I went up to the bow of the bireme and called the pirate crew to attention.
"So then, he-men, let's show these water demons where to stick their raging wind and bubbling sea! They must be taught that we are above tempests, and that storms are nothing but joy to pirates like us! All sailors on the upper deck, lash yourselves together and tie the ends down! Lift anchor! To oars, crab meat!"
Just then, VIXEN came down onto the deck next to me and folded her wings up compact. The level-20 Royal Forest Wyvern was all wet from the rain, but the flying snake wasn't at all thrown off by the bad weather. She lowered her long, flexible neck, revealed her toothy maw and set before me on the wet boards, a live level-12 squid. Yet another piece for my vampiric collection! I embraced my beauty!
"Who's my little hunter? What a little smarty-pants!" Then I turned to the sailors and shouted at full volume: "A good sign! Despite the storm, success and loot await us! Oars in the water! Forward!!!"
* * *
I cautiously lowered my sister's wheelchair onto the electrobus platform and, after getting my bearings on the palmtop screen, rolled down the quiet street bathed in summer sun. There was still plenty of time until Val's appointment with the Department of Human Services, so we were in no hurry and simply enjoyed the quite rare opportunity to spend some quality time together outdoors. Once upon a time, we had taken walks in the park quite often but, after selling our old apartment and moving, the walks stopped. I realized with horror that I had no memory of the last time Valeria and I had taken a walk like this. A year and a half ago, probably. Maybe even earlier.
Both of us were in an excellent mood, in no small part thanks to the cloudless day and blue sky. Unusually, the smog that hovered over the metropolis had been purged today by a morning rain.
"This is just great!" my sister said, bending down and trying to reach the fluffy white head of a dandelion growing up through a crack in the asphalt.
I stopped on Val's request and helped her pick the flower. The girl smiled happily and said with a smile:
"Timothy, do you remember when we used to gather dandelions in the park, making wishes and blowing with all our might? And if the fluff flew away, we used to say our wish would come true."
"I remember, of course, Val. What are you gonna wish for?"
"Hey, Timothy, that's not fair! We didn't used to play like that! We would wish quietly to ourselves, then blow. And if it came true, only then would you say your wish. Otherwise, someone knows your secret wish, but it still hasn’t come true. That just sucks."
I laughed happily and suggested that my little sister do just as we'd done before. Val considered it briefly, then with a very serious look, told me she was ready. We both blew together, and all that was left of the dandelion was its little white head and green stem.
"Cool! It worked! What did you wish for, Timothy?"
I answered my sister honestly that I had asked to survive to the end of the hunt and keep my VIXEN — I'd already grown far too attached to the unique winged mount to lose it or sell it to anyone. For some reason, Val got upset and puffed out her cheeks.
"You’re an idiot, Tim... Even though you're twice my age, you're just such a naive dreamer. Remember how, a week ago, we didn't even have money for food or rent? We still don't have our own roof over our heads and are living in a rented apartment just out of the goodness of your girlfriend's heart. If she has a change of opinion, we'll find ourselves out on the street. And last night, you gave all your bank notes to a Naiad Trader you've barely known a week! The value of that was over ten thousand in real money! And what's more, without any signatures or contract, just taking him at his word! Now you’ve taken it even further and are wishing to say no to a million credits you haven’t even earned yet!"
I'll admit, my little sister managed to make me feel ashamed, and I lowered my head. I already felt pretty bad about just giving practically all the bank notes I earned from the paid wyvern-hatching clip to the new owner of the Tipsy Gannet to grow his business. But the Naiad Trader needed funds, and quite significant ones at that, to buy goods and set up a trade route. Max Sochnier was preparing to personally captain the Tipsy Gannet through all the points of the route, and establish firm relationships with traders in those places before entrusting such a weighty mission to a hired NPC captain. So, the naiad would be leaving our group for some time. And though I fully trusted Max, neither I nor my sister had one-hundred-percent certainty we'd get the money back.
"Val, you're right, as usual," I agreed in conciliation. "What did you wish for?"
Valeria chuckled sadly with the very corners of her lips, but still admitted:
"Not so long ago, in a burst of enthusiasm, you promised to buy me a real virtual reality capsule. I'll admit, I have very little faith in that, given how you hand out bank notes like candy, and refuse future money in advance. But you have no idea, Tim, how unbearably I want to try Boundless Realm with the full spectrum of sensations! Even if it’s not in my own virtual reality capsule, there are probably some kind of gaming clubs where you can pay to rent one and play with full immersion!"
"There probably are," I agreed, promising to find such options for my sister.
"But..." the girl giggled, "I'm afraid to even try. For example, our escape from the bay this morning. I was nearly pissing myself in fear when White Shark was tossing and turning between the stones. I was especially impressed by those two jagged cliffs at the exit. A real Scylla and Charybdis! After our bireme got past them, I took off my virtual reality helmet and realized that all the hair on my head was soaked with sweat! I do not understand how your heart didn't just stop in panic, in the virtual reality capsule, seeing all that with the full spectrum of sensations!"
That was true... The feeling of being on the bireme in the storm was one of the most vibrant, and at the same time, ghastly things I'd experienced in all my time in Boundless Realm. The realism of it all was off the charts. Cold waves rolled over the deck, knocking me off my feet and washing away everything in their path. We almost immediately lost one badly lashed-down dinghy. Another ripped off not long after, but not all the way — the boat was still tied with a rope on its fore, causing it to flail about on the upper deck for some time, crippling sailors, before it broke in two with a strike against the mast. I then hurriedly told the sailors to get down below deck, other than two observers and the helmsman, as being on the upper deck had become a deadly endeavor.
The gusty wind was causing our ship to lurch horribly. At times, it seemed that the top of the mast was about to touch the surface of the sea. If it weren't for the well-tied-down freight and significant ballast in the hold, we certainly would have tipped over. Nevertheless, the water was coursing fairly quickly through the drainage holes overboard. The situation on the oar-deck was especially dire. We lost three of the orc sailors, who inhaled far too much sea water sitting at their oars. Nevertheless, we managed to pass the storm, after which the White Shark raised sail and dashed like an arrow across the sea, driven on by the squall.
When the quest "It's not the Gods That Fire the Pots," was considered complete, a wave of bright illumination rolled over the ship — nearly all the sailors aboard leveled up. I got enough experience to reach level thirty-one, and Valerianna Quickfoot reached thirty-two. After distributing my character's stat points as usual — into Charisma and Agility, I handed control to the first mate, then exited Boundless Realm together with the wood nymph, having promised the crew I'd return by evening.
The video of the howling tempest and White Shark being hurled by huge breakers, contained lots of very high quality material, which simply had to be shown to my viewers. But I only planned to upload the footage tomorrow — I had no reason to show my pursuers that I'd changed ships. If the cleverest wyvern hunters already knew about Tipsy Gannet, no one at all (or so I hoped) knew about the pirate bireme.
As I pushed my sister’s wheelchair down the street, Val suddenly started laughing. My sister informed me with a smile that it was her chara
cter that had defeated the island elder in the wine-drinking contest. The Goblin Herbalist and Naiad Trader had gotten drunk too fast, and started behaving rowdy and dropped out of the race. Successfully completing the optional condition of the Demonologist's Respect quest was entirely the wood nymph's doing. She told me she periodically got messages about penalties to Agility or Intelligence, but they had no effect on the wood nymph's ability to behave herself. My sister supposed that she simply didn't know what being drunk was like, so the computer system was unable to put her into such a state. In the end, the master of the island had admitted his defeat last night, and hobbled off after my big-eared goblin up to the very summit of the hill to the respawn stone.
"Ugh... I still can't get away from thoughts about the virtual reality capsule. I read that some gamers get so into the game world that their consciousness starts to get digitized and they then live in the game separately from their body... By the way, Timothy, we're here. There’s the building."
Conversing actively, we really hadn't noticed the dingy imperceptible building. Over its doors, there was a washed-out banner reading: "Department of Human Services." Other banners hung next to it informed us that the building was shared by a medical clinic and a center of gerontology.
I got slightly on edge — this place was just half a kilometer from the criminal neighborhood Valeria and I had lived in not so terribly long ago. There was a certain risk we'd meet an old neighbor or acquaintance — many of the residents of the ill-fated neighborhood were on the Human Services rolls, or visited the medical clinic for various things.
There was still a whole forty minutes until Valeria's appointment, but we didn't stay on the street getting sun, just went into the building. A large freight elevator brought us up to the third floor. In the hallways, it was deserted, and we didn't see any line into the office we were headed to. We knocked and entered.
Inside the small office, there were two fairly plump ladies of "a bit over forty" sitting and drinking tea with chocolate candies. For some reason, the simplest question of all — could they see us now, given that there was no line — caused the pair of clucking hens to fall into a prolonged stupor. For some time, they exchanged glances and even tried to claim it was their lunch break. But I pointed to the sign on the door showing operating hours, which clearly stated that lunch break had ended fifty minutes ago. One of the two ladies gave an upset frown and, finishing her tea in one big gulp, tossed on a white hospital gown over her blue business suit and walked out into the hallway. The lady who remained agreed to see my sister, turned on the monitor on her table and handed a form to Valeria.
"Young man, you can wait outside," she suggested in a tone that wouldn't bear objection.
"Timothy, you go, I'll manage on my own," Val assured me.
I left the office and paced the hallway looking bored. On the stairs next to the elevator, the lady who we'd stopped from gossiping with her friend was standing and smoking. She turned away from me demonstratively and unhappily. I kept walking. Just then, I got a call on my cell phone. On the screen, the name Max Sochnier was shown.
"Greetings, Timothy. I have a great video for you. I sent it to your mailbox to download. I was up on the seaside cliffs filming two ships of players pass not far from the entrance into the island's bay. A drekar belonging to the Night Predators rammed through the Power-Brokers' galley. You'll never believe it! Grappling hooks, clouds of gunsmoke, lightning bolts, magic shields, wisps of toxic smoke... It looked amazing! The Power-Brokers won and even captured the attacking ship, though they did sustain quite heavy losses. After that, a bireme with one hundred Goons tried to take the drekar, which was barely floating, with the rest of the Power-Brokers still on board. But they didn't consider the strong wind, and scuttled on the reefs, sinking in half a minute together with the whole crew!"
I couldn't resist laughing, imagining the spectacle. I'd have to download the video and tell them in my daily clip today about the Goons' latest act of idiocy.
"Max, overall, how's the situation on the Island of the Wanton Widow?"
"The storm isn't stopping, and seems to even be getting stronger. There are five player-controlled ships next to the island but, in this weather, they can't get near the shore, nor enter the bay. What's more, the water is just lousy with marine predators. Any player or NPC who falls overboard gets devoured by them instantly. The players saw me on the shore and even tried to get in touch with me, but I haven't yet answered. I say let them think you're also somewhere nearby, and waste time near the island. When they realize their error, you'll already be far away! It'd be great if the storm stayed like this until dark, then you'll have the whole night ahead of you."
"Thank you for the help, Max!"
"Thank you. With your money, I bought so much cheap fish from the Island of the Wanton Widow that my galley is nearly sagging down to the oarsman's benches in the water. As long as the players don't sink Tipsy Gannet in rage over the fact that they wasted so much time searching for you in vain... You really shouldn't have given me that teleportation scroll — you need it more!"
I could barely hold back a surprised gasp — had I seriously given up such a valuable rescue scroll to the Naiad Trader?! Although, I remembered that I really hadn't seen the scroll in my inventory this morning.
"Alright, Timothy, I'm going back into the game. If something interesting happens, I'll be sure to send you the footage!"
My cell phone stashed back in my pocket, I walked slowly down the hallway, thinking over our current situation. My attention was caught by a muted woman's voice whispering animatedly from the stairwell. If the woman had been speaking in a normal tone, I may have not noticed, and just walked by, but she was clearly trying to speak quietly so no one would overhear.
"That's right. They're already here, nearly a whole hour early. Anette is trying to delay them. We'll send her to medical checkup or something, if need be. But don't you be late, otherwise they'll leave and you'll never find them! In how long? Yeah, they'll definitely be here for five minutes, so you'll make it. Alright, that's all. Bye-bye!"
From what I overheard, I had easily enough to realize that she was talking about Valeria and I. These base animals, taking advantage of their position in government, had found my sister's phone number in the human services database and contrived a reason to lure her here so they could give me and Val up to their co-conspirators. We're in a trap! And we only have five minutes to get out!
More Than Just a Game
UNTIL TODAY, I never suspected that I would be capable of striking a woman — I figured I was too well-raised to do something like that. But all my culture, education and politeness, which I considered natural qualities of my character, left me in one moment. I felt exasperated and stripped bare. If anyone wanted to bring harm to my sister or I at that moment, I would tear their throat open with my teeth. Punching the fat lady in the ear was a pointed and savory feeling. The woman flew to the side and hit her head on the wall with a dull thud. Her cell phone fell out of her unclenched fingers, and was crushed under her high heel with a crunch. Next to the fragments of phone on the floor, there was a large key ring that fell out of her hospital gown pocket, including an electric key fob to a car. I saw it with the corner of my mind, but I didn't take her property, just hurried to my sister.
"Young man, I told you to wait in the hallway!" the social worker met my entrance reproachfully.
But I wasn't listening to her now, and entered decisively, closing the door behind me. Valeria was pensively and unhurriedly filling out the fifteen-twenty page-long form, and the social worker was entering some information into the computer database. It was all typical and natural. There was nothing to speak to the fact that something criminal was afoot. A belated thought flashed in my head that I might have misunderstood the overheard conversation on the stairs. But my gaze caught on a little placard on the woman's suit: "Anette Crisby, social worker." A phrase I'd just heard instantly flashed by in my memory: "Anette is trying to delay them." Unf
ortunately, I was not wrong!
Anette didn't even manage to realize what was going on, much less grow afraid before I stepped forward and twisted her arm behind her back, pushing her face into the table.
"Val, give me that roll of scotch tape!" I said, pointing to a dispenser nearby.
Valeria's composure in extreme situations had always impressed me. I even admired her for it. And now as well, my sister didn't ask any questions and, as if she did this every day, helped me in a business-like manner to tie the fat lady to the chair.
"Who did you and your co-conspirator give us up to?" I asked, looming threateningly over the lady.
"No one..." she first tried to just lie, but after getting a hard slap and seeing the decisiveness on my face, immediately lost her nerve and admitted to it. "It wasn't my idea, I swear! I was threatened by gangsters from the Grave Worms! They said you borrowed a bunch of coin from them and had run off with the money. But they figured the disabled girl was probably on the human services rolls, so they demanded your new address from me. I didn't know it, but promised to figure it out and called the phone number shown in the girl's personal record to make an appointment."
God damn it! My rage subsided just as quickly as it had rolled in, ceding its place to disgust. This animal, using her government job, was prepared to give us up to a bunch of gangsters. The idiotic story had nothing to do with my flying mount and was just more of the same racketeering scheme that had made my sister and I leave our old neighborhood in the first place.
"And what sort of relationship does that other lady have with the bandits?"
The plump bound lady winced unhappily. She must have preferred not to address that topic. However, she did answer my question honestly:
Stay on the Wing Page 17
