"Goldie!" I stopped the girl next to me. “What kind of a block is this? Not for us, right?”
“No, of course not,“ snorted she. “It drifted from one of the islands of the archipelago. It is a floating fort. There was a permanent war between the islands. The iceberg was besieged. The guns, and so forth, were taken away, the chain was chopped off and the ice coffin was let go to float freely. It will sail a couple of dozen more miles and melt.”
"So it does not concern us," I sighed with relief. "I already see the insidiousness of the BB everywhere. It seems to be everywhere.”
"No, no," Goldie assured me hurriedly. "We are not connected with their war. Just passing through the archipelago and all. We will take a rest, load supplies, and keep going, without slowing down. How are you holding up, by the way? Are you awake?”
“Holding on. Not sleeping yet.”
“Well done. You are becoming a real Sleepless.”
“Huh?!”
There was no answer. The girl went away laughing, giving out newspapers describing the recent military events.
"Becoming a Sleepless," I muttered. "Yeah, whatever! Brainwashing me! The enemy will not give up his proud mind! We will not take it, we can get through this! What else is happening in the district? What’s sparkling at the dark horizon?”
A dense whitish fog was slowly crawling towards us, bringing cold weather with it. Icicles formed on the eyelashes. Masts and gears were covered with ice crust. The deck became slippery, like a skating rink.
Now and then the white fog was torn up by a distant flash, followed by the heavy rumble of crumbling masts and broken sides. The drums were beating, the horns were blaring, players shouted, dragons roared and whistled, flying over our heads, and the majestic phoenixes, which looked like cruise missiles, burst through the fog with fire.
We were at war. We were sailing through the war. And the white fog seemed to be the merciful general anesthesia that hid what was happening to the body of the patient. He lay on the operating table and only occasionally saw the surgeons hanging over him, holding scalpels ... The doctors were the Sleepless. The role of the sick went to someone else. The Sleepless armada sent dozens of ships in all directions from the flagship, and they destroyed, drowned, crushed and smashed the ships of other teams. Destroyed the enemy mercilessly—striking from below, from above, from the rear and from the front, not forgetting to attack from the sides. Raptors finished off the other predators. Thick clouds of smoke, invisible in the fog, carried with them the smell of someone else's defeat.
We moved through a huge ice field, adorned with the "corpses" of discarded and dilapidated ships. Even more smoke — flames licking the flagship. There are many unfortunate ships, and I could see some names - there burns “Fearless”, there smokes "Windy Touchy" and there broken “Umka” powerlessly hung his sooty flag on the stern... Many unfortunate of ships, I cannot see all their names, but I try. It was a real graveyard of broken ships. And many players. Lots of them. They stood on the ice around their battle ships with drooping heads and sagging shoulders. These were not cheerful players. These resembled people banished to the mountain, standing and looking at the collapse of everything, at the ruined fruits of their efforts. On the deck of the heeled "Umka", a broad-shouldered figure rushed out and shouted: "Enough! Enough! We are out! Surrender! Do not touch Umka!”
“Fire! Fire! Fire!” Someone was roaring from our side. The ice field broke into pieces, which immediately began to sink players and ships under the ice.
“We approach the Shards! A big mess! Attention! The coastal fort "South Nadolb" is headed directly at us! What the heck? We are neutral with them!”
"No longer! Raise the defense! Send a warning! If they do not answer and do not hesitate — send a preemptive blow!”
“Ay-ay, cap!”
“Tighten the tail! We enter the Shards! Look in all directions!”
Another voice, hoarser and much more evil, immediately yelled at the top of his lungs:
“Shit! We have missed the course! Where does the damn navigator lead us?! Arch on the course! We will not pass! Steeper to the left! To the left! Ugh ... for this blunder, the BB will make us get a sex change! Go!”
The flagship, which does not look like a ship but an island, just its brothers who appeared in the ocean, covered with snow and ice, began to turn — removing its nose from the obstacle that lay on the course. My consciousness was fading. The game was simply ordering me to either leave the world Valdira immediately, or be immersed in a digital dream right now. But I held on. And silently I looked at the white fog, inhaling and exhaling the cold air.
The obstacle indicated seemed to pass a little to the right of us. The flagship had turned, and we silently passed by.
The icy stone arch connected two large and long islands, hanging over a fairly wide passage between them. A kind of natural bridge. And any normal ship, even the largest, would easily pass under and even squeeze between the islands. But not the Black Queen – this cool, gorgeous beauty would not fit into this needle's eye. The navigators had screwed up ... what was not surprising – the weather visibility was almost zero. But the error was instantly corrected. The threat was already painfully great. I could fully imagine the rage of the BB... but I did not want to think about it.
We did not have time to pass the first two islands. There was a real minefield on the way. The ocean was filled with ice and stone, but we cut through it with some difficulty. Then one of the ships near us abruptly stopped. A loud crunch signaled the forthcoming disaster— the masts rocked, fragments of ice and flakes of fallen snow flew from the sails. The captain screamed, yelling at the stupid achilots below the ship. Soon, players were hurrying to the victims, right on the ice and islets, hurrying to help. I did not want to linger in this hodgepodge of ice, snow and fog at all.
By itself, the flagship did not have to go behind anyone. It was itself was an icebreaker. And an excellent one at that. The Black Queen did not even slow down, calmly continuing to advance, leaving behind a wide canal, along which the other ships could pass.
Come to think of it, the Baroness was sure to be enraged because of the mistake of the navigators. We had to make a lap maneuver and choose a different course, which led to a delay. Decay was overcoming us — every moment was precious.
I was no exception – my world was almost completely extinguished. Sometimes there was a feeling that I was looking at it through the neck of a bottle of gray glass. Nerves were breaking — I wanted to yell, to call out the mistake of navigators. I looked at the amber ray of light that was beating from my chest and calmed down, calmed down... I had to hold on. It was my fault that I did not get enough sleep. All my previous mistakes, all my procrastination in the past days and weeks had led to this. The Silver Legend, which I did not have time to collect before the Great Campaign. There was nobody to blame for this, except for me. In future, I would try not to make such a mistake ... if I would succeed, I could not say…
“Strike!”
The cry made me flinch, and I stared in bewilderment at the gnome in a high pointed hat who had given the order.
The platform rattled hoarsely. It had not been fully restored, but certainly much had already been done. There were colorful stripes of fire that went on and disappeared into the fog. There was a distant fading rumble, and the gnome in the cap shook his head contentedly.
“Go towards them! Fools! Are the achilots sent?”
“Yeah, they're going.”
"Good.”
“We made it on time. Send a detachment to the fort?”
“Yes. And two "asses" of combat status. Time to plunder by the right of the winner! Let them take all that is possible! We drowned so many goods after diving ... The BB was angry. But what could we do? How could we manage to remove so many things under the deck in just five minutes?!”
“Whatever. I understand her. Decay.”
“Right! She was going at it all night long! I would also be tired!”
; I involuntarily pricked up my ears, but the conversation did not continue. However, something became clear – the BB spent the night cutting someone's throat ... from dusk to dawn...
My curiosity flared up again. I was grateful. After all, the monotonous picture of fog and ice brought drowsiness. I think that the game cocoon was also contributing to my wakefulness — if this was real life, I would already be in fetal position in some arbitrary place in the apartment.
But other than this, nothing interesting happened. And so I just got up and began to walk up and down the bridge, paying no attention to those present, and even smiling at their comments, which I did not understand. Everyone knows the cinematic image of those crazy people who, for example, pretended to be the French emperor Napoleon Bonaparte. Usually this maniac is drawn in pajamas, with a blanket thrown over his shoulders, his hair wild, his eyes bulging, his gait shuffling forth. An exact copy!
Instead of the striped silk pants I had leather ones, which had fallen into disrepair after the campaign. On my shoulders was blanket. My shuffle was healthy.
I could not help thinking about it – would I go crazy?
Immediately I could see the sad picture — how I am being dragged from the apartment of an elite house, being forcefully wrapped in a straitjacket, like a mad patient howling with rage: "Let me go! Let me go! I am the Great Navigator! I am on the wa-a-a-tch!”
Ugh-ugh-ugh…
I spit three times over my shoulder, and knocked my forehead with my knuckles, since I did not find any unpainted wood nearby. Let us hope for the soundness and strength of my mind. And I also hoped that the fate of the game would give me something interesting, something to repel boredom.
And again I was not mistaken! Fate had clearly heard my pleas. The gnome in the cap suddenly jumped up as if stung, spun around the axis and stopped with difficulty, staring at the others:
“The BB is gone!”
“Overboard?!” Exclaimed someone.
“In the real world! An emergency exit! She walked and walked and then disappeared...”
“Maybe she left?!”
I felt for myself with my hands. As if the signs of sudden ejection could be felt. If this was it ... was it Decay? A heart attack? A stroke?? Hardware failure? Lost network connection? Did she get bored of hanging in Valdira?
Orbit!
That is who it must be. I hurriedly began to scroll through my mailing list, completely forgetting Decay.
“Did she notify anyone?”
“No,“ someone else confirmed. “Have you sent someone?”
“At once. Her assistant has already gone into the real world, phoned the driver with the security team, and informed us. Now she must run to the house of the Baroness and her guards. Shit… maybe Wind?”
"Shut up, Gromis! Shut your mouth! And bite your beak!”
“I am just so ... she just froze ... it was definitely a glitch or something. Either the cocoon, or communication ... or the BB ...”
“I said, shut up! Call the damn Baron! And awake Malice! Call Klest, he takes over the captain's watch! Ros, are you holding on?”
“Yes.”
“My friend, hold on, please. We seem to have lost just the commander-in-chief of the fleet right before a very large collective maneuver! We remain without the admiral! We cannot lose the main navigator!”
“I got it. I hold on. And you, if you can, keep me informed. So that I do not worry. I already wrote Orbit.”
“O! Orbit! Shit! I forgot about him! You two – get Orbit! Ask him! Ask to get out of the cocoon – agree to any of his whims, but let him pull himself out of his cocoon and check the BB! Run!”
“Yes sir…”
The huge fleet continued to move forward, crushing the ice and resistance on its way. The fighting machines worked hard, sending projectiles forward. But we were hitting blindly.
Ten minutes passed in relative calm. There was only the rumble of excited voices on the bridge, birthing more and more new ideas and immediately refuting them.
The Baroness had fainted from overwork, and her system was thrown out of the game. Maybe. But unlikely, because the settings of the cocoon should have worked much earlier, without waiting for a sudden decay to take place, brain waves are constantly monitored. So this option was highly unlikely.”
An emergency shutdown. Someone from outside had cut down the cocoon. The most banal option — someone had pushed the notorious red button. The worse variant — someone had broken the cocoon itself. The darkest version was that the cocoon was broken along with the BB. Or the cocoon was left whole, but the BB …
All involuntarily shuddered, and there was a real screech of denial – many were on duty in the house. Plenty of security. And they could have gotten in shut down at once, so quickly that no one raised the alarm. Complete nonsense. Did the government storm the house of the Baroness? No, since her brother Orbit was still in the game... The cocoon — yes, most likely this was the disconnection of the cocoon.
Orbit woke up, listened to the agitated messengers and then shrugged his shoulders. He did not give a clear answer. Now the bald spot of the elf was being drilled by a dozen eyes.
We passed an island floating on our left, a snow-covered island. It seemed that it was a nest filled with entrances and exits, where a lot of players and "locals" were living, trying to turn the alien fleet into a sieve. They succeeded only partly — two small ships got holes in their sides and began to sink. However, they did not get to the bottom — from below they were picked up carefully by such huge creatures that a nuclear submarine cruiser would feel like a pygmy next to them. The enemy fire was quickly suppressed and a group of scouts was sent there to find out how these reptiles managed to go unnoticed.
Then the sleepy Malice returned to the bridge. He took a quarter of an hour – a lot, but, given that he did not sleep at all today, this was still a record speed for awakening, realizing the situation, and returning to the fighting bridge. Sharp commands fell one after another. All were concerned — not with the course and not the flagship, but with the Baroness. Klest engaged the flagship himself, beginning to complete what was begun by the Baroness. The Black Queen came to life at once, lit up with a thousand bright lights, shining in the whitish fog like an atomic New Year tree, becoming visible from a very long distance. The idea was unmasking, but to attract the attention of those whom we needed to find. There was the powerful ship's roar – the flagship hoarsely calling its allies and enemies. This machine was afraid of nothing and no one. And she made it clear.
They received a message from the Red Baron — the half-orc fighter could not return. He had occupied himself fully in the battle for Al Dra Das. He could not even retreat — ships were burning on the water, dragons and griffons were burning in the air, fishes and dynos were blazing under the water.
And then even more serious news arrived – Orbit had flown to the real world. Followed by his sister. Briefly paralyzed. And the bridge exploded with cursing and cries.
I was the only one left alone. I got up, clapped my hands and called them. This did not help. I had to growl hoarsely:
“Hey! Everyone!”
This time, they paid attention to me, and soon everyone was looking at me.
“Orbit went out by himself. Everything is all right at their home. Nearly. The problem is with the head of the family. I think everyone knows whom I am talking about. Now they are at home with their family and have to deal with the problem at home.
“Who said so?!”
“Where is the info from?!
“Ros, are you sure?! “
“How do you know?!”
“Stop!” I had to yell again. “Before leaving Orbit sent me a message. Now we are waiting for his return. In the meantime, continue to move ... that is, to go full speed towards the sparkling future. And do not yell, please, please! My head was about to crack from your yelling!”
“Sorry ...”
“Thank you! From the heart!”
"And when will Orbit
return? And will he return with the BB??
“I do not know!”
“We have a maneuver upcoming! Shit! If we stand this way, it will not work … comrades, what will we do? Fare forward? Or squeeze the rows together?”
"Do the simplest one! We need the Baroness!”
“Enough about the BB! She will be back soon! Do business! Or I am gonna kick someone face right now! What about construction?”
“Calm down!” Angrily snapped Malice, whose voice had restored its sonority and calmness “Maneuvers have been transferred into skillful hands. Klest, tell all the ships to carry out orders without question! If you do not understand something— ask!”
“Done… shit…”
“Yeah ... I’m in shock, myself,“ Malice looked at me obliquely. “Have you told the information to the ships?”
“Done.”
“Orbit returned,“ I started, still in a surprised stupor.
“And where is he?! Where is that bald bastard?!”
"He's coming here," I reassured him, turning my head and looking at how almost two dozen heavy five-masted ships had suddenly began to turn from us to the side and pick up the course, pushing forward. Had the maneuvers begun? The movement was unimpressive, but this was clearly a group maneuver. A relocation. And I guess someone told them to move away from us and someone else sent them to another place... What a mess…
Orbit appeared on the bridge lazily, with the usual smile on his face. He was taken into a tight ring, and the elf immediately pretended that he was going to leave. People instantly closed the sides, breaking clenching their teeth, asking a myriad of questions about his sister.
Our prophet the mysterious sage quickly calmed everyone down, in his usual haunting manner, explaining that an emergency situation existed, but nobody could influence it. For this "typhoon" was the only one they could not oppose. The Baroness would return to battle in five hours. Or a little later.
Now she takes a shower – he already had photos— after which she would eat, then sleep, then eat again. Then – back to Valdira. This was all. There was no reason for panic, everything was going in the normal order. There was security in the house, too, and everything was in order. They were simply told to sit and not get into other people's family affairs, and the BB confirmed this order. That is all. Goodbye. Arrivederci.
The Way of the Clan 8 Page 26
