The Time Master

by Dmitry Bilik

  The Enchanter used some crystals to help him. As I understood it, they were some sort of mana batteries. He would take one and fumble with it, then activate it, and bang! — the weapon or the piece of armor in need of charging would flash momentarily while the crystal opposite it would go out.

  Finally, it was Harph’s turn. He and the enchanter spent quite some time examining some silver amulet with a blue stone in it. At first, Harph appeared to be asking his advice; then he started pointing at the item, arguing under his breath. In the end, they seemed to have come to an agreement — either about the price or about the method of charging the item.

  Finally, the enchanter activated the amulet. Harph measured out some dust, shook the enchanter’s hand and headed for the exit.

  As he walked through the hallway, I approached him. “Hi.”

  “Eh, hi,” he zoned out for a couple of seconds, apparently trying to remember me, then his eyes came back into focus. “Ah, it’s you.”

  “It’s me,” I said, unwilling to deny the obvious. “I have a business proposition for you.”

  “That’s a bit rich coming from a nutcase,” he said with a dismissive little smile.

  That was strange. When we’d first met, he’d appeared rather normal. And now he seemed quite aloof. Why on earth would he call me a nutcase?

  A cold shiver ran down my spine as I realized. My damned reputation! Hadn’t the message said in clear digital language that it was supposed to have a subconscious effect on other people? So naturally, this mentalist would treat me as a Nutcase. Bad timing, really bad.

  “We need a wizard to escort a group to Purgator.”

  “Have you ever heard of...”

  “Yes, yes, I know. It’s Red Moon,” I hurried to interrupt him. “But it’s a sure deal. The group is ready. All we need is you.”

  “Okay, let’s presume — mind you I said presume — that I accept,” he gave us a wary look. “What’s in it for me?”

  This was the most delicate part. As my fellow compatriot, Traug had shared with me a few secrets pertinent to such raids. There were two ways you could pay: by either offering a percentage or a fixed rate. The first option implied that the raid leader decided on each team member’s cut of the loot. Naturally, his own share would be slightly higher. The second option guaranteed a Player either a particular item or a set amount of dust. In which case, he lost any claim to whatever else the raid might procure.

  “We all get the same. My own cut won’t be any higher than other group members’. Alternatively, it’s a one-off fee of...”

  I paused, thinking. This was a tricky one. I could neither offer too much nor too little.

  “Half a kilo of dust,” I finally said.

  “Well... What’s the length of the contract?”

  “A day, two days at the most.”

  I’d already thought about that. This way we could come back just in time for Hunter’s return. Especially seeing as the Darkest One was now in Cesspit — while we would safely escape into Purgator.

  “Who’s on the team?”

  “Traug the Korl as a warrior, Jan as a mage and Litius as a scout.”

  “That crazy boozer Traug is the only one I know out of the whole bunch. You know what I think? You’ve got yourself a shitty team, dude.”

  He shook his head and turned, apparently about to wander off. Which was why I blurted the first thing that came to my head,

  “And Artist_Chick!”

  He stopped and turned back to me. A look of surprise spread over his face. “Arts? Is she with you?”

  ‘We’ve already been to Purgator together not so long ago. That’s when we discovered our... our objective.”

  It looked like mentioning her had turned our conversation around.

  “Well, if she’s with you...” he paused. “I need more information.”

  “All the others are already waiting for us in the Syndicate. We could talk right there.”

  “All right. Let’s go.”

  While we trotted over to the mission building, I was racking my brain thinking how to approach Arts. I hadn’t spoken to her about this. I actually hadn’t even planned to ask her along. But I couldn't retract my words very easily now. I could only hope that she’d be inside and that I’d somehow manage to talk her into it.

  As soon as I entered the building, I heaved a sigh of relief. Arts was sitting at her usual place all alone, ignoring the surrounding bustle. What’s more, she was lolling over one chair, leaning against the wall, with her feet up on another.

  She was busy drawing as usual. Despite the shortage of chairs, no one dared to come over and claim one of hers.

  “Wait here,” I said to Harph, pointing at the table occupied by my team.

  Traug, bless him, had managed to procure a table — the fact that it was located by the entrance didn’t matter seeing as a lot of other people couldn’t get a seat at all. He'd even managed to cling on to a spare chair.

  With a nod to Traug, Harph took a seat at the table while I headed toward Arts, trying to keep my cool.

  “Hi,” I said.

  I pulled the chair from under her feet and sat down. She stared at me, slightly taken aback by my brazenness. But what could I do? I had to make it look as if we were old friends, at least from a distance.

  “I have a proposal for you. A real serious one.”

  “Yeah right.”

  “I’ve put a group together, just like you said I should. A scout, a healer, and two warriors. Over there,” I pointed at the table by the entrance.

  “Congrats,” she replied dryly and returned to her sketchbook.

  “You coming with us?”

  “No, I’m not,” she snapped without taking her eyes from the sheet.

  “Didn’t you say there was a whole lot of money to be had there?”

  “First you need to kill the Alpha.”

  “I have an idea.”

  I hurried to tell her about it, casting occasional glances at Harph who was sitting sour-faced staring in our direction.

  “Okay, let’s presume it works out,” she lifted her head from her sketchbook. “What’s it got to do with me?”

  “You’re an experienced player. You’ve been to Purgator. You know what to expect from it.”

  Also, Harph wouldn’t go without you. And he’s the one I probably need the most.

  “What’s it worth?”

  “Everybody gets the same cut. Me included.”

  “Throw in five percent of your own cut, and I’m in.”

  What a cheek! It would be great to cut her down to size. The problem was, Harph would then do an about-turn too. Which meant that my so-called raid might be over before it even started.

  So I clenched my teeth and nodded. “Fine.”

  Arts cheered up. The sketchbook disappeared from her hands.

  “What’s going on over there?” she nodded at my group sitting at the table. “Are you guys already working it out?”

  “Exactly. Let’s go and join them.”

  We picked up our chairs and headed over to the other table. It was a bit cramped but in the end, we all had enough elbow room.

  Harph switched an uncertain gaze between me and the girl. Finally, he couldn’t keep it up any longer. “You really coming with us?”

  Arts nodded. “Sure.”

  “Oh well. In that case, it might just work out. Let’s get on with the contract, then. I’ll take my fee in dust. 200 grams now and another 300 on completion.”

  “Agreed,” I replied calmly as if I wasn’t the one with only 38 grams of dust in my bag.

  Your Persuasion skill has increased to level 5.

  You’ve taken the first step toward acquiring the Leadership ability.

  “Now tell us. What’s the raid’s objective?”

  I invested all of my gift of gab into my spiel, paying special attention to the fact that we’d already managed to wound the Alpha. Then I explained how exactly I intended to get him killed.

  At first, Har
ph listened warily, but closer to the end of the conversation, he gave a few reserved nods. “All right. I’m in.”

  “In that case, you’ll get your fee tomorrow at the Gatekeeper’s. We’ll port out tomorrow at dawn.”

  “Local time or Purgator’s?”

  Shit. I hadn’t even thought about that.

  “Purgator’s,” Arts replied.

  “W-w-which is n-n-nine thirty-s-six l-l-local time,” Litius made a prompt calculation.

  “In that case, see you at nine-thirty by the Gatekeeper’s,” I said, trying to play the boss.

  Surprisingly, nobody raised any objections. Neither Harph nor Arts played too hard to get, apparently unwilling to show their superiority. Traug was the only one who actually spoke up,

  “You could stay at my place if you wish,” he said to the girl. “I live close by.”

  “In your dreams,” she replied. Only then did she turn to me. “See you tomorrow.”

  Harph didn’t hang around, either. With a nod, he headed toward the exit.

  The only thing that worried me now was that the two of them — Arts and the mentalist — might rip me off. But I didn’t get the chance to dwell on it as some semblance of a chart appeared in my interface.

  Hire Agreement

  Jan: 20% of the proceeds

  Traug: 20% of the proceeds

  Litius: 20% of the proceeds

  Arts: 25% of the proceeds

  Harph: 500 grams (200 grams advance pending)

  This looked almost as cool as a public tender offer. The bold print meant that it was almost as good as done. As soon as I paid Harph his advance, his line would turn bold too. But that would require some more brainwork.

  “Wait up, you guys. I’ve got a question for you.”

  Jan grinned. “A million-dollar one?”

  “Yeah, sort of. Have any of you got any spare cash? I’ll pay you back as soon as we’re home. I’ll swear an oath on the Game, if you wish.”

  The thing was, according to Litius, seeing as I was the group leader (albeit stripped of all the bonuses), who do you think was supposed to pay for all the porting? That’s right: the poor little bastard Sergei. Now let’s do a bit of math. Six people traveling to the Valley of Silence, that’s 204 grams. The return trip from Virhort, another 192. That’s not counting Harph’s 200 grams.

  Jesus.

  “Not a problem,” Traug reached into his inventory, produced a fistful of dust and poured it onto the table. “No, wait. I still need a bit for tonight.”

  With these words, he withdrew a small pinch of dust — 63 grams, by my estimation. He brushed it off the table into his hand, then threw it back into his bag.

  “Everything’s fine for a good man,” Jan said, lobbing his purse onto the table. “Take it all.”

  Oh wow. Another 207 grams. Now we were cooking!

  It was Litius’ turn. He cast a wary glance around, then began producing tiny bags from under his clothes, one after another, hiding them under the table.

  “Here,” he handed me five fat purses under the table. “I h-h-hope th-that s-s-s-suffices.”

  The moment I took them from him, I knew it was half a kilo. I dumped them into the bag with the rest of them. How interesting. It definitely didn’t look as if he’d given me his last dregs. I’d love to know what this undercover feline millionaire was up to.

  “Thanks a bunch, guys.”

  “Think nothing of it,” Traug waved me away as his gaze scanned the Syndicate hall, alighting on a woman by the bar. He got to his feet, smacking his lips. “All right, see you tomorrow, then. I have some unfinished business here.”

  “I need to dash too,” I said, shaking hands with Jan and Litius. “See you tomorrow.”

  I rushed outside. Business is all well and good, but it was getting close to six o’clock and I too had some unfinished things to see to. Not things even, but rather something very pleasant to look forward to.

  I stopped under the arch and checked if there was anyone following me. Someone could have seen me accepting all that dosh, you know. About a dozen Players brushed past, some entering the Community, others leaving it, but I didn’t see anyone tailing me.

  Having said that... why would I even think of that? Only a complete idiot would contemplate attacking a fellow Seeker at this point. The place was absolutely teeming with guards. They’d just grab you and beat the shit out of you.

  I reached the bus stop and glanced at my phone. I finally had signal and with it, several messages from Julia, all of them saying that she might be a bit late. I replied, reassuring her it wasn’t a problem.

  It was actually even better this way. I could just hang about on the bridge for a while. It was a bit of a shame we hadn’t agreed to meet closer to my place.

  Oh well. No good crying over spilt milk. I’d thought it might be easier for me to get back home afterwards. Never mind.

  I got onto the arriving bus — or rather, I jostled my way in, because it was absolutely packed. And off we rattled.

  With every new stop, the bus was getting fuller until finally we were packed in like sardines in a can. I stood by the handrail, trying to shrink myself into a plastic separator by the exit. It was a good job I had the dust safely stashed away in my inventory: you could easily be relieved of all your possessions in a crowd like this.

  Just as I was thinking about this, a dowdy middle-aged woman screamed next to me,

  “My purse! My purse is gone!”

  I didn’t get the chance to get a good look at her. What I did see was a young guy who made a dash for the opening doors. Either he had some quirky metrosexual tastes or the bright-red leather purse studded with rhinestones that he was clutching wasn’t his own.

  No, dude, I’m not going to chase after you. I have better tricks up my sleeve.

  [ ∞ ]

  My hand closed around the back of his hood before the woman had even had the chance to start screaming. The guy tried to jerk himself free — but only ended up attracting more attention to himself.

  “My purse!”

  What happened next was even more interesting. The crowd which only a moment ago had been clambering over each other had now parted. The dowdy woman with the sergeant major’s voice elbowed her way toward the hapless thief. She was wearing a pair of glasses, a coat and a red beret. Furious, she snatched her purse from the guy’s hand and started beating him over the head with her handbag. As I was still holding him by the hood, it took me a while to realize I was now a witness to an assault.

  “We need to call the police,” someone in the crowd suggested.

  This prudent suggestion had a sobering effect on the lady who stopped using her handbag as a hammer. I let go of his hood, and the thief took off through the doors. After a few seconds, the doors shut and we drove on.

  “Thanks,” the woman nodded, then turned away to face the handrail.

  You’ve helped a Commoner who is neutral to you.

  +20 karma points. Current level: +60. You gravitate to the Light Side.

  Gradually, the crowd knitted back together, once again filling all the available space. Some were muttering something about “these youngsters” while others started fumbling with their smartphones as if nothing had happened. The woman in the beret alighted at the next stop; a couple of stops later, everybody seemed to have forgotten the whole issue.

  I spent the rest of my journey without any further incident. I glanced at my watch: I’d actually arrived a little bit early. Considering what she’d said about being late, I still had time to go and buy the tickets. I joined the line to the box office.

  “Hi, how’s your day?” the girl behind the till said, her face a clear indication that hers wasn’t going so well.

  “Great, thanks. Which film is coming up where you have a completely unsold back row?”

  She gaze momentarily went blank. “What, the whole row? How many tickets do you need?”

  “All of them,” I said.

  Before, I never would have done anythi
ng like this. This was the most ridiculous of all splurges. But either the heap of dust was burning a hole in my pocket, or the thought of the loot I would have gotten off the Queen. Especially because I had plenty of time-rewind charges now.