“We should use the information in your head,” Lee said shrewdly. “It’s what Gideon would’ve wanted.”
“No offense, but Clementine Towers is a little obvious for my line of work,” Inez said. “Set me up underground. Helps dampen the signals.”
“I know just the place,” Lee said. “We should head there right now.”
“Any one tailing us?” Mike asked into his com.
Lee passed on directions. The flyer swooped low through the decrepit forest of hab blocks at Venice Beach. The concrete slabs grasped at the sky, remonstrating with whatever God lurked there. The vessel set down in an abandoned street off the Pier District. Nick could see a group of youths standing around a bonfire in that direction.
Mike produced a black tube the length of his forearm. He fired some kind of electric charge from it, smiling hideously as it arced through the gloom. The charge exploded twenty feet from the ground, sending inertia streams trailing into the gang. Half of them fell to the ground while the others scattered for cover.
Mike nodded in satisfaction and signaled his permission for everyone to continue. Nick made sure the downed street urchins weren’t dead before following the others through a steel doorway. He was a bored youth once upon a time and probably looked very much like those guys did.
Everyone huddled around a second door with an elaborate security system. Lee muttered a few seemingly random words into an intercom and it snapped open.
The interior was like a halfway house for homeless undergrads. Thermal cocoons covered every conceivable space on the floor. The air was thick with cigarette and marijuana smoke. Several lightscreens glowed in the darkness, where dancing fingers manipulated data at lightning speeds.
Nick picked his way through the mess, wincing when he knocked over a dozen empty cans of palp. If the advertising was to be believed, palp was a caffeine drink with the strength of several suns. Judging from the heady fumes alone, he had every reason to believe it.
Lee was talking with a young man the same age as Nick, but with cooler clothes and hair.
“I have a girl heading back to Berlin in a couple of days,” he said uncertainly. “Is she really Gideon’s daughter?”
Inez hung back bashfully, but was clearly smitten with the grungy surrounds.
“I can pay you,” Nick said, stepping forward. “Give her a high-powered machine and whatever protection you can provide. I’ll be checking in regularly.”
Nick was surprised at how authoritative that sounded. He felt responsible for Inez’s safety and needed to ensure her needs were met.
“Name’s Cullen,” said the hacker. “It’s a honor you meet you, Nick.”
Nick blinked - was this guy mocking him? Apparently not. He accepted Cullen’s hand, marveling at how things had changed.
“I suspect we’re all on the same team,” Nick said, noticing that every hacker in the room was looking at him intently. “Lee and I will keep fighting inside Oakshield Junction.”
That won him a few smiles. This place reeked of anti-corporate sentiment. Nick was no militant but his experiences with Neutron had given him a bitter world outlook.
“What we need from you is not only protection, but information,” he continued. “Intelligence is half the battle. If you can give me anything about upcoming episodes - villains, terrain, the fucking weather - you’d be surprised at how much it helps. I can’t pay you all -”
“We don’t work for money,” Cullen said quickly.
Laughter rippled across the dark room. Nick had to smile. They probably stole what they needed. Like a modern incarnation of Robin Hood’s merry band.
“We’ll stay in touch,” Lee said, moving to Nick’s side.
He looked at her affectionately - she looked utterly exhausted. It’d been a very long day.
“Let’s get you home,” he said.
“Take me back to yours,” she said drowsily, resting her head on his shoulder. By Lee’s standards, it was an incredibly intimate thing to do.
“You happy with all this, Mike?” Nick asked his bodyguard.
The Slovakian shrugged. “This place shit hole. Syndicate never find.”
Succinct and to the point. Nick looked at Inez. It felt strange to be so attached to someone he’d only just met. What he knew so far intrigued him - there was a fierce intelligence behind those eyes.
She’d adapted remarkably well to “real” life since her escape - Nick suspected that Gideon’s data package was designed to soften her “bounce”. Still, he couldn’t imagine what was going through that mind of hers. The fact she was actively looking to put her skills to use instead of looking for a psychiatrist was a miracle in itself.
“Let me know if you need anything,” Nick said. “Clementine Towers is less than half an hour away.”
Inez nodded. “I appreciate that, Nick.”
Gideon’s daughter showed an uncanny maturity for her years. Nick knew she had a fascinating story to tell, but it would need to wait for another day. Right now it was enough that she surround herself with like-minded people. Hackers were cautious and skittish by nature, which stood her in good stead. This rather bland, forgettable location was not likely to be discovered anytime soon.
“I’ll visit tomorrow night,” Nick promised, giving the teenager a hug.
“And I’ll visit you in Oakshield,” Inez promised with a wry smile. “You can depend on that.”
“My guardian angel,” Nick smiled. “Not the first time a Popov has looked over me.”
Nick, Lee and the Slovakians said their goodbyes and left. It was close to midnight by the time they made it back to Clementine Towers.
“Tank arrive dawn tomorrow,” Mike said as he cracked open a bottle of whiskey and settled himself on the balcony.
“Thanks, Mike,” Nick said, excited by the prospect of launching alongside Lee. He padded down the hallway for blankets and sheets.
“You know where the spare room is,” he said sheepishly to Lee. “I’ll get Mike to make us some -”
Lee wasn’t interested in talking. She pushed Nick against the wall and kissed him savagely. Enjoying the press of each other’s bodies, they stayed there for several minutes. Eventually Nick got around to pulling Lee’s leather jacket from her shoulders.
“Bedroom,” she murmured. “Those fucking Slovakians are perverts.”
Nick couldn’t disagree, taking Inez by the hand and leading her to his sanctuary. This was where his king-size bed paid for itself.
“We’re such cliches,” Lee groaned as she unzipped his jeans. “Oakshield sweethearts falling for each other in real life.”
“I don’t care,” Nick said as he drew her T-shirt over her shoulders. She pushed him back against the bed and straddled him.
“Didn’t think you would,” she said, unhooking her bra and removing it slowly. Infused with a mixture of lust and fatigue, Nick extended his hands for a massage. Lee closed her eyes and groaned softly.
“You really rocked that poison dagger today,” she said, settling on top of him and sliding up and down.
“Your power attack gets me every time,” he replied, triggering laughter on both sides. There was plenty of cheesy humor to be mined from their gaming lives.
The session wasn’t a particularly long one, but it was more than enough. Nick was curled up alongside his Bonded partner within ten minutes, both sleeping soundly.
Nick woke alone. While he wasn’t really surprised, part of him was disappointed. He found Lee out in the hallway tapping away at her wrist pad.
“You alright?” he asked.
“Fine,” she said abruptly before checking herself. “Sorry. Sleeping with you was enough of a cliche. I don’t need breakfast in bed too.”
“A good thing no one’s watching,” Nick said, perhaps too bitterly.
“Yeah, well, maybe I need to take things nice and slow.”
Silence. Nick didn’t think there would be one of those silences so soon.
“It’s cool,” he said awkwardly. “Come out when you’re ready. Mike’s pancakes are fuckin’ good.”
Nick ate alone at the kitchen counter while he watched a pair of technicians install a second Immersion Tank in the living room. Joe arrived during the commotion and announced that he’d been briefed on Lee’s whereabouts. He seemed more than happy to facilitate her launch as well as Nick’s.
Amid the general chaos of loose circuits and tubs of yellow gel, Mike strode in with an instantly recognizable older man in tow - Yul Sandor. Shorter than Nick had expected, but the same impeccable pinstripe suit and shrewd, calculating eyes he’d seen in all the news reports.
The fine, wispy grey hair suggested advanced age, but the upright posture and strong, deep voice ran counter to that theory. Yul Sandor radiated effortless power, all the more so without a single bodyguard or aide. Nick couldn’t quite believe he was sharing the same room with the man who had single-handedly revolutionized gaming across the world and turned it into a platinum industry.
“Nick - at last we meet in the flesh,” the intimidating mogul said pleasantly. “Perhaps we should talk out on the balcony.”
“Of course,” Nick said, sliding the door open and taking a deep breath as Sandor breezed past. He wasn’t sure how he intended to string two words together with this man, lacking the poise to adequately handle the situation. Sandor was as crafty as they came and had probably come to negotiate. Flustered, Nick considered calling Mike or Lee, but decided it would make him look weak. There was no way he would give Sandor that satisfaction.
“What can I do for you, Mr Sandor?” Nick asked as he took a seat alongside the mogul.
The morning sun was pleasant on the balcony, but the distant, muffled crash of air against the atmos-shell was a stark reminder of how brutal the weather really was.
“As a boy I used to dream about living in a place like this,” Sandor said with a nostalgic smile. “We’re both street urchins, you know.”
So that was his game. Butter Nick up with talk of a shared childhood before calmly ripping his soul away. Nick’s mind swirled with a thousand answers, none of which accurately reflected how he truly felt.
“Oakshield is the best game I’ve played,” he said truthfully, surprised at the emotion in his voice. “But it could be so much better.”
“Oh, we can always do better,” Sandor said, smiling like a benign grandfather. “You’ll be excited to know we’ve only scratched the surface.”
Nick forced himself to focus. This was Yul Sandor. A man who oversaw the systematic slavery of thousands of people in his games. Men like this used charm and guile to get their way. And they always got their way.
“I’ll keep fighting you,” Nick said in a tight voice. “I don’t believe in the Syndicate.”
Sandor simply nodded, as if the answer was entirely expected.
“Yes, yes,” he cooed. “I’ve noticed you’re not exactly a team player. But I do appreciate your work, Nick. I really do. Which is why I’ve come here to chat.”
Here it came. The smiling assassin was going to show his hand. Nick squirmed uncomfortably - no matter what happened now, the taint of Sandor’s visit would linger. Clementine Towers would feel less like a sanctuary. This man was a monster.
“We have an opportunity to end all this rubbish about you against the world,” Sandor said. “The sooner you realize we’re on the same team, the better. I cannot allow you to liberate NPCs from Oakshield. It’s worse than theft. It’s sabotage.”
Finally, a trace of anger from the old man. Buoyed by the sight, Nick gathered all his anger and gave it a voice.
“You have someone close to me, you bastard,” he said. “Release Emily Lambert and I might listen.”
Sandor laughed, a bone-dry cough that did nothing to assuage Nick’s simmering rage.
“Steady, Nick. Steady. My proposal allows for three scenarios. In the first, you retire from the game. Now. Today. With five million credits. Or you could choose to finish the game. In which case you can win … or lose. If you win the season, we’ll pay you the same amount and you can retire in glory. Better still, we’ll introduce you to any NPC you care to meet. If you lose, you work for us. No questions asked.”
Nick knew what that meant. A lifetime of servitude as a tank vegetable. The Syndicate got to use his skills without having to deal with his recalcitrant soul. A plume of anxiety rose in his guts. This was exactly the kind of deal the media loved. If Nick agreed to it, he was committing to a lifetime of tank servitude should he lose. Everyone would see it as a fair, transparent deal between Nick and the Syndicate.
“I take it you’ve already approached the media?” Nick asked through clenched teeth.
“Of course,” Sandor said with a truly diabolical smile. “The game is afoot, Stanners. And the choice is all yours. Good day.”
The old man left Nick alone on the balcony. The runner stayed there for several minutes, simmering in the brutal genius of Sandor’s move. It was proactive and positive, designed to garner good press for the Syndicate and draw attention away from the company’s darker practices. If Nick lost the game, the Syndicate would claim him, and everyone would think he was doing it willingly.
Of course, Nick had no choice but to play. Emily Lambert was still stuck in Oakshield as an NPC. Yul Sandor had successfully turned Nick’s battle into some kind of challenge, instead of what was right. There was only one acceptable outcome for Nick - to play, and win. The alternatives didn’t bear thinking about. To make matters worse, the chances of the Syndicate playing a fair game were less than zero. There was every chance the programmers had more nasty surprises in store for him.
He checked his wrist pad - almost time to launch. Lee watched him closely as he padded into the kitchen to get some water. She’d already stripped down to her underwear, but Nick barely noticed.
“What did Sandor want?” she asked.
“Check the news,” Nick said tiredly, stripping down. He just didn’t have the energy for a full explanation. Besides, he was about to see Lee in the game world.
“I think we should meet in the southernmost spawn point. Agreed?”
“Whatever works.”
“Is everything alright, Nick?”
“I’m good.”
“If you’re upset about this morning, I -”
“I’m not.”
Joe the technician watched the runners climb their respective ladders, afraid to cut the tense silence with small talk.
“Check on Inez for me,” Nick said to Mike, who was standing in the kitchen. “But make sure all coms are shielded.”
The big Slovakian raised his hand in acknowledgment. For someone so gleefully violent, he was strangely sheepish whenever Nick was in a foul mood.
“Five,” Joe said. “Four. Three .Two. One.”
Nick could just make out the outline of Lee’s body in the next tank as that familiar darkness flooded in.
SHADOWS OF ASHK
As the fate of Durandor hangs in the balance, all roads lead to the Free City of Ashk. Now that the true nature of the enemy has been exposed, King Alain and his intrepid mercenaries hasten their way to the sprawling city in a desperate, last-ditch attempt to find allies to help them save the Kingdom of men. Their task will be far from easy. The city itself is rife with rumors of disturbance in the Old Tunnels. As civic law threatens to crumble, the Guilds have stepped forward to take advantage of imminent chaos. King Alain must walk a tightrope if he is to return from the city alive, let alone with a host capable of defeating the kobolds laying siege to his homeland. As ever, the future of mankind hinges on a motley collection of mercenaries. A volatile, splintered band who will need all their famed cunning if they are to survive the coming storm …
The dramatic introductory movie faded into the spawn screen. The map showed the southern tip of the Hammerhorst Range, where spawn points were scattered from east to west. As south it was difficult to identify the southernmost point.
The Free Cit
y of Ashk lay on the Gallana Plain to the south. According to the map, the terrain promised to be reasonably flat once the Hammerhorst range had been left behind. There was no reason to select points to the east or west, so Nick went with the one in the middle. Hopefully Lee would follow his logic and do the same - they couldn’t afford to be apart for too long.
The world of Oakshield Junction gradually revealed itself. Nick was standing on a winding trail that ran south through a steep valley. The mighty Hammerhorst mountains loomed to the north, while the dusty Gallana Plain extended to the south. Nick was filled with relief when Lee materialized.
But they weren’t alone. SnowmanCometh, an albino duellist wearing a loincloth and wielding a glowing falchion, entered the world barely ten yards down the path. He didn’t even look at the Bonded pair, instead sprinting to the south. Nick let him go. He’d decided days ago that his fellow runners weren’t the enemy - the Syndicate was. If he was attacked by his rivals, so be it, but he wasn’t about to seek their blood.
“You might live to regret that,” Lee drawled in his ear.
“I don’t have time for regret,” Nick said, which wasn’t quite true but it sounded good. Besides, he was still angry with Lee. He suspected it had something to do with her mixed signals. One minute she seemed hot for him, the next she was retreating a million miles an hour. When everything else in his life was wither fleeting or downright dangerous, he was counting on Lee to at least be consistent. On the evidence so far, she may not have had it in her. In any case, they had a mission to run and everything else needed to be shoved aside for the next eight hours.
“Shall we?” Lee asked. “Snowman already has a head start on us.”
“We shall,” Nick said, twirling his katana as he took his first steps. He was rewarded with a flood of Love points, but Lee rolled her eyes.
“What’s that down there?” Nick said, noticing a distant plume of dust on the plain.
“Royal wagon train,” Lee said, squinting in the bright morning sun. “Those are Durandor colors.”
“The King,” Nick said. “Let’s try and get there first.”
The pair bolted down the path, making the most of their long stamina bars. There was no sign of SnowmanCometh, who was probably also high in STA. Halfway down to the plain they were assailed by a marauding posse of mountain goblins. The creatures weren’t particularly difficult, despite being tricky to nail with melee attacks.
Dexterity Build: A LitRPG Saga (The Complete Dexterity Build Cycle) Page 11
