per every twenty social status levels gained can be lowered accordingly to one heroic ability per every ten social status levels gained by the user.

  Accept / Decline

  Finally! My reluctance to fight off Hussein and Asar had paid off! I’d already thought it hadn’t worked because it had taken the program so long to digest it. Three extra stat points and an additional heroic ability at level 20 was an excellent boost for my upcoming abduction and Trial.

  That would give me something to do at night!

  I could hear my team’s cheerful voices even from the stairs. Two reluctant figures were hanging around our office door but I couldn’t make out who they were in the corridor’s dim light.

  I took a closer look and realized that it was Ludmila Nazarenko and her young violinist son Leo, our first ever clients.

  “Ludmila? Leo?” I called out to them. “Why don’t you go in?”

  “Oh, Phil! You still remember us!” the woman threw her hands in the air in surprise. “We’re waiting for you! I took a peek inside but they seem to be throwing a party. I didn’t want to impose so I decided to wait out here.”

  “Leo, how’s it going, man?” I asked.

  “Uncle Phil, I’ve learned how to dive! Like this,” he showed me how he did it.

  “Well done! And you?” I turned to his mother.

  “That’s exactly why I came here. I wanted to thank you personally. Everything happened as you said it would. They hired me as a cook and they pay me enough for me not to have to work a second job. Leo took your advice to heart and started swimming.”

  “I’m so happy for you!” I said, and I meant it.

  “Please accept this. It’s from us both,” she handed me a shopping bag packed with food. “It’s a meat pie, finger-licking good! And a variety of salads, I’m sure you’re gonna like them!”

  “Aha!” I said. “Come on, let’s go in together,” I laced one arm around her waist, grabbed Leo by the hand and led them into the office. “May I have your attention, please!”

  “Ah, Phil’s back!” the red-faced Cyril bellowed.

  “Boss!” Alik cheered.

  “Friend!” Gleb shouted.

  Marina, Veronica and Mark smiled while Kesha made a drum roll on the desk.

  “Guys,” I said, “I’d like you to meet Ludmila and her son Leo. You know who they are?”

  “No,” they replied in curious unison, barring Alik who hid a silly smile. “Who are they?”

  “They’re our very first customers! Can you find a place for them to sit?”

  While Marina took care of the suddenly timid Leo, Mr. Katz gallantly seated his mother next to himself. Greg offered me a glass of wine. Just as I accepted it, my phone rang.

  It was Yanna. I had to step out of the office in order to speak to her. “Yes?”

  “Hi,” her voice sounded slightly hoarse.

  “Hi.”

  ”I didn’t notice it at once. I signed your contract without even reading it. I didn’t believe it at all. It’s just that my mother was hassling me to get a job so I did an agency crawl,” she paused, “just to keep out of her way. It was only after I’d gone for the interview that I finally read the contract I signed with the employment agency. That’s when I saw you were the director... Just put two and two together, basically.”

  “Did they take you on?”

  “Yes, virtually the same day. No idea how that happened. They were probably desperate to find someone. So I’m calling just to thank you. It’s a good job and it suits my skills down to the ground.”

  “Happy to hear it. Is that all?”

  “More or less. Again, thanks a lot.”

  “Wait up,” I began, meaning to ask her whether she knew she was pregnant, but she’d already hung up.

  Apparently, it wasn’t meant to happen.

  I got back to the office and stayed a little longer, then headed off home.

  I had lots of things to do. And one of them was raising two million Russian rubles in double quick time.

  Chapter Twenty. Sooner or Later, By Hook or by Crook

  A man of knowledge lives by acting, not by thinking about acting.

  Carlos Castaneda. Separate Reality

  YOU MAY HAVE all the money in the world — or so Homer Simpson used to say — but there's one thing you can't buy: a dinosaur.

  I didn’t need a dinosaur, although back in my formative years I wouldn’t have said no to a pocket version of a velociraptor. What I did need was for my company to promptly reach the required sales volume. My interface license wasn’t going to last forever; they could abduct me at any moment and if I failed the Trial, I might revert to my normal pre-interface self even sooner, stripped of my Universal Infospace access.

  And I’d known where to find the money even before Rose had explained it to me. A week ago, I’d raised exactly the same amount for Gleb. So why wouldn’t I try to repeat the process for myself this time?

  Boris met me by the door with indignant meowing. It hadn’t been easy for her just lately. She’d spent most of the time home alone — and even though she (like any other cat, I suppose) was perfectly happy keeping herself company, her meal times had been drastically disrupted, and she wasn’t at all happy about it.

  I stroked her, watching the Hunger debuff hovering over her back.

  “Boris, I’m so sorry. I should have given you your dinner before I left.”

&
nbsp; But that morning Kostya and I had got a bit carried away with my training. I had just received level 7 in Boxing and couldn’t resist a good bout of sparring.

  I squeezed the cat food out of the packets, slightly taken aback by their names: Tender Lamb Fillet and Delicious Veal. Indeed, marketers can do wonders with their appellations which can make even human beings drool over the packets. If it ever came to a zombie apocalypse, humanity might last decades on all the millions of tons of prepared cat food.

  Boris stuck her face into her bowl, purring like a tractor. I changed into my house clothes[49] and got busy making dinner. After all this talk of tender lamb and delicious veal, I decided to make myself a tenderized steak, seeing as I had a slice of fillet left in the fridge.

  While the microwave defrosted the fillet, I Googled a nice recipe for which I had everything, even a packet of breadcrumbs which had been sitting on the kitchen shelf since Vicky’s time.

  I hammered the steak, beat some egg in a bowl and dipped the steak in it before rolling it in breadcrumbs. I then scored it with a knife to make sure the butter could work its way in and threw it in the skillet for a few minutes on each side. I added some salt and pepper and sprinkled it with some lemon juice.

  All done! I added to this a vegetable salad of grated radish, tomatoes and cucumbers. A dinner worthy of a champion!

  Congratulations! You’ve received a new skill level!

  Skill name: Сooking

  Current level: 6

  XP received: 500

  The ability to cook a variety of delicious and healthy meals was an asset in itself, either to please the wife and family provided I ever had one, or simply to enjoy it myself. It had taken me about twenty minutes to cook it while in a restaurant, I might have spent the same amount of time waiting for my order which would have been considerably pricier.

  All this flashed through my head in the matter of a split second. Then I received a new message.