“Maxim, good evening, are you busy?”
“Oh, hey, Kif. No, this is perfect, actually. I just had a pile of papers dumped in front of me to sign, and you’re a great reason to be lazy.”
I laughed politely.
“Okay, so what’s up?”
“A couple strange things happened recently.”
I summarized the odd way I had to pick an item myself, and then tattled on Miurat and his despicable friend Ronin.
“I mean, the fact that they killed me doesn’t really matter,” I said, adding a tear to my voice. “That happens in the game. But the fact that he talked about how they could have the players all under their thumb, well, I’m sorry, but that doesn’t sound good. What does it mean that they have a lot of support outside the game? It sounds like they’re about to chop up your game, which means that somebody is starting to institute their own rules. And you can imagine the impact that will have.”
Zimin was silent long enough for me to wonder if I’d stepped out of line and should have kept my big mouth shut.
“Kif,” I heard finally. “Do you have a dacha?”
“Well, I wouldn’t call it a dacha, and it’s certainly no country house,” I replied honestly. “It’s barely even a house, really. Why? You think I need to hide out there for a little while? It’s a bit cold, Maxim. The season’s over; I’d freeze.”
“No, I’m just thinking about what I can give you as a reward for being so observant and staying on top of things. I’ll think about it a little more, but you should know that the company owns about forty dachas. Just call, and one of them is yours.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I said, scratching my head. I didn’t really need my own dacha, and that would mean just adding another headache to the pile. “I need to talk to my mom, and Vika, too, probably.”
“Vika has enough on her mind right now,” grunted Zimin. “I just saw her an hour and a half ago.”
“You did?” It was my turn to be surprised. “What did you need from her?”
“Me? Nothing; she was going to see Vezhleva, and I don’t know what Marina needed.” He paused before adding, “though I can guess.”
“Marina has quite the imagination, and I don’t think anybody knows what’s going on in that mind of hers,” I said with a grimace. “Though she’ll have her hands full with Vika—she’s a tough nut to crack, that one.”
“With enough money, you can crack pretty much any nut, that much I know for sure,” Zimin noted philosophically. “But Marina is incredibly stubborn, so I’ll need to have a chat with her to make sure she doesn’t try to pull something. That’s all the more important if you’re right about Vika having a bite to her as well. You know, I told you what to do, and you didn’t listen. If you’d have just slept with her, she’d have added your scalp to her collection and been done with it. She certainly doesn’t need you in your own right. But as a trophy, to put your head on her wall? Definitely. You might come in handy for her, too, for example, as a source.”
What struck me was that he’d said all of that easily, as if in passing. In the meantime, I had chills running up and down my spine.
“If I’d been sure that it would have turned out like that, I would have slept with her,” I muttered. “But I don’t think that’s how it would have ended. She’d have definitely wanted me as a source—and I don’t need that.”
“You all need something better to do,” Zimin said with a sigh. “Okay, I’m off. I need to think about what you said. Our admins need a rap on the knuckles, too, since they can’t seem to catch anything, and our analysts need a dressing-down. All of them!”
And he hung up. Regardless of the sour note the conversation ended on, I couldn’t help but smile. I wouldn’t be getting my runes back, but it looked like I’d buried that pig Miurat. I’d even gotten a little something out of it for myself.
Vika got home at exactly the wrong moment; I was happily stuffing my face with cold meat cutlets, my stomach growling.
“Why am I not surprised?” she noted quietly as she took off her boots. “Is it really that hard to warm them up? They taste so much better that way.”
“They taste fine cold,” I said with a shrug. “Really, they’re delicious.”
She exhaled, walked into the kitchen, sat down, and looked at me, her chin resting on her hands.
“That bad?” I asked between bites, looking at her worriedly.
“Depends on what you compare it to.” She smiled crookedly. “So, I stopped by Raidion…”
“Such a big building, and a nice-looking one, too,” I replied positively, putting the last cutlet on my plate. “So many elevators.”
“Yup,” Vika said, nodding. “Nice people, and they come with generous offers.”
“Really?” I clapped my hands against my cheeks. “What did they promise you?”
“A cushy spot in the organization, good pay, business trips, and not just to Yamalo-Nenets Autonomous Okrug or Kamchatka; they’ll send me to warm countries, too.”
“What about a barrel of jelly and a basket of cookies?” I asked, still worried.
She looked at me inquisitively. I sighed and waved at her, as if telling her to forget it. How should she know the books I read when I was little? I barely read them, myself. And that was only because my dad had some Gaidar[8] in his library.
“So what do they want in exchange for all the goodies?” I asked, giving her the question of the hour.
“Nothing much,” Vika replied carelessly, blowing away a lock of hair that had fallen over her eyes. “They want me to leave the paper, start working in management over there, and move into an apartment Raidion would offer as an incentive for being a promising employee. Oh, and I’m supposed to break up with you.”
“Just like that.” I picked up the last cutlet and looked it over, trying to decide if it would fit or not. In the end, I jammed it into my mouth.
“Yup, just like that.”
I chewed, my eyes bulging, while Vika looked at me. The smile on her face could have been pulled straight from the Mona Lisa. Finally, I got tired of it and gestured for her to keep going. What happened then?
“Why do you take such big bites?” Vika shook her head. “You’ll choke one of these days. What, you think somebody’s going to steal them? Or you think I won’t make them anymore?”
With that, she smiled sadly.
There it was. What did I say? Where a guy would have stalled as long as he could by weighing the options and getting caught up in vague logical calculations or, in other words, all the what-ifs, the little woman across from me quietly gave up on the dream she’d had for so long. And she did it for the sake of a cynic looking askance at life with whom she wasn’t even sure anything would turn out.
“Well, they offered us a dacha,” I said, having conquered the last of the cutlet. “The high command decided to reward us for the good work we’re doing. Do we want one?”
I hoped that little spoonful of sugar would help the medicine go down. There was no way I needed a dacha, seeing as how I couldn’t care less about being a landowner, but I figured it might give her something to do.
“A dacha?” Vika’s brows creased. “Is it far from Moscow?”
“I have no idea,” I replied. “These days, though, the farther away you are, the better. It’ll stay a dacha longer that way. Plus, there are so many mushroom-pickers near the city that you can’t find anything for yourself.”
“And are they giving it to us permanently or just for a little while?” Vika’s practicality astonished me. She’d switched over to the new topic immediately, and her eyes reflected canopied swings, a pool, paths, and even a fire. I thought I could see myself in them holding a shovel.
“Probably for good,” I replied uncertainly. “I can check.”
Vika got up and stretched. “Call tomorrow, see what they say, and ask where it is—just write down what they say. Write it down. Otherwise, you’ll forget. I know you! If they’re serious, we’ll go see it on Saturday. We sho
uld strike while the iron’s hot.”
She walked over and ruffled my hair. I held her hand and kissed her.
“Am I a fool for turning them down?” she asked. “I’m sure my friends would say I am, though I don’t think it’s true.”
“Either way, I’m not sure much good will come of joining forces with me, to be honest,” I replied. “Although, on the other hand—”
“Stop right there,” Vika said, stretching again. “I don’t know about you, you cynical cutlet-hound, but I’m jumping in the shower and heading to bed. And I hope I won’t be alone there.”
I grinned, letting her know that she wouldn’t be.
***
I waited until half past nine to call Zimin. Vezhleva was a threat, of course, but she wasn’t the biggest kid on the playground.
“Kif, aren’t you the early bird?” Zimin’s voice was bright and chipper. “And your timing is perfect—just like always.”
“Morning,” I replied, doing my best to add as much cheer as I could to my voice. “I have something I need to discuss.”
“Me, too,” Zimin said. “You start.”
I gave Zimin the short version of what had happened with Vika. “Marina is ambitious and stubborn. What do you think she might do?”
“Don’t go making mountains out of molehills.” Zimin coughed. “What? You think she’s the mafia or something? And tell your girlfriend to calm down, as well. If she wants a career, she’ll have her career. I’ll make sure that happens. Or, if she’d rather, we can just give her something easy and well-paid so she can have kids and do her thing.”
I coughed as well.
“For you, though,” Zimin said after a pause. “You’ll have four new employees showing up on Monday.”
“Shouldn’t there just have been three?” I asked.
“There should have been three, but there are going to be four,” Zimin replied, his voice slightly raised. “One of them is probably… Well, you get my drift?”
“Certainly.” He didn’t need to explain anything. “Which one?”
“That I don’t know,” he clucked his tongue. “I have a guess, but I’m not sure. And is it worth getting Azov involved? He’s more of a blunt instrument.”
“I’ll figure it out myself,” I said, realizing what he was looking for. “It’ll be fine.”
“Excellent. Is that it?”
“One last thing, you mentioned a dacha last night.”
“You know, I think I was wrong about your girl,” Zimin said. “She’s doing a good job with you, and people like that don’t break, no matter what life throws at them. I feel better knowing you’re in good hands. About the dachas, I’ll email you all the details, and you can pick which one you like best. Next week it’ll be yours. Sound good?”
“Better than good.” I really was happy to hear the news.
I’d gotten some cover for my girlfriend, and gotten something really nice for us in the process. Zimin was also on the alert after my call. That was important, too.
“Oh, Kif,” Zimin said, suddenly enunciating every word, “keep an eye on what’s happening in the game. Make sure you don’t get into trouble with either the Double Shields or the Hounds of Death, though I don’t want you to cozy up to them too much either—at least, that goes for the Shields. Something in between peace and war; I mean, keep the peace if you can, but don’t let it get to war under any circumstances. Got it? And see if you can find out what they’re arguing about.”
“Okay. And I’ll get back to you as soon as I hear anything.”
“Smart guy,” Zimin said before hanging up.
“Forget them. I think I’m going to go do love, not war—much more in it for me,” I said to no one in particular. To be honest, the intrigues and wars constantly swirling around them all were getting to me.
I went for a smoke, shivered from the cold autumn wind, took a maple leaf to the face, and jumped into the capsule.
***
Aegan was abuzz as always, though the only traffic the hotel got was the distant murmur of the market, the whistle of firecrackers, and the lazy calls of the city guard.
I walked quickly toward the miniature castle, a remarkable piece of architecture that I’d stopped next to the day before. Above it hung an emblem I knew very well: a tear poised in the middle of a circle. Where else did I have to go? They could at least give me some advice there, and they always had good connections.
There was a very young knight (much younger even than Gunther) standing by the entrance, and he had a weighty expression on his ruddy-cheeked face. I came to a stop in front of him.
“Good afternoon, my good knight,” I said to him in greeting.
“And to you a good day, my good man,” he replied amiably.
“Are there any of the order’s officers here right now?” I asked, all business, realizing that I’d get nowhere if the knight in front of me was representative of who they had there.
“Why do you ask?” His face turned serious.
“Oh, I just want to chat about a few things. I thought maybe someone I know would be here.”
“How would you know people in our order?” the knight asked, his smile a bit sarcastic.
“Don’t judge people by how they look, young man,” I replied. “My name is Hagen of Tronje, and I—”
“Oh, Sweet Goddess,” the knight said, blushing furiously. “You’re Hagen of Tronje, friend of the order!”
“I won’t argue with the obvious,” I responded with a nod. “That’s me.”
“You were the one who introduced Junior Master von Richter to the lady of his heart!”
“Mmm?” I was a bit taken aback.
I didn’t really care that Gunther had been promoted to junior master, though I was, of course, happy for my friend. What surprised me was that my great achievement wasn’t killing Fomor or the witch, or even freeing the North; it was that I’d introduced Gunther to crazy Kro. What’s wrong with that picture?
“Well, yes,” I said once I’d recovered, “I did.”
The knight fervently and haltingly told me a story, from which I gathered that there’d been a large autumn ball, with Kro there as the lady of my friend’s heart. She’d caused a stir that resulted in no less than seven duels, three knights heading out on multi-year missions for some kind of incredible artifacts, and the order minstrels making money hand over foot. Kro had apparently been as happy as a clam, though Gunther and the order leadership were furious that discipline had broken down thanks to the nonsensical, coquettish archer. In short, I had no idea who would be there to meet me…
“But that’s not all you’re famous for,” the young man said, enraptured. “You and Master von Richter killed witches, saved the North, and did all kinds of other great deeds!”
Thank God, at least something made it into my file.
“We had some fun,” I replied, striking the pose of a veteran who’d been around the block. “You know…”
“Laird Hagen,” the knight said, suddenly coming to attention. “I, Herbert von Ostin, am happy to welcome you to the mission of the Tearful Goddess Order in the great and free city of Aegan.”
I realized I needed to say something in reply.
“I…um…am happy to accept your invitation and enter the building. Hey, warrior, who’s in charge here?”
“Grandmaster Adalard von Ditmar,” Herbert responded quickly. “I’m sure he will be delighted to receive you, except that he’s currently somewhat busy. We’re in the middle of an inspection from the chapter…”
“I’d like to believe that he’d be delighted,” I said dubiously. “He won’t scare me, will he? I mean, the order leadership weren’t thrilled with my friend Kro.”
“What are you talking about?” It looked like von Ostin even took offense. “Everyone knows that you’re a friend of von Richter himself, and of the entire order, no less. A scroll from the great master was even sent around to everywhere we have a presence, making sure we knew we’re supposed to do everything w
e can to assist you should the need arise.”
Well, that’s certainly nice—getting a paper from the great master about me. My estimation of myself and what the locals thought of me was rising. Look at me go.
“Wow,” was all I said as I shook my head happily. Everything I’d gone through was starting to bear fruit.
“Laird Hagen.” The ruddy knight tugged on my sleeve. “Would you mind too terribly if I...”
“Come on, out with it,” I said, doing my best Grokkh impression. “Let’s hear it—short, clear, concise.”
“Do you have any other friends who could be the woman of my heart?” von Ostin asked, his question rushing out of him.
Ha! What am I, the Lonely Knight matchmaker? It wasn’t a terrible idea for a business—finding beautiful women for knights was cleaner work than I was used to. I could have even gone the other way as well, knights in shining armor riding mostly white horses for unlucky ladies. It was a bonanza. I decided to at least give it one quick try to see how it turned out.
Pulling up my friend list, I scrolled through and found Tren-Bren, who was online.
Hello, my lovely fairy friend. Are you in Aegan?
The answer was instantaneous.
Hey. Yes, I’m here. Where else would I be? I went into the forest three times. Twice I was killed by PKers, the other by a bear, the bastard. Driving me crazy…
I had to feel sorry for her.
Come over to the Tearful Goddess Order mission. Do you know where it is?
Tren-Bren told me how she knew the city like the back of her hand, seeing as how it was the only place she could fly around in. She got killed everywhere else she went. At least half her letter was swearing, which told me she was either used to working with her hands or a linguist.
“Okay, warrior,” I said, turning back to von Ostin and meeting his anxious gaze, “a lady is going to be dropping by. If you make a good impression on her, you’ll be fine.”
Tren-Bren swooped down from somewhere overhead and lighted on the porch.
“Hi,” she squeaked. “What’s up?”
“You won’t believe it,” I said, smiling. “I found a prince for you!”
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