The Citadel (Mirror World Book #2)

by Alexey Osadchuk

  "I see... if you don't do it, someone else will."

  "Of course. It can't be otherwise."

  "Probably not, no... not for your type of person."

  "What about your type?"

  "For my type, things are much simpler in the long run. My goals might seem too boring for the likes of you. A home, a family, a steady life that throws no unpleasant surprises at you."

  He shrugged. "To each his own. I'm pretty sure we can manage that."

  I was pretty sure they could. Problem was, I wanted to manage my own life. Still, I asked,

  "So what do I need to do?"

  He nodded his understanding. "We have several suitable scenarios."

  "Suitable for whom?"

  "Both for you and for us."

  "I'm all ears."

  He brought his coffee cup to his lips and took a tiny sip. "Allow me to expand on this a little."

  "Be my guest."

  He gave me a curt nod.

  With every word he uttered, I sensed there was more to it. This wasn't about my Master level. There was something else they wanted from me. And I had a funny feeling I knew what it might be.

  "As I already said, the game keeps evolving," Tanor was saying. "It has already been through several stages in its development, all equally important for its formation."

  "Let me guess. Clan wars?"

  "If you wish," he replied. "You got the idea, anyway. All the known territories were carved up. The clans of Light signed a peace agreement which makes our part of the world a relatively quiet place. The Darkies can't say the same, I'm afraid."

  "Are they still at war with each other?"

  "They are. But everything's relative, according to Einstein. What would have weakened them in the real world, makes them stronger here."

  "Sorry, I don't quite understand."

  "What's a war? It's primarily human losses. You can't bring your soldiers back to life. Here, the opposite is true. The more battles you fight, the more XP your players get. If you look at the rankings, you'll see that already we're lagging behind the Darkies. This last raid of the Independents has shown everyone how weak we are. They managed to invade our territory with three hundred fighters whose levels averaged 200. If you had told me this was possible a month ago, I'd have never believed you."

  "Does that mean that the clans of Light need an internal conflict?"

  "That's what we used to think until very recently. Especially seeing as we had plenty of reasons for our own conflict. Too many issues have accumulated over time."

  "If you'll excuse me... but doesn't it sound cynical to you?"

  He gave me a sarcastic smile. "You think it's any different in the real world?"

  I shrugged. I had nothing to say to that.

  "The recent announcement of No-Man's Lands available for colonization has shifted our priorities," he continued. "We have to set aside our internal differences. This is the beginning of a long-term confrontation."

  "So you think a war is inevitable?"

  "Of course," he replied with a smile. "And I assure you that everyone in Mirror World is looking forward to it. The game developers first of all. This sort of war will call for exorbitant resources. Money, workforces, the army... Neither us nor the Darkies are ready for a conflict of this proportion."

  "I see. You have your work cut out for you before you can even come to blows. Waging war in No-Man's Lands is no walk in the park."

  Shit! I'd put my foot in it, hadn't I?

  Tanor's gaze alighted on me, attentive. "You know what? Had it not been so absurd, I might have thought you've already ventured out beyond the Citadel's walls."

  I flashed him a naïve smile. "Now that would be a bunch of laughs. With my super pick for a weapon and my armored pants for mob protection."

  He grinned. "You would look a sight, you're dead right there," he appeared to be smiling but his eyes remained pensive. "So where was I?"

  "The war expenses."

  "That's right. You can't even start to imagine the costs. The changes involved — this world hasn't seen anything like it. Which is why we're currently deploying all our resources."

  "Including me?"

  "Absolutely. First and foremost."

  "I already said it looked like too much effort for even a Master player."

  "Well, firstly, your progress has been impressively rapid. You promised a certain person you would do that-"

  "Ah, so it's Shantarsky..."

  He smiled. "And not only him. You were quite naïve if you thought that you could keep your account's true potential under wraps for very long."

  "But who, apart from Shantarsky-"

  "I assure you that Shantarsky only confirmed what we already knew."

  I decided to test the waters. "This is classified information, isn't it?"

  He beamed. "Not at all! We don't have any secrets from you. You'd like to know where you made a mistake, wouldn't you? Heh! Very well. It might be useful for you to know that all good clans monitor the progress of all workers who show a certain potential. We received the first signal when you first leveled up. It just happened too quickly."

  "Wait a sec..."

  "Of course. The Mine Diggers Guild. Did you ever ask yourself why it was manned by players? Shouldn't NPCs be doing this kind of work?"

  I remembered the smiley she-dwarf teller in the Guild's locket. How she'd congratulated me on reaching a new skill level... "Aren't you afraid I might file a complaint with the admins for disclosing my personal data?"

  "You wouldn't be the first. By the time they get to it, find the culprits and close the case..."

  "What do you mean, close?"

  "Easy. What do you know about the Reflex Corporation?"

  "Oh. Not much. I know they own the game."

  "Is that it? Know anything of their other business activities?"

  "No."

  He massaged his chin. "You're a virgin case, aren't you? Then again, why should I be surprised? You didn't have time to frequent forums, did you? You virtually live in the game. So basically, Reflex controls lots of social programs. One of which is called World Without Borders."

  I frowned. "I think I heard something about them in the news. Some kind of international program for people with disabilities? What's that got to do with me filing a complaint?"

  "Everything. It wasn't just people with disabilities they mentioned on TV, remember? Large families in difficulty, single mothers, senior citizens, orphaned children... now who do you think work as guild clerks? Aha. I can see you understand. Then you need to realize another thing: we're involved in lots of social programs. World Without Borders is only one of them."

  "All you want to say is they grass other players up?"

  He smiled. "Sort of. I can assure you that our informants sincerely believe they're helping people like you find better employment. So if you begin to protest and file complaints, no one will understand you. The most you might achieve is public condemnation."

  I scratched the back of my head. Oh. Surprises never cease.

  "Come on," he said happily. "Cheer up. Everything is working out fine, isn't it?"

  This I was yet to see. "Did you do a check on my friends too?"

  "A very superficial one," he said casually. "Which only confirmed our previous suspicions, albeit indirectly. Your escape from the spider instance was especially amusing. Flint and his men are still trying to work out what happened there. Very clever. My congratulations."

  "I see. Then you received another signal from the guild about my upcoming leveling, after which you..."

  "We had a brief talk with Shantarsky which made everything perfectly clear. And then you disappeared. You've given our sleuths a run for their money!"

  I chuckled. "I can imagine how happy you were to discover the contract I signed with Lady Mel."

  He laughed. "You can say that! We'd never have thought of looking for you in the capital, of all places. And then we received the news..."

  I closed my eyes and
rubbed the bridge of my nose. "I still can't wrap my head around it. The Analytic Department. The sleuths. All for the sake of a Grinder?"

  He shrugged. "Why not? You're a Master. My gut feeling tells me that had you had the chance to farm higher-level resources, I'd have been talking to an Expert now. The top office gives the runaround to its workers for much less important cases. You're a Godsend for the clan. Your input will boost the power of many of the clan's top players. Which will result in the clan's growth too."

  "I'm sorry. There must be something else to it. Has to be."

  His stare leadened. Even the color of his eyes seemed to have darkened. This was the real Tanor: cruel, hard and unsmiling. Something told me this wasn't just a humble head hunter.

  "Enough pussyfooting around," he quipped. "We're losing time. You need the money, we need your skills. We can offer you the sum you need and a highly paid job to go with it. Plus a bonus from all the raids and war campaigns."

  I nodded. "Generous enough. What do you want in return?"

  "To join the clan with all the rights and responsibilities it entails."

  "You want to say that the current contract won't cut it?"

  "No," he snapped. "We can't take the risk. Too much at stake. We're on the brink of war. We need all the resources we can muster. We can't afford a freelance Expert Digger. Only a clan member. It's much better for you, trust me. A calm location. Excellent weather conditions. Quality gear on the house. Finally, protection."

  "What about my responsibilities?"

  "Working for the clan."

  "Is that all?"

  "It is."

  Wearily I rubbed my forehead and looked up at him. "I need some time to think."

  With a heavy sigh he slumped against the back of his seat. "Please do. You have a week. There're a few things you need to consider though."

  "Which are?"

  "I doubt the bank will give you the sum you need. We can give you more. In either case, you'll have to pay it back."

  "Of course. I'm quite prepared to work for it."

  He curved his mouth in a grin. "We know. As long as you understand that if you refuse our offer, you might find it extremely hard to find another employment."

  * * *

  Our parting was rather subdued. The representative paid for the coffee and left the tavern. I sat there for a while, staring out the window.

  My mind was racing, thoughts fluttering around like moths trapped in a glass jar.

  Had I done the right thing? I really didn't know. Honestly, I was at a loss. I used to wonder when and how it might happen, and now it had. Meeting the Steel Shirts head hunter had left a bad taste in my mouth but apart from that, their conditions were very acceptable. More than acceptable even. They had lots of upsides, all of which he'd laid in front of me. True, I was already getting used to my new life in the Citadel but admittedly this place was one of the game's most dangerous locations. Especially for someone like myself. How many times had I wished I could simply log in, do my quota in the mine and log out straight away? Oh, no. There I go again. I just missed my girls so much.

  What was there to think of? The game's most powerful clan had just offered me a job. Wasn't it exactly what I'd been looking for? Why did I have a bad feeling about it, then?

  Never mind. Time to grab some fresh air. Tanor could say all he wanted but I fully intended to see my plan through. Whether it would tank or succeed, only the bank could tell.

  The Citadel streets bustled relentlessly as usual. The weather seemed to have picked up. No, don't get me wrong, it was drizzly as usual but, as Citadel old-timers would say, "This is nothing like yesterday's downpour".

  On Tronus' suggestion, I made my entire achievement list private — both the good and the "undesirable" properties. Once I'd done that, NPC passersby stopped paying any attention to me altogether.

  Amazing what a difference my little medals used to make. The change in the NPCs' behavior was tangible. Before, they were all smiles, winks and cheers. Now they were stone cold with me. That's the power of habit for you. Before, I used to take it all for granted, and now...

  My memory promptly offered a few snippets of past days. A black-bearded dwarf player, watching thoughtfully as I chatted with an old lady NPC baker. A female archer player, staring in surprise at NPC guards giving me friendly slaps on the back.

  Similar moments were legion, only I'd long stopped paying attention to them. Now that it was gone, I was beginning to understand why I never considered the Citadel as gloomy as others pictured it. That's human nature for you. To appreciate something, we need to lose it first.

  I decided to give it a check. There was a greengrocer's within walking distance, just opposite Tronus' tower, where I used to buy the occasional fruit and veg to restore my Energy down the mine. Stephen, its owner, and myself had often chatted about things like the weather and the latest Citadel news. Not that what he said ever had any informational value. But for me conversations like those were like a breath of fresh air.

  Interestingly, you didn't often have these kinds of relaxed chats with other players. Gamers had a very limited conversation spectrum: they mainly discussed loot, buying and selling, locating certain items, that sort of thing. Now I could better understand Weigner who liked to shoot the breeze. Such hunger for company was typical of players in extended immersion.

  When I was only a few paces away from the greengrocer's display of fruit and veg, I heard a short whistle coming from my right. I turned to the sound. A squat figure hovered in the dark narrow lane. Had it not been for my Ennan eyesight, I'd never have noticed.

  The stranger motioned with his hand, inviting me to approach.

  How strange. I cast a look around, just in case. A dozen feet to my left, two guards were busy discussing something. To my right, a group of three NPC builders were having a smoke break on a bench.

  I cast another glance into the darkness. The squat stranger gestured to me again. Interesting. I might venture a little closer and find out. Doubtful that anything bad would happen: only an idiot would attack a Grinder in the heart of the Citadel. This was one of the unwritten rules.

  I took a few steps toward the edge of light and darkness. The stranger kept motioning. I thought he'd even brought a finger to his lips, signaling for me to keep quiet.

  How weird. What kind of spy game was this?

  Judging by his silhouette, he was either a Dwand or a puny dwarf. No: a Dwand, rather.

  "I'm not coming any closer," I said firmly. "If you need me, I'll be waiting for you here."

  The stranger didn't say anything. He didn't even move. Instead, my chat window blinked.

  A character called Max would like to start a private conversation with you.

  Accept: Yes/No

  I pressed Yes. What would he want with me? Let's see.

  With every word I read, I could feel the corners of my lips stretch into a smile.

  Hi Olgerd,

  This is Max. Do you remember me? Dad's sending his regards. He wants to see you. He says it's urgent.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Algar was a one-horse town like any other. Had it not been for the Gothic spire of the town hall, the portal station, the bank and a few more institutions securing its status as a town, it would have easily passed for a village.

  Players were few, mainly Seasoned Grinders. I could see a couple of Warriors too, most of them below level 30. Basically, this place had still a lot to grow. To a newb player, Leuton might seem like a megalopolis in comparison.

  Despite their relaxed lifestyle, the inhabitants of Algar were no slow coaches. Which made sense. Time waits for no man, whoever said that. This game dictated its own harsh rules.

  Closer to the night the streets might actually grow busier. A lot of players were out smoking forest mobs. Herbalists crowded all the nearest meadows. And my colleagues, fellow Diggers, spent all their waking hours underground. No point staying behind the town walls when you had work to do.

  It felt g
ood. I wasn't used to this kind of weather anymore. It was warm, the evening sun casting its gentle rays on the town. What a nice location. Especially after that humid Drammen.

  This was the place Rrhorgus had suggested as our RV point.

  At first I'd found Max's behavior quite funny. Still, a lot had become clear when he began to speak. I'd meant to question him at length but he only said that his father would explain everything himself, adding that he personally didn't know much. He was only a messenger, sent to me with a brief note,

  Hi Olgerd,

  If you're reading this letter it means Max has found you. Add me back to your friend list please, this way we can stay in touch. I need to see you. It's important. I can't come to you. They might smell a rat. It's best we meet on neutral ground. There's this God-forsaken town: Algar's the name. Let's meet up and talk.

  RSVP

  I read the letter, unblocked my friend list and contacted him. We decided not to drag it out and set up an RV for the same evening. I had a hunch that the mysterious "they" mentioned in his letter might have something to do with the arrival of the Steel Shirts head hunter. Before leaving, Max instructed me to be on my guard and keep my eyes peeled at portal stations to make sure no one noticed where I was porting to. All this had only strengthened my suspicions.

  I hadn't risked using portals, especially seeing as today's caravan to Drammen had left the Citadel already an hour ago. If the truth were known, I hadn't considered using portals to begin with.

  My satnav had had no problems locating Algar — and Boris had taken me there with an equal ease. We'd landed in one of the numerous forest clearings. Less than ten minutes later I was standing by the front door of the White Goose Inn where we'd agreed to meet up.

  "Had I known you'd be such eye candy for all the Grinders in the area, I'd have invited you somewhere else."

  I grinned, turning to the familiar voice. "Rrhorgus!"

  "Hi there, man. So good to see you."

  We hugged; then he eased me away, holding my shoulders. "You've changed. Are you posing as a dwarf these days? That's clever."