Then all the ships will gush players of the Sleepless Clan, instantly dividing into groups. Destruction of new monsters, urgent study of the surrounding lands for hidden treasures, unique items, legendary equipment, one-time quests and more… Hordes of locusts eating everything in their path.
On the “northern resort” where my favorite daddy had sent me, I had read many books. Including about the Aztecs and Spaniards who colonized them. The Baroness would be the new Cortez. Conqueror. Robber. But unlike Cortez, she wouldn’t share with anyone.
This is where my imagination fails me— it is simply impossible to imagine how much wealth is in Zar’graad. One only need to try imagine it and the mouth goes dry immediately.
But I was thinking now only of the material things, only that which can be directly taken and dragged into a vault. This was just the tip of the iceberg. There are also political motives. Probably there are some sensible “locals” in Zar’graad. And maybe even a new race. And with them we can immediately begin to negotiate, to take under our wing, to build reputation and establish trade. And all this at a time when the rest of the clan ships haven’t even come close to the shores of Zar’graad. Timing is everything.
I’m not a strategist but… for some reason, I firmly believe that as soon as the fleet of Sleepless players land on the shore and unload their cargo, then they will immediately turn around and move in the opposite direction. In a hurry to the ships of the remaining clans. And they will give them a final battle, destroying the competition in a suicide attack.
Because the clan won’t have to feel sorry for ships. Unlike those who won’t have yet reached the goal…
I am sure that the sleepless fleet will cease to exist, but sink down many ships in the process. And if the sleepless operate in conjunction with the achilots— it will be simply deadly. After all, landsmen are no match for divers. Land races don’t care about the ocean floor, and marine life doesn’t have anything to do with green forests and deserts. I think that the Baroness and her staff on analysts have thought through all the details and have written hundreds of pages on possible developments. This is not a game. Everything is much more serious now.
And it all comes down to the final and most important conclusion.
Simple as boots and incredibly ancient. It’s all about profit. Spit on prestige, spit on the glory of the discoverer, spit on the picture in each of the hotels in Valdira, and definitely spit on the envy of the other players. To hell with all aside from benefits. Benefits are material.
Of the Sleepless clan is the first to Zar’graad— they will earn millions.
- Right…-- I said— I understand you. Treasures, influence…
- The city!
- City?
- Read the literature, Rosgard— the Baroness sighed— Be sure to read it. Everything is written. The first clan to reach Zar’graad can choose a place to put a teleport, which will connect the mainland and the rest of the players to the lost continent.
- And what will you get from this? Ownership of the teleport?
- No. The teleport will be shared. But the land with a radius of three kilometers of the spire will belong to our clan— slowly said the Baroness— That is if I just select the location for the teleport and send back materials for the construction professionals and artisans. And if we fully construct a teleport of our own resources… the clan will own the land within a radius of five kilometers around the spire.
- Land, which will be subsequently home to urban buildings— I concluded— Right…
- The central part of the future city will belong to the Sleepless clan— the Black Baroness smiled sweetly— Including the main square. With shops, stores… should I continue?
- No— I shook my head— Not worth it.
- Clear— she smiled— We’ll agree for sure, Navigator. For sure. Let’s start right now.
- No— I refused— I am right on the verge of Decay now. Far too long in Valdira. And besides these things should be discussed with a fresh mind, right?
- True— nodded the Baroness— You really have been in the game too long.
Oh… so she knows for sure how long I’ve been in the game. This means all this time they’ve been watching me, and I noticed nothing.
- Maybe you’ll join your friends after all? – suggested the Baroness, gently rising from her chair— They are celebrating victory. Your victory.
- No— I laughed in turn, rising— They celebrate your victory. We are just extras. But, you’re right… I won’t leave like an Englishman. I’ll stay for half an hour.
- That’s good. And at the same time we’ll get to know each other more— smiled the woman— Please, Rosgard, the table is waiting for you. By the way— when will be continue the negotiations? I do not want to push, but I wish to be sure. I like to know, not guess.
- First, I shall sleep— I said— I will come to my senses. Think everything over. And then, when I come to my senses… I’ll write you immediately.
- Right. Just do not wait too long, dear Rosgard. And, I think, it’s better to keep this as secret as possible.
- Of course— I said— I want to play, and not run from clans. In any case, there is still time. Well? Where is your roast turkey in wine sauce?
- Don’t have one… yet. We’ll make it— firmly promised the Baroness— We’ll be sure to make it.
After exchanging smiles, we moved together to the stairs. On the far side of the library Doc was busy among the books, completely forgetting about the feast. I did not disturb him. In any case, in half an hour, I’ll go home. To the real world.
I woke up heavily and reluctantly. My body simply did not wish to wave up.
The first thought that flashed through my head: “Well, let him sleep, I just have to get to the cocoon and press the button…”
But with a heroic effort I pushed this thought out of my mind, and didn’t even look in the direction of my “sarcophagus.” Yawning from ear to ear, I went to the kitchen of my new home.
Valdira would wait. A little while, but still a while. And maybe a little longer than that.
Why? Well, because I’m too confused. By all these incessant events and adventures, both in the real and gaming worlds. And this is bad. No, not like that… bad would be putting it too mildly.
If you have a mess in the gaming world— it’s not good and unpleasant.
If you have a mess in the real world— it’s not good and dangerous.
If you have a mess in both worlds— it’s terrible. Expect trouble.
And I had the last one, in which the tail of one world appears in the other. The chaotic interweaving between two worlds. When gaming problems hurt businesses and relationships in the real world, that is just complete… nonsense…
The fact is that I am an ordinary person. I’m not a trained spy, who can withstand this on a mental and physical level. Not one who can live for years in constant tension with an outwardly calm appearance and a fierce boiling mind.
I’m not like that.
I’m normal.
And I can’t live with my head swirling with negative thoughts like “is this friend really my friend”, “how should I treat my girlfriend”, “are they betraying me or now”, “should I believe them or not?” And such thoughts only multiply. With each new day— new challenges and unpleasant puzzles and riddles. Some puzzles can only be solved with a “kick.” This is when you take the puzzle and send it with a powerful “kick” to hell. For example, this was the only way for me to deal with the mystery of Vlas— If he is a mole or not a mole and if he is digging or not digging. There was no sense in asking Vlas at all— his answer was obvious. It would only add to my problems and grievances. And it was solved simply— with a loud “to hell with it!” Which meant that I would not share any secrets with my old friend, but that my relationship with him would be kept smooth and friendly.
Overall, I had a lot to think about.
And so I decided to follow one of the many tips of my stern father. When my fat
her gave me advice, he loved to mull over all of the details— which always left me terribly infuriated. Therefore, I had tried to shrink each of his pieces of advice into a few words or sentences, throwing the entire husk of didactic examples away.
The abridged paternal mandate read as follows: if you want to figure something out, sit down in front of a wall and think about it.
I had repeatedly seen my father do this since childhood. If he needed to make a really important decision, he took a hard wooden chair, put it in the corner of two bare walls, and sat there for several hours. Silently. You couldn’t disturb him at this time. And watching was boring. But when my dad got up, a decision was always made. Sometimes it was unexpected. But it was a decision nevertheless.
It know one thing— when I came back from my forced rest in the north and before my departure from home, my father said: “before sending you there… I forgot to sit facing the wall.”
In his language it probably meant the following: “son, I’m sorry. I am sorry for everything— I sent you to that dismal place without thinking. Forgive your foolish father…” Probably… I didn’t want to clarify, and nodded silently and walked to the exit. But, my friends and I did some nonsense then… maybe it was worth such a punishment.
I may not be Einstein, but I can formulate a simple plan.
First, to think: a thoughtful reading of all the literature on the Navigator and everything related to journeying. And only then return to Valdira, and a thoughtful assessment of the accumulated assets in my personal room. With its most recent dressing. It was time to raise my stats at a heightened pace, and for this I needed the proper equipment— and I had it. The Silver Legend. Time to use it to the fullest benefit.
But first, the most important thing: to think about business in the “real” world. This comes first. For this reason, I waited for the kettle to boil, made some strong black coffee with sugar, went outside, brushed some foliage off of a stool positioned outside, sat on it and stared at the wall, gently sipping the hot invigorating drink and thinking at my leisure. Of course this didn’t measure up to my father’s brainstorms, but I needed to spread out my thoughts.
The problem is that recently, I have been living in the style of the words “for later.” There is the problem— I will solve it later, right now is not the time. And so on and so on. As a result, the problems have accumulated to the extent that you cannot move them without a bulldozer. I probably exaggerate, but still…
For example, Kira the Trouble… I do not know why, but I cannot get her out of my head. I would say that I’m in love… but I’m not sure yet. Attached, surely, but about love… I wasn’t ready to admit such a diagnosis. And in any case the current form of our relationship could not continue. It would have to either develop or to stop. Not to say that I’m the perfect guy… but I could not treat Kira cheaply. I don’t know why. She fell into my soul. What a misery… No wonder people say that trouble come unexpectedly. I enjoyed the bachelor lifestyle, lived peacefully, and then bang— a package in checkered plaid, take it and sign here. Holy smoke… and how has Kira hooked me so? Her sincerity and spontaneity? After the experience of living together with the impossibly mannered and righteous Elena, Kira looked like a volcano against the background of an iceberg.
To put it bluntly— this morning I realized, with some horror, that I would like to see Kira peacefully snoring next to me. Just to see and experience— not for sex, but just to have her near.
That’s it.
Fin.
The end.
Hook, line and sinker.
If this is not love then there is only a short way to go. And now, instead of developing the relationship, or at least keeping it alive, I was playing spy. No— I had a good reason to do so, and I have something to hide. Still— even if I were to forget everything related to Valdira, I just wanted clarity.
After drinking a sip of coffee, I made an effort to forget about Kira and focused on the “good” clan of the Albatrosses. Including this issue of Gosha and Vlas. All except Kira… ugh, again I am thinking about her!
Don’t think of Trouble, don’t think of Trouble… I wonder what she’s doing now?
Ugh!
Oo-oo-oo-oh…
No, this will not do. No thinking is happening when all my thoughts always slip to the same topic.
Okay. We will make the question clear. And at the same time walk to the nearby store— there is one not too far, but not particularly close.
Getting up from the stool, I grimaced in annoyance.
This damn conspiracy— also nonsense. If Gosha is searching for me— he won’t find me. But if more serious people will be looking— they’ll find me if necessary. And not to be found— I have to go as far away as possible from the city, and not just rent a house from an old friend. Why will they find me? Because this is their profession— to find. For example, Kira… again Kira in my head?! This is real Trouble…
Alright, let there be Kira— she is probably thinking of me too… probably… her dad will be able to find me, for example. At the request of his beloved little girl, he gifts her with expensive toys. Can it be that the first assistant of the mayor has friendships with the same FBS? Easily. Will people whose profession it is to seek be able to find me? Yes. They will. I shouldn’t build illusions. They don’t even have to give a very good reason. They’ll just find me and inform about it. Oral and written reports. And if necessary, will haul in my totally bound and terrified body. I cannot do anything against the pros. This isn’t a film, but a reality.
Kira is just an example— in any case, won’t get out of my head. But people can very well look for me, no joke.
Out on the porch, I put the key into the lock, paused for a moment and nodded slowly to myself. And for the first time I realized the seriousness of the situation. Apparently even a brief contemplation of the wall helps. I had a huge problem. And I was like a stupid moose breaking out into the field to eat the grass and be merry.
They were absolutely looking for me. The same Clan of the Sleepless, knowing that I am the Navigator.
The facts were simple, and it was eerily scary. I was bathed in sunlight, standing in the courtyard, but a chill ran down my back, as though Decay had found me in the real world.
An imaginary chain of events lined up into a very real one.
For example, the clan of the Black Baroness.
First. The Sleepless know that the character Rosgard is the Great Navigator.
Second. If the Sleepless have a mole placed in the Albatross clan, they will soon find out that the character Rosgard belongs to a certain Rostislav Grohotov. It is enough to imagine that Vlas is the mole… and things are already scary.
Because they will not know only my name, but also my old address, physical description, names of friends and of relative.
Third. I don’t live at the old address, so they will begin to seek me. Then, everything depends on who exactly is looking. If they are simple amateurs— they won’t find me. If they are serious people— they might find me.
Fourth. When they find me, they will act very simply— first they will show the seriousness of their intentions, and then they will force me to give up the title of Navigator. And when that happens— the card will have been played. There would be no reason to leave me alive— because I would immediately throw myself in communication with representatives of the administration of Valdira and will start a long and plaintive wail about the bad things that happened to me. No. They won’t allow that. I will suddenly disappear forever. Or suddenly commit suicide. Or get hit by a car… or both together. They won’t put me in a psych ward for sure… because my admiral father would pull me out quickly and begin to “dig.” To find out if his sonny is really crazy, or if there is some funny business going on.
And what did I do, in order to avoid this bad outcome?
Nothing clever. I went to an old friend and rented a house in the outskirts. I like in splendid isolation. As though trying to make things easier for the all
eged “bad guys.” After all, I took off under the watchful eye of Barbara Pavlovna.
And what to do now? The right thing. Move to a place where no one will think to look for me. To an unfamiliar city. Rent an apartment from strangers. To buy a bunch of food and hide in a hole until all the fever with the lost continent ends.
But now it’s too late to try— there is little money left.
In theory, I can return to my lonesome dwelling and strengthen my defenses. A powerful door. Lattices on the windows. An alarm system. Right… and then the “bad guys” will only be hit by electricity. As soon as the whole system is reset— they’ll try it again. The electrical bill is my Achilles’ heel— one can’t get to Valdira without an electrical kick. Maybe to buy some high power batteries?
Put a generator in the house? Bullshit… though depends on which way you look at it. In any case, I need a den in which I can be sure no one will find me.
I do not want to die.
Hm… and if I go back to my home? My parent’s apartment isn’t in a location which is easy to get to. And the neighbors aren’t simple there. Generally nothing is simple there…
No. This option will not work. I didn’t want to involve my parents in the problem. But to call my father and explain the situation is inevitable. Just in case. What if someone takes my mother hostage and demands I hand over the name of Navigator— but this is overkill. But I didn’t want to risk it. For that kind of money, you never know what people will do. So I’ll ring my dad right away. But first, I was going to mentally rehearse what I was to say.
I didn’t want to accidentally blurt something like “Dad, I’m the Navigator now! So take care of mom— she might be kidnapped!” My father’s reaction will be predictable. And he will immediately come to the city with people in white coats… and will put me in the loony bin himself…
I will rehearse my speech and call. I’ll just buy a cheap cell and SIM card. What if people are already tapping my phone calls… oo-oo-ooh… and here is he paranoia again. It was seizing me, as people say. And now I had personally led myself right to the nervous breakdown button.
The Way of the Clan 4 (World of Valdira) Page 13
