Web of Worlds

by Michael Atamanov

  “Do you really believe that, Leng Gnat?” he interrupted me fairly unceremoniously. “Your governments are disjointed, and your leaders continue to hide the truth about the game that bends reality from your people. The vast majority of humanity has no idea that your planet is under threat at all. I have spoken on this a hundred times with Ivan Lozovsky and the other diplomats of your world. I asked why your leaders were acting so irresponsible and I got all kinds of excuses, but never a promise to remedy the situation. And then I realized that nothing would get them off their asses until combat starships appeared in the sky, Miyelonian or Meleyephatian horde! And given your people don’t want to save their own world, why should others do it for you?”

  Near the end of his diatribe, the Diplomat was simply roaring his objection. After a short pause, Kosta Dykhsh calmed down somewhat and I answered his justified objection, saying the magocratic world was much better about secrecy. There, no one was surprised that the new head of the La-Fin dynasty was a native of a parallel world and had met Princess Minn-O in the game that bends reality.

  “Yes, that is true,” my furry companion answered, now in a decent tone. “That world is better prepared for fusion with the virtual. But it really is an interesting situation. It isn’t every day you see bifurcation of space. That is of great interest from a scientific point of view. What will happen when the virtual and real worlds synchronize? Will just one planet remain, the one whose factions control more game nodes? Or will both planets appear in the real world? And if they do, what will be their positioning relative to one another? Will that not cause a space disaster?”

  Ugh. So the prelates of Tailax wouldn’t know either, given our Geckho suzerains couldn’t give us a clear answer about what was coming next yet. And for the first time I was hearing Earth’s various possible futures from the suzerains. Either only one of the parallel worlds would remain, the one with more progress in the game, or both would survive. And perhaps neither of them would survive if the two planets just collided. That wouldn’t be good... I wondered what version of our planet would win right now.

  “So is that what Geckho scientists are researching in the areas people cannot access?” I threw out a line and it clearly didn’t land.

  Danger Sense skill increased to level sixty-one!

  Kosta Dykhsh stopped sharply, and a pistol suddenly appeared in his huge furry hand. Not a usual laser pistol, something with a bit more stopping power. Woah! I wasn’t expecting such a simple seeming question to make him that angry. I instantly lowered my helmet’s faceguard. A forcefield glimmered up around my Listener Energy Armor. I hadn’t brought a weapon, but the Small Relict Guard drone came down and hovered a foot and a half over my left shoulder. Kosta Dykhsh sized up the drone with his gaze, looked at my ancient matte black armor and put his gun away.

  “Leng Gnat, here’s some advice: never ask that question again! Don’t go sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong! Humanity isn’t meant to know what the great Geckho race is doing on your planet! Okay, conversation over!”

  The huge Geckho turned around and headed to his metal hut, well visible in the beams of many flashlights. I just stood there in complete shock. What came over the viceroy? Why was humanity not supposed to know what the Geckho were up to on our planet? Plus... damn! I had never talked with Kosta Dykhsh about Uline Tar and her dowry! Should I go after the Diplomat? I understood that was a very bad idea. The representative of the suzerains had given me a clear signal that he didn’t want to talk and insisting might come at quite a high cost to my faction both literally and figuratively.

  Okay, to hell with the quick-tempered Diplomat. I looked at the time. It was just after four in the morning. Go back to the Human-3 Faction capital citadel? From there I could get an antigrav to take me to Rocky Island or the spaceport. Or (I remembered my very first day in the game), drop by the Firing Range, which wasn’t far away. I’d been meaning to level my gun skills for a long time. I didn’t think the Human-3 Faction would refuse me such a small favor. At the end of the day I could pay too, if they asked. Although... it was probably closed at night, and a member of a different faction breaking the locks to the armory would not look very good. I wasn’t used to considering the Human-3 Faction foreign, I had to constantly mentally correct myself.

  I didn’t want to leave the game. So what could I do? Go hunt for the creature in the nearby forest that had chomped down a couple dozen people and the Geckho Diplomat as a snack? The fact that no one had discovered the monster yet was no impediment to me. Gnat had high Perception and the IR-Lens to search for warm-blooded creatures. Plus Scanning combined with the specialized Prospector equipment could be used to find anything in the universe.

  What was more, unlike the other players after the dangerous beast, I had some idea of who I was looking for. After all, I had transported this creature to Earth in a heavy four-hundred-fifty-pound container after Fox the Morphian dragged to the pirate interceptor!

  After reaching the place Kosta Dykhsh told me about suspicious rustling in the bushes I stopped and looked around carefully. Just a forest at night, nothing unusual. The fox had already run away. Nevertheless, my heart started seizing suspiciously, warning of a still unknown threat shrouded in mystery. The Scanning skill showed nothing. Seventy steps around me was just the same cold damp forest. Trees, bushes, little animals, midges... Overall, nothing unusual.

  As not to wait a few minutes for the Scanning skill to reload, I sent the Small Guard Drone ahead for recon, sat on a hillock and took out my Prospector Scanner. I monkeyed with the settings, switching off search for metals, cavities, minerals and other things I didn’t need, setting maximum intensity on organic, protein- and nonprotein-based lifeforms. Just the trees threw me. There were thousands of them around and they would fall under the parameters I set, possibly drowning out the whole signal.

  Holding a Geological Analyzer at the ready, I was thinking whether it was possible to remove or at least reduce interference from the trees when suddenly I saw a fast, blurry movement fifteen steps to my right.

  Eagle Eye skill increased to level seventy-seven!

  Danger Sense skill increased to level sixty-two!

  I sharply turned my head to the right. I wasn’t totally sure but I felt like one huge tree wasn’t there before. And then I was struck by a premonition that disaster was inevitable. Already knowing that I had at most a few seconds left to live, I sharply unfolded the metal tripod and stuck the activated analyzer into the earth. But when I saw the Morphian changing form and moving, I didn’t even have time to shout to him that I was not an enemy...

  The world went dark, the mini-map disappeared along with the bars for health, hunger and various other game stats. After that, on a black background I saw a painfully familiar set of bright red words:

  Your character has died. Respawn will be possible in fifteen minutes.

  Would you like to review your statistics for this game session?

  Damn! It was my fault, too. I knew it was dangerous here! In retrospect, hunting the unknown Morphian in the night forest did not seem like an intelligent move. I hadn’t died for a long time, I overestimated my strength and paid dearly for it... I chuckled unhappily. At least now I wouldn’t have to summon an antigrav to bring me to Rocky Island because my respawn point was still there from when Valeri-Urla and I went swimming. Just ten minutes on foot from the island fortress.

  I refused a look at my statistics, and the virt pod lid opened and slid noiselessly aside. I stood up and walked over the glass surrounding my virt pod room. It was partially dark under the Dome. The night lighting was on, and just a few of the street lights lining the park paths were on. I was unaccustomed to the empty view from way up here, no trees or grass. But they had to do it to sterilize the area.

  At first I was thinking of just waiting the fifteen minutes and going back into the game right away but I felt very tired and was starting to yawn. I needed sleep. I managed to get down the stairs, but at to the exit I was intercepted
by intelligence director Alexander Antipov:

  “What luck you left the game, Kirill! I’ve got a job that’s right up your alley! Follow me! It’s very important!”

  The fed was insistent and pulling me by the hand, but not toward the administration building, towards some security buildings, all the time repeating that it was a “wonderful coincidence” and this work was “right up my alley.” I had to admit, it was nothing like Alexander Antipov’s normal behavior. Strange thoughts flooded my head. Was this an attempted murder or kidnapping? But I saw strict-looking armed guards from the “external specialists” at one of the buildings, Faction leader Ivan Lozovsky, First Legion head Tarasov and a few other people I knew. Something really must have happened.

  “This way!” Alexander Antipov opened the doors. “We don’t have much time, but you might be able to get him to talk.” “Let me through! Here is the very man we told you about.”

  The last words were directed at a group of armed people in the corridor and they parted to let us through.

  But I was suddenly totally baffled. Get him to talk? What was happening? Anyhow, I soon saw for myself. In a room without windows where I was basically shoved, there was a dark-skinned dark-haired man cuffed to a chair and wearing a torn but clearly expensive suit. When I walked, he raised his head and gave an acrid chuckle through bloodied lips. I turned away as not to make contact with his glowing blue eyes and turned to my escorts, who were standing stock-still in the corridor:

  “Are you out of your minds?! According to his documents, this man is an employee of the Canadian embassy!”

  Chapter Twenty-Four. Closing the Breech.

  I WAS SEEING the strong severe man in a military uniform who answered me for the first time. He had no apparent rank but I immediately guessed the mustached officer was in command of the soldiers surrounding the building.

  “This so-called ‘embassy worker was detained two hours ago in Moscow in a rented apartment. The biography in his personal file didn’t add up: he has never lived in Bangladesh, never received Canadian citizenship, his documents are all fraudulent. Mr. Ahsanuddin Hussein Rahman was also nowhere to be found in the official Canadian embassy worker list, so he has no diplomatic immunity. How this guy got to Moscow, managed to legalize his migration status and enter a secure diplomatic mission unimpeded is a huge mystery. We’re working with the Canadians now to figure it all out.”

  Woah! This really was a serious case if the Canadians wanted to work with us. The threat of using a biological weapon in the Russian capital was a critical situation for the whole planet and I imagined that helped them find the right words.

  “We tracked him for a few days, listened to all his conversations and know for certain that when exiting the diplomatic mission, he had two capsules of the biological agent on his person. At the same time, a search of his apartment found nothing dangerous. Upon detention, Mr. Ahsanuddin Hussein Rahman resisted and somehow killed two of our men without so much as touching them. Then while in the vehicle he threatened that he could wipe out Moscow, New York, Beijing, Tokyo and several other large cities and would do so if he wasn’t released at once. I have no idea how much what he said lines up with reality. He may be bluffing. Nevertheless, considering the biohazard capsules he has hidden in an unknown location, leadership decided not to risk it and bring him right under the Dome. First of all, no wireless devices work here. Second, assuming we’ve been properly informed, you speak with people like him here under the Dome and have a better understanding of the nature of this false diplomat.”

  Yes, that really was true. I and all the other players under the Dome understood perfectly what ash gray skin and glowing blue eyes meant for this “Bangladeshi-Canadian.” Obviously the man before us was a representative of the Dark Faction with magical abilities. And he was clearly not a small fry, because he could control peoples’ minds and get through guard posts with such ease.

  My heart gave a painful prick and I knew exactly what it meant. The handcuffed arrestee had just tried to kill me with magic. What a bastard! And if a normal person without wizarding abilities and magical resilience were in my place? Actually, I needed to make sure the others were safe.

  “Get away, he’s dangerous! Leave us alone!” I walked into the room over to the frightening arrestee and, scooting across a chair, sat opposite the enemy mage.

  “Black sssunglasses, eh? Ssscared?!” asked false Ahsanuddin. And although he was speaking Russian he had a very strange accent, drawing out every hissing or shushing sound. And that was not, by the way, the usual accent of the language of the magocratic world. I suspected the arrestee could speak just fine, he was just trying to throw me off or scare me.

  At any rate, his attempt to frighten the head of one of the three strongest dynasties of the magocratic world amused me.

  “You La-Shin or La-Varrez?” I asked point blank in Dark Faction language, which clearly caught him off guard.

  The captive mage stopped chuckling spitefully and gave me an in-depth explanation, now without any put-on accent:

  “I don’t know where and when you learned our language, but you’re a dead man! I am Imeer-Toh La-Gorr from the ancient La-Gorr dynasty of mage-rulers! We are first-order vassals of Coruler Onuri-Unta La-Varrez!”

  A felt another prick in my chest, telling me the enemy mage had attempted to stop my heart again. And based on the surprised and sour looked on Imeer-Toh La-Gorr’s face, this time he had put a bit more effort into it and was counting on success. Naïve... I already knew I was the much stronger mage, and his fruitless attempts couldn’t hurt me. I could easily kill him with a psionic attack, but I of course did not do so.

  “I don’t care what your real name is, because you’re a dead man now no matter what you do...”

  “Ha!” Imeer-Toh didn’t believe me. “When I tell you the location of the spores, you will not only release me but also apologize and pay me very handsomely! I have all your governments wrapped around my finger! And you will do everything I say!”

  Come on... Despite the fact this parallel-world mage was in handcuffs, he was being flagrantly rude and even threatening. Well, I would have to take a totally different tactic with a snot-nose like him. I’d have to change to a language he was more used to, force.

  “Do you think I care a whit for the governments of this world? No, you’re a dead man for a different reason, not because of the capsule of dangerous spores and not because you killed my people,” I removed my dark glasses with exaggerated ease and set them on the table. “No, you must die now because you dared to attack me — Coruler Gnat La-Fin, leader of the La-Fin Dynasty and ruler of the First Directory! Such things are not forgiven!!!”

  Boy did that ever do the trick! No matter how psychologically prepared and resistant to torture the enemy agent was, centuries of obsequiousness before the heads of the great dynasties worked their magic. All the piss and vinegar instantly drained out of him. Before me now was a frightened man, whimpering in fear and with a stinking dark spot spreading out on his light-colored pants.

  “Listen to me very closely, worm! You have just one hour left to live. There’s a clock on that wall, so you can see how long you’ve got left. Now I’m gonna ask you some questions. And you’re gonna answer them honestly. When you do, I will tell your master Coruler Onuri-Unta La-Varrez that Imeer-Toh La-Gorr died honorably, as a proud mage of an ancient dynasty should. But if you try to lie or hide the truth from me even one time, you’ll also die, but your master will be hearing that the La-Gorr mage shit himself in fear, betrayed him and is now working for the La-Fin dynasty. And you wouldn’t be the only one hurt by that. I know exactly how Coruler Onuri-Unta La-Varrez’s mind works. I’m sure that an hour later, there would be nothing left of House La-Gorr. Do you understand?”

  Imeer-Toh his face black, looked away from the wall clock and gave a downcast nod. I turned the table on the microphone on and the interrogation began.

  * * *

  Forty minutes later, I stood up, tired a
nd headed for the exit. I’d run out of questions much earlier, and I wanted insanely to sleep. In the end, I didn’t cast any death spells. First of all, I didn’t know any. Second, there was no need. Imeer-Toh La-Gorr was so convinced he would be dying soon that he would be dying in twenty minutes without any help from me.

  “You can take it from here,” I told a beefy mustached officer in the hallway. “Imeer-Toh is broken and answering questions honestly. Have you found the spore spreaders already?”

  “Yes, both bombs have been found exactly where the arrestee said, and both have been disarmed.”

  The mage was not bluffing. There really were bombs. And if the signal from their master didn’t come in time, a mechanism would trigger and the deadly spores would have spread through the ventilation of the Moscow metro. Potentially, that would have directly killed thousands and started the uncontrolled spread of a deadly infection.

  But there were no bombs in other cities. For now. They were only in the planning phase, because the biohazard payload had not yet arrived from the game. By the way, the La-Varrez Faction had found and tested an interesting method for transporting items between the worlds. First you implant the item (hermetically sealed packets of spores in this case) into a player’s clothes. Then change faction and, when the person left a virt pod a few days later in a different world, they carried the “contraband” with them.

  Chaos, death, charges of using biological weapons and harsh wars between the countries of our usual world almost inevitably using our deadliest weaponry. Why did the La-Varrez Faction want that? An explanation was teased out of the captive’s answers. As it turned out, head of the La-Varrez dynasty, great mage Onuri-Unta was firmly convinced that one of the two worlds was fated to disappear soon. I couldn’t say what foundation he was operating on, but at every speech he gave, the great mage mentioned the idea that the factions of the magically imbued world needed to control more than half of the game hexagons of the virtual planet before the end of the tong of safety. To achieve that goal, Coruler Onuri-Unta was prepared not only to invest all possible resources in developing his own game faction and dozens of vassals. But also to poison his enemies against each other, and ideally destroy the world as we knew it. There was no peaceful way of negotiating with a fanatic like that.