by Michael Ryan
“No.”
“Tom?” Dale said.
“I don’t care. We’ll find out soon enough,” Tom answered. “My concern is whether they got the other swordplay correctly calibrated.” He leered at Galina.
“Nakhal,” she said.
“Seksual’nyy printsessa,” he replied with a smile.
“Lesbian skill decreased,” Smith deadpanned.
“If this war is like the game, then does that mean we’re going to be fighting other sentient beings at some point?”
“What war?” another soldier who’d wandered into their conversation asked.
“You know, the Nagant War,” Dale answered.
“You mean Nagant Wars?” the soldier asked.
“Whatever,” Dale said. “I mean…”
“I’m Sanjay Patel,” the soldier said. “Nice to meet you.”
“Same,” Dale said. “Do you understand what I’m talking about?”
“Jesus, Dale,” Smith said. “Sanjay, just ignore him. He’s always overthinking things.”
“He needs to get laid,” Tom said. “But not by a Russian. First, an Asian girl, I think.”
“Hey, screw you,” an Asian girl said.
“Exactly what I was hoping you’d say,” the Russian said. “My name is Tom.”
“Buta,” the Asian girl said.
“Ignore him,” Galina said, and then pointed ahead. “Look. The castle.”
Chapter Twenty
I want to plunder her the way the imperialists have dreamt of plundering Russia.
~ Tom Kapralov
Dale peered through evergreen trees, and sure enough, the tops of the castle towers appeared through the branches.
The platoon approached, staying inside the tree line, hidden from view.
The castle was medieval and constructed with square gray stones. It had a moat, a drawbridge, and a few banners hung from the ramparts.
They appeared to have corporate logos.
“I can see someone spent top dollar on design,” Tom said.
“It’s just a training thing,” Sanjay said. He spoke with quiet confidence.
“It’s the government and Rhith Corp,” Tom argued. “They had a contract bid out for that monstrosity. Probably an outrageous fortune. Any guess who built it? One of your cousins, in a sweatshop in New Delhi.”
“Don’t be racist,” the Asian girl said. “You’re not a nice–”
“No,” Sanjay interrupted her. “He’s right. The military-corporate complex does exploit my people. I have cousins who program, and–”
“Alright, enough of the politics,” Smith blurted. “Dale, we need a workable plan. Unless you guys want to sit out here all day and argue about the geopolitical problems imposed by the Western nations on the–”
“Okay, okay,” Dale said. “You made your point.”
“What do you guys think?” Galina asked, nodding toward the castle.
“I don’t like it,” Smith said. “Too much open ground to cover.” He retrieved his binoculars and scanned the surrounding areas. “I don’t see a clear way to attack without being completely exposed.”
“There must be a sneak,” Dale said. He faced the group. “Whose got any sneak skills?”
“I don’t think anyone has any yet,” Galina said. “I mean, you can’t–”
“I do,” Sanjay said. “I’ve been in-country for months. I did some beta work, and–”
“Quiet, hand-eater,” Tom said. “We don’t need your résumé. I, too, have sneak.”
“Holy shit!” Dale yelled suddenly. He jumped into the air and spun around. “You trying to give me a heart attack?”
A small, slender woman with cocoa skin and a nasty scar across her face stood in the spot Dale had jumped from. She displayed a long dagger and a scowl. “I can sneak alright.”
Tom dropped to the ground laughing. “You should have seen your face, Dale,” he said. “Hold on, hold on.” He sat on the ground and closed his eyes. He whispered, “Replay,” and laughed again. “Tag Dale’s face,” Tom said before opening his eyes. “That’s some funny shit. We haven’t met yet; I’m Tom.” He extended his hand to the woman who’d made Dale jump.
She looked at him for a couple of seconds, then took a step, outstretched her hand, and helped him to his feet. “Kim,” she said. “Kim Ayanna.”
“Thanks,” he said. He looked her up and down. “Your scar. A vain woman would have had it removed,” he stated.
“I know who I am,” Kim said.
“I like.”
“Okay, this isn’t Bachelorette forty,” Dale said. “We need to get serious.”
“Bachelorette is only on season thirty-eight,” Galina corrected. “It’s behind a few years due to the civil unrest–”
“God,” Smith exclaimed. He sat on the ground and stared at the sky. “They did a nice job with the clouds.”
“Help me, someone,” Dale said.
“You,” Tom said to Dale, pointing at his chest. “Telesnyy. Corporal. Take lead.”
“Alright,” Dale said. “Listen up.”
Soldiers milled around.
“Listen to him,” Tom said. He didn’t shout, but his voice sent a chill up Dale’s spine. “Dale speaks. You listen.” The Russian scanned the group and put a hand on Dale’s shoulder. “You obey leader, or I put boot up ass.”
“Thanks,” Dale said. “Everyone! Split into three groups behind one of these three.” He pointed to Tom, Kim, and Sanjay. “Adjust your comms to the same frequency as your team leaders.”
The group split up and created three equal lines. Dale was impressed how smoothly things went when qualified people were involved.
Being scared of Tom probably didn’t hurt either.
He examined the three newly appointed squad leaders.
Tom was tall and light skinned. He had a lot of tattoos and was kind of scary looking.
Sanjay was brown skinned, small figured, and was a stereotypical Indian nerd.
Kim had a dark complexion and seemed relaxed when speaking with Tom.
“Introduce yourselves,” Dale said to the squads. “Then get on the same channels and coordinate with Smith. He’ll be the intermediate between the squad leaders and me.”
“Can I get your email?” Tom said to Kim.
She frowned for a moment, but then closed her eyes and smiled.
“Thanks,” he said.
“Alright!” Dale shouted. “Pay attention. Your names are Team Tom, Team San, and Team Kim. Use your handles in communications or create a subprogram – just make it clear. Next on the agenda is what to do about loot. We equally split everything we’re permitted to split. If you want more skill points, well, take more risks. That’s on you. Don’t screw anyone else over. Agreed?”
Dale waited a few seconds.
Dale: Ërin?
Ërin: You’re good. Everyone accepted.
Perfect.
You’re a good leader.
I wish.
You’re learning. You’ll get it. Take charge.
It’s a new–
Learn from the Russian.
I thought so, too.
Handsome.
You like tattoos?
I meant you, silly. Baby, there’s nobody else.
Stop.
It’s true.
Great, I have a non-corporeal being in love with me.
It’s a start.
Dale smiled at the group. “Perfect. Everyone’s on board. We’re a true team.”
“What’s next?” Smith asked.
“I’m going up this tree.” Dale climbed the tallest nearby pine tree until he had a clear view of the castle. “Team Kim, go back in the direction we traveled, and follow the gorge toward the castle. Smith, set up live tracking of each group for me.”
“Give me two,” Smith said.
“Team Tom, continue heading downhill a half a kilometer.”
“Da.”
“Team San?”
“Yes, here,” Sanjay answered. “Where do you w
ant us?”
“Start searching behind us. Look for an outcropping of rocks, a cave, a mine tunnel, something that would indicate a passageway.”
“Got it.”
“Everyone head out,” Dale said. “Keep in communication and look for anomalies.”
Dale climbed farther up the tree and monitored the squads.
Team San found something first.
“We’ve got a small cave,” Sanjay said over the commlink.
Dale found Sanjay behind a small hill about three-quarters of a kilometer away from the castle.
“I have a couple of puzzle solvers in there,” Sanjay said.
Hidden inside the cave was a ten-by-ten grid filled with numbers.
“I’ve seen one of these before,” Dale said.
“They’ve been looking for a pattern,” Sanjay said.
“Nothing has jumped out yet,” one of the soldiers said.
“The key I used in Mount Dog was pi. A trapdoor opened, and we fell into a spider nest.”
“You’re the guy that died?”
“Yup. That’s my claim to fame. Trust me, it’s worse than it sounds,” Dale said.
Dale: Ërin?
Ërin: If I help you, no loot.
I could sacrifice for the good of the group.
No, Dale. If you use a cheat, you negate loot drops for everyone. You’re all tied together.
“Shit,” Dale said.
The first soldier shook his head and said, “I know–”
“No, I meant…never mind.”
The grid was different than the previous one. The upper left square contained the number one. The next square also had a one, but the rest of the squares held random numbers.
16796
6564120-
429
14
742900
128990-
42
And ninety-one more.
Dale opened his commlink to Smith. “You there?”
“Yeah, I’m still at the tree. Nothing new to report.”
Dale instructed Ërin to send a picture of the grid to Smith.
“Get the teams working on this. Tell them we’re looking for a pattern similar to pi or the Fibonacci sequence, but no cheats or we’ll lose XP and loot.”
“You got it, Captain,” Smith said.
“It’s corporal,” Dale replied.
“Aye-aye.”
“And I’m not a pirate either.”
Dale turned back to Sanjay. “When we open the lock, there’s going to be a trapdoor or something. Be prepared for anything.”
“Except no dragonlings,” Sanjay pointed out.
“That’s what they said,” Dale agreed, “but it is the military.”
“Understood. I’ll have a few soldiers make torches,” Sanjay said.
“Get some rope, too,” Dale ordered. “We’ll tie off whoever pushes the buttons in case a trapdoor opens.”
“Good idea.”
“They come to you when you’ve plunged to your death once already.”
“Dale?” Smith asked over the commlink.
“Go ahead,” Dale answered.
“I found a math nerd. Private Rasulov, go ahead.”
A Russian accent spoke over the shared commlink. “I think the puzzle is a Catalan sequence. The longer numbers, the ones with hyphens, are actually one number, you have to find the–”
“Hold on,” Dale interrupted.
Dale: Ërin, can you set it up so that Rasulov can see the grid and virtually push the buttons himself?
Ërin: Of course.
Make it happen, okay?
Orders sent to Rasulov’s AI.
Dale looked at Sanjay. “Okay, here we go. Get the soldiers with torches near the front. Everyone, weapons ready.”
“Smith?”
“Go ahead.”
“I’ll try to maintain contact. If we get cut off, send someone to find us. If we all die, you’re in charge. Have the other two teams storm the castle.”
“Roger.”
“Okay, Sanjay. Here goes.”
Dale: Ërin, go ahead with Rasulov.
Ërin: Sending now.
Dale’s AI highlighted the numbers for him to push in sequence.
1
1
2
5
14
42
132
429
1430
When he approached the hundredth push, his heart began to race. “Get ready, Sanjay,” he whispered.
He hit the last button, and nothing happened.
“Now what?” Dale asked, mostly to himself.
He searched for anything that might have changed and leaned against the stone wall to think when he’d exhausted his search.
The wall shifted slightly.
“Give me a hand,” he ordered.
They pushed at the edge, and the wall pivoted.
A tunnel appeared behind it.
“Torches,” Sanjay said.
Three members of the team cautiously crept into the passage with their torches held high. A cloud of bats scattered. Dale led them into the darkness.
A foul stench enveloped them, and several soldiers gagged.
One of the torchbearers vomited.
“What’s that smell?” someone asked.
“Death,” a private answered.
“Why in God’s name would someone program something this horrible?”
“It smells like a rotting corpse,” someone in the back of the line said. “If zombies attack, aim for their heads.”
“You’ve been watching too much TV,” the first soldier said.
“It’s good to know the tropes.”
“Follow me,” Dale said. “You’ll get used to the smell.”
“I don’t want to get used to this,” Sanjay said.
“Sanjay, leave a soldier outside, and then one every fifty meters. I’d like to maintain comm with Smith.”
“Done,” he said.
Dale batted away a flock of bats.
Ërin: It’s a colony, not a flock.
Dale: Don’t be so pedantic.
“Are they dangerous?” Sanjay asked.
“Naw, they’re flair,” Dale answered. He struck one down with his sword and spread the wings of the creature apart. “Look.”
“What am I looking at?” Sanjay asked.
“The bone structure of this creature,” Dale answered. “I recognize this work. It’s a harmless thing, yet see here.” He traced a finger along the bat’s wing. “The work is exquisite.”
“A top programmer,” Sanjay agreed.
Dale tossed the bat aside. “It’s the exact opposite of that roughly designed castle. Pure art, really.”
“And?”
“It means someone went to the trouble to put highly designed creatures in here, so don’t assume anything. Our danger might not be zombies or something obvious. It could be a simple creature, something appearing harmless, like a mouse.”
They continued marching farther away from the entrance. The walls of the passageway remained unadorned natural stone. Spiderwebs hung from the ceiling to the walls, but none of the cobwebs looked fresh.
They came to a set of descending stairs.
Dale, who marched at the point, stopped. “Hold that torch up for me,” he commanded.
A hanging apparatus with long metal spikes was suspended from the ceiling above the top step. Dale used his sword to find the trigger, and when he pushed the third step, the entire contraption dropped onto the stairwell.
Sharp metal points cracked the stone at his feet.
Intertwined in the trap was a skeleton. Short boney horns protruded from its skull. In its fingers was a black dagger, and Dale retrieved it.
Congratulations!
You’ve discovered: Onyx Assassin’s Dagger.
Level: 8
Class: Rare.
Durability: 20/20.
Qualities: Grooved along both sides to apply the orc-spider toxin hidden in
the handle. For use when an enemy deserves to suffer without mercy before death.
A new dagger materialized in a mist of cerulean blue.
“Nice,” said the soldier holding the torch. He picked up the blade, and the mist produced another dagger.
“Looks like we all get the same loot drop here,” Dale said. “Everyone hurry up so we can keep moving.”
He began walking down the stairwell. “Smith?” he asked over the commlink. “Can you still hear me?”
“Roger,” Smith answered.
“We just passed a trap. I think this is probably the best way.”
“Should the other groups join you?”
“Not yet. I want to be positive this isn’t a dead end.”
They continued without incident for another three hundred meters, where they arrived at a wooden door with a rusty iron knob and an old-fashioned keyhole.
Dale reached for the knob, but a funny feeling in his gut stopped him. He gently tapped his sword on the iron handle, and an aggressive, ugly brown spider leapt out and bit the sword over and over.
“Good thing I read The Princess Bride recently,” he whispered to nobody in particular.
“You have strange tastes,” someone commented.
Dale smashed the creature, and a lime-green mist rose from it.
As the mist dissipated, a silver coin appeared.
Congratulations!
You’ve discovered a drachma.
Hint: He who has no money doesn’t fear being robbed by bandits.
“Be ready,” Dale said. “Something’s coming. I can feel it.”
“Oh, shit,” Sanjay said, “they’re here.”
Spiders dropped from the ceiling.
“I hate spiders,” a female soldier said.
“The programmers could have been more imaginative,” an Indian kid, who was normally quiet, said. “I would have–”
He was stopped short by a scream.
The group stomped spiders with their boots and hacked at them with swords. The torch-bearing soldiers torched the arachnids. Someone dropped their torch. Another soldier swung his sword wildly and struck a comrade. A bloodcurdling scream tore through the dark recesses of the room.
Dale killed dozens and dozens of mobs, but every dead enemy was replaced with a fresh one. He moved against a wall so he could keep the attacking spiders in front of him.
Dale: God, I’m barely able to hold my sword steady.
Ërin: It’s the PTSD. You’ll overcome it. And I’m not God. Godlike and perfect, but still, not a deity.
