That’s better. Two perfect parts of my current creation appeared before me—the ring and the faceted ruby. All that was left to do was to merge them together, connect them with the material and instantiate the thing into reality. Here goes…
When I opened my eyes, I saw one of the prettiest ring’s I’d ever created in Barliona in my hand. The copper had been replaced with white gold, which along with the ruby created such a lovely interplay of light around this item that I could barely look away. I wonder what its properties are…
??? ???. Description: ;)(“(#;$ ??*):*. Stats: +10% “(*@*#&!, +10% )(“)!+/. Restrictions: (*”_#;??”) 350”?*;_
What the…
“Daniel, are you okay?” a worried voice asked over the telephone. “Your vital signs are falling from nominal.”
“Thank you, I’m okay,” I whispered in shock, still looking at the ring in my palm. It had properties! “I’m just a little anxious.”
“If this happens again, we will be forced to conduct a medical evaluation. We cannot allow our clients to feel bad.”
“I’m okay,” I repeated. “Please don’t worry.”
“Okay. We wish to remind you that we will soon be withdrawing the funds for our services from your account. All the best.”
Hanging up the phone, I collapsed in my chair and began to stare at the ring. There weren’t any doubts—it really had characteristics. They were secret, garbled, encrypted, but they were there!
How was this possible? This was reality!
Try to use your head, Mahan…Consider why Donotpunnik and Hellfire would want this. Plinto’s words tore through my mind like lightning, forcing me to structure everything to some still-ethereal thought. My body wanted to jump and to fly, but I forced myself to stay sitting, to think.
Consider why Donotpunnik and Hellfire would want this.
Why had they been so confident in revealing their plan and the other members of their conspiracy to me? Why did they show me that my former mentor was involved? Why did they even include me in their conspiracy at all?
The answer swept across my body like an electric wave: Because they were sure that I wouldn’t say anything to anyone! Because I’d never run away from them! Because I’d be with them always, wherever I fled!
Because I’m not out in actual reality!
A ring with nonsense properties can only be created in one place—a virtual subspace connected to Barliona. I’m in a mod of Barliona designed to look like the reality I know! A virtual cul-de-sac that Provo set up just for me…
This time, instead of an electric shock, my body simply went hot. I began to sweat all over. This wasn’t the first ring I had crafted! I had made my first ring during my rehabilitation! Why hadn’t I considered how improbable it was that the Corporation would release a person who had just spent a year in a capsule after a mere three days of rehab?
And another shocking suspicion followed the first, entrenching itself in my mind: Sergei, who supposedly arranged my escape, had done it all in three days. If he had asked me to do the same, could I do it in the same amount of time? Erm…I really doubt it. In fact, I’m sure that I couldn’t. So why am I asking this question only now?
Stop! How would the people who arranged all this know that I would turn to Sergei? They knew the passwords, meeting places, our agreements…
Provo again! The mentor who’d taught us everything! He’s the one who’d drilled the principles of security into us and…
“During that hour the guy only lost like 10% of his brain and he’s still got a chance of living a normal life…” I recalled the words of Silkodor the Rogue, which I’d heard on the bank of the Altair. And as this recollection waved at me cordially, another wave of cold sweat swept across my body.
“Your death and the revival of our man must happen at the same moment.”
According to those who’d hidden me away, I had spent four hours in a state of clinical death. If I was to believe Silkodor’s girlfriend, I should currently be little more than a bowl of petunias—without a brain, without consciousness, without memory.
My thoughts began to gallop, getting tangled, contradicting themselves, but constantly recalling surprising details that I hadn’t paid attention to.
Omega’s hesitation to release me as soon as I demanded it: They needed time to render the outside street. They’d even put in a street sweeper with a broom! It was looking like they’d sized me up pretty well—as soon as they gave me a taste of liberty, I immediately decided to turn back and head inside. Hadn’t they promised to transfer me to a different location…two days ago?!
A personal visit from a Corporation representative named Alexander: He was the one who showed me the interview with Anastaria—so that I’d burn with the desire to seek revenge against Phoenix. From that point on, they didn’t have to render any new streets. I had become consumed with my revenge and stopped noticing the discrepancies around me.
My sensory perception: If I’ve actually been in the same capsule I was imprisoned in, it becomes clear where my sensations are coming from. In the prisoner’s capsule, my sensory filter had been turned off! Everything would read normal to the developers and admins monitoring the signal that Provo had doctored. But for me, my time in Barliona after returning had become a living torment.
The meeting with the old man: Donotpunnik claimed that the old man had been an actor, but now I realize that he was nothing but an ordinary Imitator. It’s just not possible that there wouldn’t be any people in the completely safe and well-lit central park. Especially on such a pleasant summer night. Even at midnight, there’s always couples hanging out there, hipsters, hobbyists…
Stop!
Consider why Donotpunnik and Hellfire would want this.
Hellfire had made his position clear—he was sick of doing nothing on our continent, and the oddest thing is that I believe him. Meanwhile, for Donotpunnik who had spent five years and several billion credits on this operation, the first place in the ratings…
We wish to remind you that we will soon be withdrawing the funds for our services from your account…
Why, I had personally given them permission to withdraw from my clan and personal accounts! What a moron I am! If Donotpunnik is using me, then he’ll have access to my account, which will have a balance of twenty-nine billion credits in a few days. You could easily sacrifice one, two, even three lives for that kind of money—hell, you could easily raze half the city for it! And I gave Donotpunnik’s people the keys to it myself…
Blast! What to do? I need someone’s help urgently! But whose?
Every step I take in Barliona is tracked. That’s a simple fact—if I’m really in a virtual subspace at the moment, then my body is lying somewhere in the depths of a prison. Since I had never left the capsule to begin with. Who am I going to ask for help? The police? They don’t exist for me. Heralds? Provo and his people will merely adjust them. They already showed me what they were capable of. A complaint to the admins? Even if it makes it through, what would I write? That I suspect that I’ve been kidnapped and imprisoned? Inside a mod of Barliona? Madness.
But the main thing is how convenient all of this is! As soon as I become useless, they’ll simply disconnect me from Barliona and that’s it—Shaman Mahan would simply cease to exist! What does Donotpunnik need me for? I’m just an extra witness. And so is Hellfire now, by the way. The Warrior got into this whole affair for the sake of a clan transfer. He was supposed give the Tears to his clanmates and now that I’d already done this, Hellfire had suddenly become useless too.
The Salva!
The Salva could save me! I could leverage it to force them to return me to reality unharmed. I could promise to sign a non-disclosure agreement with them…
Then again, what does Donotpunnik need the Salva for? He’s already received his money—or he will soon enough. All the Salva gets him is a little more gold on top of what he’s already earned. But I doubt they’d allow me to live in exchange for several billion. It’s m
uch easier to remove the Creator’s binding and complete the Dungeon using the might of the Azure Dragons. They could get a First Kill too while they’re at it.
Could Phoenix help me? No, I don’t think so. Anastaria will only be happy if I vanish. After what she did to my clan, I…I froze and addressed myself in the third person: “Mahan, tell yourself please, what did Anastaria do to your clan? Why are you so angry with her?” Seems like a simple question, but it was the one I really didn’t want to answer. Stacey helped build my clan, she helped us acquire immense bonuses, provided me with intelligent people like Barsina and Magdey, and helped Leite set up the clan finances. Should I be angry at her for this? Or maybe I should be mad because she stole those items from my bag? After everything that happened during the opening of the Tomb, there was no guarantee that I wouldn’t delete the Shaman. I could have easily done so! And to be fair, after my return—rather, after I’d been returned to the game—Stacey gave the Chess Set back to me, since it belonged to me, but she kept the Crastils. Just in case—since I needed them.
Damn!
Another cold sweat broke across my body. For crying out loud!
Anastaria knew me! She knew that I would work with the enemies of her native clan! This is why Hellfire was the only one to invite me to Phoenix! Anastaria didn’t even consider me a human in the beginning! I could even recall our first kiss outside of Beatwick! The revulsion on Stacey’s face told me a lot more than any words could have. And yet, after that everything went according to plan—we began to interact. If Anastaria knew that I was under constant watch by a third party—and that at the same time, I don’t really have anything to do with them—it becomes clear why she never told me about her plans…so that Donnotpunnik wouldn’t find out about them! If I found out that I was under surveillance too early, I could have been disconnected and they could’ve moved on to the other candidates. Didn’t they say that there were nine others? But no! Anastaria didn’t betray me! Now it’s clear why Stacey always responded to all my requests immediately—because she still cared for me!
It follows that the scene in front of the Tomb was an attempt to prod me out of the game? Either send me to the mines, if I lost control, or out to reality having first supplied me with a sufficient amount of funds. The players, the buying up of resources—Phoenix had invested over a hundred million in order to purchase my release and in doing so foil Donotpunnik’s plans. But it hadn’t worked!
So then why did Stacey keep needling me the entire time? Why do those interviews, why make the stupid claims she made, why use our meetings to annoy me?
Hello reason. I’ve missed you. Emotions! She wanted me to become aware of my emotions! So that I could return to reality and, wishing to channel my emotions into something productive, create some kind of item. After all, I was a creator! Stacey wanted me to realize that I was in my own personal virtual reality. She was looking out for me!
Right. So it follows that asking her for help is also pointless. How long will I survive in a disabled capsule? An hour? Two? If the oxygen is cut out of the nutrient solution pumped through the long-term immersion capsule, I’ll have at most ten happy minutes of swimming. Followed by drowning and a hypothetical afterlife. I need a way out!
James!
A saving thought flashed in my mind and I snatched at it. Several times when I did something unthinkable in Barliona, my consciousness had been transported to a special area where I met with the head of innovation. As far as I recall, James had mentioned that I was in a closed environment, which wasn’t inside the game…which could not be monitored by standard means…which couldn’t be eavesdropped on.
That’s a chance!
If right this instant I do something that no one expects, James will want to see me again. I would be transported to him and I will be able to ask for help, betraying Provo, Mirida, Hellfire and Donotpunnik. I don’t see any other way to survive. Could I trust James, or was he on the take too? A good question, which I can’t answer. I’ll have to risk it, since otherwise I have no more than two days to live.
By the way, if I’m right and I’m in a virtual subspace, then my kidnappers have been doing the right thing—my desire to do something hasn’t left me and if it weren’t for the ring, I wouldn’t have considered what was going on. It feels like they’ve pumped me full of some amphetamine that makes me want to move and move instead of thinking.
As if!
If someone naïvely imagines that they’ve won, they’re gravely mistaken. I will absolutely think of something that’ll earn me a meeting with James. In the end, Donotpunnik himself had said: “An explosion that big might even kill the Emperor himself, let alone knock down some castle!” Now I’ll just have to come up with a suitable target…
Geranika!
The developers are heaping all their hopes on the new enemy Empire, so they are sure to take my destruction of him as a challenge. James will definitely want to have a word with me if I pull off something like that! So…I have the portal to the palace and I have the scrolls, but where will I get my minute of combat? I can only detonate the scrolls a minute after battle has begun, so what I need to figure out is how to survive. And the only player who could help me is currently standing still somewhere in Barliona, cursing me with everything he has. Clutzer! That Rogue managed to survive longer than ten minutes in Geranika’s palace…Could he repeat this feat? Why not?
Okay—Clutzer starts a fight, granting us the ‘In Combat’ status, I wait a minute and set off the scrolls. No, that won’t work. I need to survive the explosion too! I need to meet with James and tell him everything! A Paladin and his bubble! That’s the only way to accomplish what I have in mind!
My desire to act finally overcame everything, so I jumped up from my chair and ran over to the capsule. Donotpunnik thought he was cunning? The time had come to disappoint him.
ENTER!
“Clutzer, I need you and three Mages here ASAP,” I ordered the Rogue as soon as I appeared in Barliona. “We’re about to make history together.”
“I need five minutes. Do you need anyone else?”
“No, I’ll do the rest myself.”
I tarried a moment and made my decision:
“Stacey, I need your help. Right this instant.”
Even though there was no reply, I sent the summons to bring Anastaria to my location. I really needed a Paladin. If my suspicions were accurate, Stacey was still on my side—along with Phoenix. All that remained was to prove it to everyone as well as myself.
“Yes?” Once again, Anastaria didn’t ask why I needed her and simply appeared beside me. It was like our last awkward parting had never happened.
“Here’s the situation. I did what you were pushing me to do for a long time and I wasn’t very pleased with the outcome. In fact, it shocked me a great deal.”
“And what have you decided to do?” Anastaria turned on her Ice Queen mode and looked at me condescendingly. The tower of my suppositions began to sway, but I quickly set up some extra supports and replied:
“I have a portal to Geranika’s palace and his permission to take a small tour. I want to make a little outing. Would you like to go with me?”
“You summoned me to go on a tour of Armard?” Anastaria’s eyes narrowed with suspicion.
“Of course,” I smiled in response. “What could be better than such a lavish trip? I have another small favor to ask though—remember the battle of Altameda? When I challenged Phoenix and all your clans? Phoenix gave me players and I was forced to ask them to do something. Basically, I’d like you to do the same thing.”
“Are you sure?” Stacey asked after a moment’s thought.
“Yes, absolutely. It’s the only way out that I can see.”
“Then I’m with you,” Anastaria the Ice Queen melted away becoming Anastaria the Goddess of War. “When are we going?”
“Right this instant. We’ll wait for Clutzer to arrive and then we’ll go. I imagine Geranika’s beginning to miss us already.”
“Mahan, am I having a deja vu? Or are we really going back to Armard?” grinned Clutzer with an evident nervous note in his voice. Using Altameda, I transported all of us to an uninhabited location, produced the dagger and asked the Mages to charge it with Mana. While Anastaria hadn’t ever seen this ritual, Clutzer knew very well what was coming.
“Of course we are! Armard is our kind of place! Once you set foot in it, you never want to leave. You managed it once and I’d like to rectify the misunderstanding. Besides, Geranika and I have an agreement that I’d feed him a couple players every day.”
“If it’s like that, I’m all about it. What do you want us to do?”
“I need a minute of combat.”
“Whaaat?”
“What I said. I need a minute of the ‘In Combat’ status. And you’re the one who’s going to give it to me.”
“Erm…Am I missing something? You would only need that minute to…”
“When the time comes, you’ll know,” I interrupted Clutzer, keeping him from blurting out the rest of his sentence.
“Not a problem! If you need a minute, you’ll get a minute. What’s Anastaria here for? The bubble?”
“Uh-huh,” I hummed, approaching the opened portal. “The blessed bubble.”
Shutting my eyes and praying that the people watching me hadn’t yet figured out what I was up to, I dived into the portal. How tired I am of teetering on the razor’s edge…
“Check it out—they’ve painted the walls,” Clutzer noted in a business-like tone, emerging from the portal behind me. “The palace is coming along nicely. Maybe they’ll even splurge on a rug next time.”
“There won’t be a next time, thief,” sounded Geranika’s voice. The portal popped shut loudly, cutting off our retreat, yet Anastaria had made it through in time. The walls began to waver like melting wax and in a few moments vanished entirely, leaving us right across from Geranika and his alabaster throne.
The Way of the Shaman [06] Shaman's Revenge Page 39
