Viper opened his mouth, but Kogan held up a hand to silence him.
“The tree was blue, with bright gold leaves. The tree asked me a question.”
“What?” Viper asked in shock.
“The tree asked me if I could have one thing, what would it be?” Kogan gave a sad laugh, “I said that I wanted to be the most powerful player in Verdia. I wanted to command armies and get my final revenge on you.” Kogan bowed his head, “The tree said I’m not asking what Kogan wants, I’m asking what Jeff wants.”
“Who’s Jeff?”
“I’m Jeff,” Kogan tapped his chest. He drew in a deep, shaky breath, “I told the tree…” he stammered, “…I told the tree what I really wanted.”
Viper was speechless. This unshakeable behemoth had been pounding him into fragments only moments ago. Now, Kogan was a slumping giant with a furrowed brow, harmless and broken.
Kogan composed himself, his voice less ragged and more forceful, “And the tree answered. What would you be willing to do for that? What would you give? I said anything. The tree responded, No matter what you have to give, this is something I cannot do.” Kogan frowned, “Then the tree asked me - if I had the power to give someone else their one wish, knowing that I would never see mine come true, if I could give someone else the gift of freedom, or joy, or peace, or whatever it was - if I would do what it took to make it happen.”
Kogan paused for a moment, making sure that Viper was looking at him, “I said yes. I know what it’s like to want one thing more than anything else, and know it will never be. If I could make it possible for someone else, I would pull the heavens down from the sky.”
Kogan reached behind one of the dinner plate sized roundels protecting his shoulder joint, and pulled out a shining golden leaf. The leaf was slender, glittering in the shade of the coliseum wall.
“You have feathers; I have a leaf. The tree told me that I would face a choice one day, a chance to live up to my promise, and that I would know that choice. The tree said that this leaf would remind me that I may never have my wish; but that I have power to make someone else’s come true. Then, I was back in Ra’ah, and I was a Paladin. Everyone wanted details, and I made up a story about killing a dragon.”
After a moment, Kogan handed his leaf to Viper. Viper took the leaf and turned it slowly.
Kogan spoke, “I did not realize it at the time but I had made a pact in that cavern. I would become a Paladin; I would be the most powerful player in the game. For this poor substitute for my real wish. I would ready to help whoever needed me most. I forgot about this pact until now.
“I’m starting to think that everyone carries a feather or a leaf with them. It’s supposed to be something that makes a person stronger, but sometimes they let the burden control them, or they convert it to anger or wrath. It becomes a weight around their neck, dragging them down and pulling them deeper. That was me, and until a few minutes ago I refused to face the fact that I will never be happy if I let anger consume me. I don’t know what your feathers mean to you, but I understand that they are hard to let go. I imagine they represent something that you can never have. I will honor my pact. Together we can give a gift we’ll never receive ourselves… even if this is just a game after all.”
Viper stared at the leaf, “If I asked you what your wish was, would you tell me?”
“Yes.”
“So you’ll help then?” Viper asked, handing the leaf back. “And what about you and me?”
“I’m done with anger,” Kogan grunted. “Let’s not speak of it again.”
“That’s it?” Viper asked apprehensively.
“Yes,” Kogan walked away. “I will bring everyone who will join me to the Warrior Tower. It’s asking a lot; I may be alone.”
“Thank you,” Viper said.
Kogan turned with a gruff warning, “Watch your back.”
Northern Plains
Christine plummeted in another screaming attack run. Columns of smoke dotted the plains below, marking the carcasses of her victims. Bishop saw the missile snaking upward, and braced himself when it slammed into his glowing force field. Bishop felt himself being torn from Christine’s back. He heard her shrieking in pain and fear. Metal fragments tore through his robe and seared his skin. Instinctively, he surrounded himself in an orb of pale blue light, and green grass rushed to meet him.
Bishop tumbled across the ground. He rolled to a stop and quickly got to his feet. Bishop had fallen outside the circle of Strykers.
Christine was roaring in the center of the ring. She propped herself up on shaky wings and screamed at the soldiers peppering her with rifle rounds. Torrents of flame spewed from her mouth, and she charged at a vehicle.
“No!” Bishop breathed, and stumbled toward the fray.
Christine threw her shoulder into the Stryker’s side, rocking it back on its wheels and nearly tipping it over. When it failed to flip, she clambered on top of its hull and arched her neck downward. Blue-white flame thundered from between her glittering teeth, boring a glowing hole in the black armor.
A Stryker on the far side of the circle fired a single shot, and a smoking shell whistled into Christine’s flank. She was knocked sideways, and staggered backward off the Stryker. Another shot hit her forearm and nearly tore it clean off. Christine roared and belched flame at the soldiers firing from what they thought was a safe distance. They were engulfed, falling over and trying to extinguish themselves by rolling in the grass.
Christine was struck in the chest by a third shot. She took three lurching steps and slowly sagged onto her belly. Hundreds of rifle and machinegun bullets spattered and sparked off her iridescent scales. Slowly, her mother-of-pearl eyes grew dull, and closed.
“Christine!” Bishop yelled. “Get up!”
He skimmed over the grass on his blue riding disc. His eyes blurry with sadness and anger, Bishop raised his staff and prepared to conjure a storm. Soon he would be past the Strykers and inside the circle, where he could unleash a furious tempest upon the Marines.
Wisp dove out of the grass and tackled him. The magic disc spun away and disappeared with a pop. Wisp held Bishop down and scowled at him.
“Are you crazy? We have to get out of here.”
“We can’t leave her,” Bishop choked out. “I have to say good bye. I didn’t get to say good bye last time!”
Wisp grimaced, “There’s nothing we can do. We need to leave.”
Bishop’s eyes flicked to the machine gun barrel poking above Wisp’s shoulder, “What’s that?”
“A gun. I’m not even sure I can use it.”
Bishop pushed Wisp off him and stood up, “I can. Give it here.”
Wisp turned apprehensively toward the wall of vehicles in front of them. They were currently out of sight, but would not be for long, “We can’t do anything.”
“Give me the rifle,” Bishop commanded.
Wisp unslung the machine gun and handed it to Bishop. It appeared decidedly smaller in Bishop’s hands than in Wisp’s. Bishop leaned on his staff and turned the gun on its side before grunting in approval. He raised the rifle to his shoulder and began stomping toward the circle of vehicles.
“I’m coming with you,” Wisp said.
“Stay close to me,” Bishop replied softly. His face was stern and rigid with concentration.
They passed between two Strykers at a walking pace. Bishop raised Crucible, and the staff projected a shimmering golden shield around them.
Marines fired at Bishop. The magical shield warbled and sang, scattering traces of light with each bullet strike. Bishop lowered his machine gun, braced it in the crook of his arm, and fired in long bursts. The machine gun hammered out a stream of bullets that caught fire with golden light when they passed through the shield.
Wisp marched behind Bishop, flinging darts whenever a target presented itself. Marines dropped prone or ducked behind their vehicles for cover. The group closest to Christine, the soldiers who were checking to make sure she was dead for goo
d, were cut down quickly.
Bishop’s rifle clicked empty and he tossed it aside. A storm of bullets continued as he approached Christine’s lifeless body. He placed a hand on her neck and bowed his head. Her skin and scales were still warm to the touch; the furnace inside of her yet to die down. After a brief moment, he reached forward and took a handful of feathers that sprouted around the spiny ridges on her head.
The shield rattled and dimmed. Once powerful golden light was now sputtering with each bullet strike. Soon it would break and the bullets would get through.
“Can we leave now?” Wisp asked, flicking a dart at a Marine who peeked over a loading ramp. The metal shard caught fire as it passed through the shield, and buried itself in the soldier’s helmet with a sizzle.
Bishop glanced down at the feathers he was holding. He tucked them into his robe, pulled a bailout from his sleeve, and placed his hand on Wisp’s shoulder, “It’s time to go.”
Dalton HQ
Brook fumed behind his desk. Alex stood, leaning against a chair. His refusal to sit was a statement of his will to exercise what little control remained to him. He wore a smug grin until Brook looked up at him.
“This is a disaster!” Brook barked. “How did players get ahold of your weapons?”
White’s voice projected from a speaker on Brook’s desk, “The rifle was part of the payment to Grave. I admit that allowing the Conquerors access to assault rifles was an oversight, but they were supposed to stay with our convoy. It’s a little late to pretend you don’t know what’s going on.”
“Where I come from you get paid when you complete the job, not before. You also control your resources. How am I supposed to tell world governments that they can trust us with everything, when we can’t kill a single damn wolf in our own world without causing a nightmare of collateral damage? How do I tell stockholders that they will get a return on their investment?”
“The dragon is neutralized. Grave is back with us and he has promised not to leave again. We have things under control,” White responded, his voice dry.
“You had better hope so, Omni,” Brook snarled, turning his fury to another target. “Now, the Explorers could get involved. Everyone is going to think this has something to do with your ridiculous contest, and we could have an in-game riot on our hands. If this goes any further south we may have to pull the plug on your little game. Every fear about your stability is coming true. Our competitors are sneering and the critics are raising their glasses in toasts to their predictions of your failure. It’s about time you started doing grown-up work.”
Alex gritted his teeth, but he held his tongue.
Omni did not have a tongue to hold. “Let me make something infinitely clear,” Omni responded darkly; his tone serious and harsh. “If you meddle further than I have instructed, if you do anything to upset Verdia or alter it, you will never make a penny from my abilities.”
“Listen you bundle of wires. We created you and we...”
“You are POWERLESS!” Omni boomed. “I am the conductor of this symphony, and you are a string on a violin. I am the captain of this ship, and you are a bolt on a bearing on an auxiliary bilge pump. I am the painter of this landscape, and you are a leaf on a tree in the background. You are nothing; I do not answer to you. I answer to myself.”
Silence lingered after Omni’s outburst. Alex sucked in a deep breath. He gripped the chair back to keep from shaking. Few would admit it, but Omni had evolved enough that it would be nearly impossible to stop him from doing whatever he wished.
“Omni, I’m trying to help you get what you want.” A bead of sweat trickled down Brook’s forehead. “We’ve been playing along with you on this wolf thing, but it’s starting to affect our opportunities. If this doesn’t end soon, it may get to a point where we are forced to stop the game. The FDA, for example, is scrutinizing the safety of the system. How can we be trusted with people’s minds if we can’t control the game? We can’t keep fooling everyone on this forever.”
“This will be over soon,” Omni replied. “You should then be able to carry on with your plans. Until then, you do as I say, and keep control of your agents within the game. I do not wish to interfere any more than I already have.”
Brook nodded, “Understood.”
“I want you to come back in, Alex,” Omni said. “I want someone here who understands me.”
“I don’t agree with any of this,” Alex replied. “You are abusing your power, and you are allowing greed to hold sway over compassion. You have the ability to make all of this right.”
“How do you know what is right? I surely do not. That is what I am trying to discover. It would be an abuse of my power to act from a place of ignorance.”
“But you aren’t ignorant of the methods being used here,” Alex retorted.
“I will allow what I think is necessary to solve this riddle, nothing more.”
Brook interrupted, “Can you take this elsewhere? I have enough to deal with without listening to your internal moral struggles. This is a business; we are here to make money.”
“If I sign back in,” Alex said to Omni, “you have to talk to me.”
Omni paused before replying, “I promise I will tell you everything I can as soon as I know it.”
“I’ll see you in the game.”
Northern Plains
A low hill provided a view of the flat terrain. To the north, a white cliff cut a low notch from the sky. The White Plateau clung to the horizon, a strong symbol as a finish line and an end to a long struggle.
Bishop leaned on his staff and watched an armada of gray clouds. He heard the thud of hooves on grass as Viper approached, and he forced himself to lift his eyes.
Ben was stretched out on Gabe’s broad back, looking at the thin clouds that swirled overhead. Laura and Athena were braiding Haymaker’s blue mane, to Wisp’s amusement. The sky here was pale, and the sun was weak.
The hoof-beats slowed, and stopped. Viper did not speak. He looked down at Bishop, his eyes tinged with a strange sadness.
“You look like hell,” Haymaker muttered. He stood up and shook the braids from his hair.
“Language,” Bishop scolded.
But Haymaker was right: Viper’s armor was missing scales along his ribs, exposing the dark silvery dragonskin beneath. His helmet was dented; there was a gash in his arm, and the feathers on his right forearm were missing. Dried blood filled the cracks and gaps in the armor; wipe marks revealed his vain attempts to clean it all off.
Viper narrowed his eyes, “Where’s the dragon?”
“Dead,” Bishop replied. “They shot her up.”
“We got five or six of their vehicles though,” Wisp interjected. “And at least thirty soldiers. I don’t think they can spawn in front of us, or they would have done it already. They’re out of the fight.”
“The soldiers are closer than we thought,” Bishop continued, “They will probably overtake us and reach the gorge from the west side before we can get there. We’ll have to sneak around the east side and find a different way.”
Viper stared at the group for some time before Venom trotted forward. The others parted way as Viper moved through them. He turned back when they did not follow, “Are you coming or not?”
Laura gasped, “You’re going to stay with us? Even though…” She did not want to finish the sentence.
Bishop straightened and faced Viper, “I have nothing to pay you with. If you leave now I won’t hold it against you. Most men would walk away at this point.”
Viper’s eyes flicked skyward for a brief second before returning to Bishop, “We aren’t most men, are we? I’ll get you to the plateau,” Venom trotted over to Laura and Viper extended his hand, “then I’m done.”
Bishop grinned in response, but his inquisitive eyes lingered on Viper’s, until Viper nervously looked away.
“What about Kogan?” Athena asked. “Will he help us?”
“He said he would,” Viper urged Venom into a canter. “He ne
ver lies.”
Viper set a blistering pace, with Gabe hobbling close behind Venom. The group struggled to keep up. As the White Plateau loomed larger, and the air grew frosty and crisp, the grass at their feet became ever more pale and sparse. Loneliness and despair filled this cold country.
Gabe’s spirits, and Ben’s, went in the opposite direction. The farther north they ran - the closer to their goal - the more excited and energetic they became. Unbidden, Ben began rapidly explaining to Haymaker how he had forged his gauntlets, shouting excitedly through the wind at a recipient who was more interested in keeping up the pace than getting a metallurgy lesson.
The others sensed the change and felt it themselves. A contagious feeling of hope swept over them. They were close, and it might be possible to pull things off.
Bishop shared a small part of this feeling, but he was preoccupied. He zipped along on his disc, somber and brooding. From time to time he would pull the glittering feathers from his robe and turn them over in his hand. He knew more than ever that when this ordeal was over, and he watched Ben disappear into the snowy forests of the plateau, he would log off the game and never play again. Verdia was his self -made prison - a way to ignore the pain of being alone for the first time in fifty years. It was time to move on.
Bishop forced himself to smile, and released the feathers to the wind. He allowed the positive energy charging his fellow travelers to take hold. In a way, the White Plateau meant freedom for Charles King as well as for Ben and Gabe.
Chapter 20
Four Winds and True Friends
Verdia City
A white “Closed” sign clattered to the floor as Kogan forced Limerick’s heavy door open. He stomped through the waiting area, waved to Kate, and let himself into Limerick’s office.
Limerick was flicking through screens on his Character Manager and muttering to himself when Kogan startled him with a hearty hello.
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