A
Frank Conversation
As
I was undergoing another set of rehab procedures at my neighborhood clinic, a call
came in to my cellphone from an unknown number. After my return from Perimeter Defense, the fact that I was
addicted to drugs and alcohol had become blatantly obvious and, even three
months later, I was still going to the medical center three times a week for a
glucose and vitamin drip to cleanse the liver and blood and ward off other ill
effects. I can't even imagine how many unflattering epithets I mentally flung
at Mr. G. I. on those days, sitting there with a needle in my arm. He had
really managed to put my body through the wringer in the six short months he’d
spent in it! With all the drinking he must have been doing, I imagine he was
just hiccupping constantly.
"Yes?"
I said, pressing the “Accept” button on the cell phone with my free hand.
"Ruslan,
I have a serious proposal for you."
So
much time had passed, but I still could pick that voice out from among a
million others. Miya! I had long been mentally preparing for a conversation
with my former employer, and had even begun actively trying to bump into him in
order to tell that piece of trash exactly what I thought about him, man-to-man.
But I was not ready for a conversation with his close companion, and I slightly
lost my place. I wasn’t able to think up anything smart to say to her, so I just
switched the phone off.
Millions
of thoughts were spinning around in my head. Why was it Miya, and not Mr. G.I.?
Was he so afraid of meeting me that he’d sent his girlfriend out in his place?
It’d been so long... I guess they did need me, in the end.
"You're
right," the Truth Seeker's voice rang out
in my head. "Mr. G.I. will be
waiting for you in the same place as last time, forty minutes from now."
I
was having mixed feelings. On the one hand, I desperately wanted to dive
head-first back into the fantasy world of Perimeter
Defense. What can I say? It was the first place I ever felt I could really
take a proper, deep breath and truly say I'd found my calling. It was there
that I'd first experienced the intoxicating aroma of fame and glory. I had made
history. My fleet's many starships had blotted out stars and caused anyone who
got in our way to quiver in fear. I could have become co-ruler over billions of
insects. I could have become Head of the Orange House. I could have become
anyone I wanted. But, the main thing was that, in Perimeter Defense, I felt that humanity needed me. I was looked on
as the savior of our whole race...
On
the other hand, going back brought at least as many negatives as it did
positives. My last experience had come at too high a price. The money I got in
the first contract had barely been enough to pay all the fees and fines that
Mr. G. I. had left in his wake. My friends had turned away from me, I had
quarreled with relatives, and the girl I had been dating on-and-off for some time
had left me, saying I'd become a degenerate drug addict. What was worse, there
was a kernel of truth in her words. After the contract, I felt that I was in a
body addled by hard drugs and alcoholic binges. It was like I had aged ten
years in those six months. That all made waking up from the magical dream of Perimeter Defense and coming back to the
real world an extremely bitter experience.
"After
what you did to me last time, I don't even know what you could say to make me
want to go back into Perimeter Defense!
You’d just keep ruining my body!"
My
unseen interlocutor kept silent for a few seconds, then said:
"The
Alien Queen, at the head of a fleet
of three thousand ships, has captured Hnelle. Your capital, Unatari, has been
cut off from the Empire and is preparing for a hopeless battle. There is no
chance for victory whatsoever. Everything you worked so painstakingly to create
could be destroyed in one fell swoop, and all those close to you will
die."
I
thought there was no way she could hook me back in, but I was proven wrong.
Miya had articulated everything I had been so severely lacking as of late.
People need me again. They believe I can protect them, and hope for my return.
I felt a thirst for activity boiling up in me after many weeks of extended
apathy.
"This
time, the contract is on my terms!" I declared decisively.
"I
agree," Miya said, for some reason not even asking her master's opinion on
the matter.
"Alright,
I'll be there in ten minutes," I said, tearing the needle from my vein and
heading for the exit.
***
"Hello
there, Ruslan. Just where do you think you're going?" grumbled the young
bouncer standing watch over the restaurant entrance, as he jerked me back by
the shoulder.
I
strained to hold back a string of unprintable words that were just begging to
be let out. It was the same story all over again... Another loose end from the
first contract. I was sure I was seeing this man for the first time; however,
he, beyond all shadow of a doubt, knew me well and thought me a scoundrel. This
unfortunate notoriety I had gained after my contract with Mr. G. I. infuriated
me even more than my drugged-out body. With addiction, there were severe health
consequences to be sure, but it was at least easy to work out how to recover
from, which was not something that could be said of this strange renown.
I often found girls I had never met before
making eyes and smiling at me as if we were very well acquainted. A random
passerby might take one look at my face, grow sullen with rage and, from out of
nowhere, sock me right in the ear. Sometimes, women working in grocery stores
refused to scan my purchases and called security to have me escorted out. And
then, there were the night visitors. I'd had it up to here with them!
Especially in the very first weeks after returning from Perimeter Defense! When my doorbell rang, I never knew what to
expect. It could be a good-time girl who knew her way around my apartment
surprisingly well, assuring me that my membership was paid-up through the end
of the year. It could just as easily be glum criminal types twirling baseball
bats and brass knuckles, demanding that I pay back a debt, which always came
saddled with a run-up interest that was nothing to sneeze at either.
On
my way to the meeting with my employer, I was very intent on reminding him of
every such episode I’d endured and demanding full compensation for the damage
done to my health and reputation. I was also preparing to demand a point be
added to the new contract saying that such incidents were not to be repeated,
or I would refuse to help him a second time. Unfortunately, I would first have
to get into the restaurant to actually see Mr. G. I.
"I'm
meeting someone here. He reserved a table," I replied to the vigilant
doorkeeper in a tranquil tone.
He
let go of my arm, called one of the managers over and whispered something to
him, pointing at me.
"Under
whose name is the table reserved?" the restaurant employee inquired,
opening a notepad and studying the guests on it.
"Georgiy
Innokentievich... uhh... Mesfelle," I guessed, which turned out to have
been wrong. They had no reservation under that name today.
"Like
I said, throw him out by the neck!" the mean old bouncer exclaimed at my
failure, but I made a second attempt.
"Look
for Miya Mesfelle. The table might be under her name."
By
the disappointed look now on the old man’s face, I could tell that my second
guess had been correct.
"But
no funny business this time, Ruslan. Last time you had to pay for a lot of
damage and broken furniture. Next time you won't get off so easy!" the
vigilant bouncer threatened, finally letting me inside.
My
last visit to this establishment was on an early winter’s morning, and the room
had been empty. This time, however, the restaurant was full of people. All the
same, it was no problem to pick Miya out of the crowd. The fashionable young
woman with long red hair in a bright orange, knee-length dress stood out from
the crowd and attracted the eye like a flame in the night. The Truth Seeker was
sitting alone at a table in the very center of the large room. Before her was
some kind of fruit mousse and a glass of orange juice.
"Take
a seat, Ruslan," she said instead of greeting me, pointing me to an empty
chair. "You've come early. Mr. G.I. isn't here yet. You'll have to wait.
For now, order whatever you'd like."
A
waiter came up and handed me a menu, then took my order. At the same time, the
young man was looking at me anxiously, as if afraid that I might bite him.
"You
seem to have quite the reputation here, Ruslan," Miya commented, also
having noticed our waiter’s strange expression.
"And
why do you think that might be?" I quipped, not able to hold back.
"Before the half-year contract in Perimeter
Defense, even my neighbors didn't recognize me. Now, every other person in
the neighborhood wants to punch me in the face..."
"I
suppose that means you should have celebrated the end of your contract with a
bit more modesty," retorted the red-headed she-devil, making a clear
demonstration of the fact that she too could mock.
I
started choking on indignation. Were they seriously going to try to convince me
that I was at fault for all this?! The accusation was so unexpected and
inappropriate that I even lost my place. Miya started smiling, watching my
reaction with curiosity.
"Ruslan,
let's set some boundaries for this conversation so we don't have any
misunderstandings. Your personal life outside of Perimeter Defense is of absolutely no interest to either me or Mr.
G.I. What you may or may not have done, or why this or that neighbor grew to
dislike you is neither here nor there, and has nothing whatsoever to do with
these negotiations..."
Here
the Truth Seeker had to stop her speech, as a waiter approached our table and
placed an unordered bottle of champagne in front of Miya.
"This
is a gift to you from the courageous young lads at that table," the waiter
stated, pointing to a group of men from the Caucasus who were sharing a meal,
one of whom was smiling at Miya and blowing kisses.
I
noticed that she took a quick look around the room, before her gaze stopped on
a group of college girls at the neighboring table. Miya carelessly waved her
left hand in their direction, and the glassy-eyed waiter took the bottle and
set it on the girls' table. After telling them the same story about the feisty
troublemakers, the girls gave a happy giggle. They were very favorably disposed
to the gift.
"Not
the best possible place to negotiate," Miya said in dismay. "But,
it's too late to change. We don't have very much time. So then, Ruslan, I
repeat. We are now discussing only the terms of the future contract, and all
your discontent and grievances you can air to Mr. G.I. in person, as soon as he
arrives."
"What’s
next? Do I have to swim to the other side of the river for a life jacket?"
I laughed from the side of my mouth. "No, Miya, that's not how this works.
After the last contract, I have a huge number of problems, and I am not signing
up for any new adventures until I’ve discussed them with Mr. G.I."
Miya
set her finished glass of juice aside and looked me right in the eyes.
"Ruslan,
for some reason, you seem to be of the opinion that your employer should be
thankful to you. You are gravely mistaken. This was nothing but a business
contract. You did your job, and we paid you. There's nothing left connecting
you with your employer after that. Any problems with your previous contract are
off the table now. And if you think that your success was so impressive that
your employer is burning with desire to give you extra tokens of gratitude, I'm
afraid I have to disenchant you once again. No, that is not the case. In fact,
Mr. G.I. was not at all happy with your term in Perimeter Defense, and was in no way planning to continue his
relationship with you. He only agreed to even meet with you at all as a
personal favor to me, in light of present circumstances. Your supposedly great
achievements and success had nothing to do with it. Nothing at all."
"So
you're saying that what I accomplished was nothing special?!" I exclaimed,
not believing it could be true. "I increased the size of the Sector Eight
Fleet more than anyone was expecting, including Mr. G.I., you, the Head of the
Orange House, and even the Emperor himself. At the beginning of the contract I
had sixteen light ships. Their crews were demoralized, and included a large number
of Great House spies in their ranks. When my contract ended, I handed you the
greatest fleet in the Empire with six battleships, twenty heavy cruisers, and a
terrifying mothership; five hundred ships in total! And that’s to say nothing
of the training given to the veterans of my raid through Alien space. Their
level of competence, effectiveness, and loyalty was incommensurably higher than
that of the unorganized goat herd I was handed at the beginning."
"Ruslan,
let's not distort reality here!" she said, frowning in anger before
motioning for the waiter.
Miya
ordered another juice and returned to the topic at hand:
"And
now, I'll tell you the facts as they look to me and Mr. G. I. When the contract
ended, half of your fleet was made up of Iseyek ships, all of which returned to
Swarm space. So don’t go telling me about any five hundred ships. In the best
case scenario, you left Mr. G.I. with two hundred. And five of them were
battleships, not six. Also, there were just fifteen heavy assault cruisers. To
make matters worse, all the heavy ships, in our new admiral's words, were
equipped in ‘an idiotic way,’ so we had to change all our ships back to normal,
wasting a huge amount of the money you left for us in the process. And the most
shocking thing of all was that you, without even so much as asking your boss,
sold the luxurious yacht Queen of Sin.
The Crown Prince had to buy it back from Roben at a cost of four battleships
and some of your cruisers. These are the real facts, not fairytales like the
ones you're trying to peddle. There's actually just one battleship left in the
fleet, Crown Princess Likanna, and
five heavy assault cruisers. The rest were just temporary and didn't belong to
you anyway."
I
couldn't believe my ears. Bride of Chaos,
Princess Astra, Master of Tesse and Indigo
Beauty, which had just returned to the fleet after a complete overhaul and
modernization I had paid out the nose for in Sector Nine, were all gone. These
idiots had given up four brand new battleships and ten assault cruisers in
exchange for one measly yacht! Miya though, ignored my internal suffering and
continued:
"No
one disputes the fact that the fleet really did grow in strength in the six
months you were in game. We did get a battleship and several heavy cruisers,
after all. The thing is that Mr. G.I. and I are quite sure that these
improvements would have happened with or without you. The Emperor and the
Orange House Head gave you the money for the ships, at the end of the day. I
even suppose that if the real owner of the account had been playing, he could
have avoided the dispute with Duke Paolo and the waste of money that useless
conflict became. In that case, the fleet would have been much stronger and
larger than it is now."
Her
speech was fairly convincing. I suspect that she was making active use of
hypnosis to get me to believe in her words. For a few seconds, I even almost
believed that I was just some untalented schmo who had messed everything up.
And, if I wasn't totally convinced of the opposite from the beginning, it might
have even worked. I gave my head a shake to dispel the illusion.
"If
you're telling me that some yacht was more important to Mr. G.I. than four
battleships, fully modernized and equipped as lavishly as possible, then it's
impossible to imagine the fleet getting stronger all on its own in six months.
Your companion would simply have pissed the money to the wind as he normally
does. Those four battleships and ten heavy cruisers were worth at least two
billion credits without the trained crews that came with them... So then, he
traded all these riches for a yacht worth three million, if I'm being
charitable?"
"That's
not for you to judge, Ruslan! This is an issue of principle: Queen of Sin was a gift Crown Prince
Georg gave to me. Or, to be more accurate, to us both. It was our flying
palace. We spent some fifteen years living in it together! In all those years,
Georg accumulated many decorations for our home, gathering all kinds of
rarities and masterpieces. It became his favorite hobby. There was so much
effort, time and hundreds of millions of credits put into Queen of Sin that no combat starship could come close to its value,
not to speak of its comfort level. There were at least seven hundred million
credits on the yacht just in sculptures by the great Veron ton Gep! Beyond
that, there is also my nearly complete collection of the numbered Sivalla
Emeralds, which were trophies from the great war with the Swarm. Those are
simply priceless! And you sold all that luxury to Roben for a measly billion!
Your brother had you wrapped around his finger, and you didn't even know
it!"
My
food arrived, and Miya had to take another break. The redheaded beauty took a
look at the dishes brought to me and said in surprise:
"What
is this, Ruslan? Are you trying to lose weight? Salad, mineral water... Where's
the meat and side dish, Where’s the grilled fish, and, well, booze? Last time,
you did not limit yourself.”
"Last
time, I had a young, healthy body. But, after Mr. G.I. had a run with it, I was
left with a body that hadn’t spent a second dry in six months, judging by the
number of empty vodka bottles in my room! My liver is failing, my blood
pressure jumps around like I've got hypertension, and my veins are shot to
hell. Three times every week, I go to a clinic for drug rehab. That was the
price of my first contract with you. That is why I'll be sticking to mineral
water, and nothing stronger."
Miya
closed her eyes for a few seconds, then shook her head, somewhat exhausted:
"Ruslan,
I thought we had agreed on limits to this conversation. I just want you to
understand that your life outside of Perimeter
Defense is of absolutely no interest to Mr. G.I. right now. During the
contract, your body was in a virtual reality capsule. It was well cared for.
So, your words about alcohol abuse and damaged veins are clear fantasies, just
like your attempt to project guilt for a fight with your neighbors onto someone
else. You have no evidence, and there’s no way you could."
I
dug around in my pockets and took out something I'd picked up from home on my
way here: a transparent box with a shiny ball inside. I set it down on the
table in front of her. Miya took the box, turned it around in her hands with
curiosity, and put it back down. I felt that I had her back against a wall of
irrefutable evidence.
"Weird...
I wonder if this is from Mr. G.I.'s personal stash or those packs of crystals
you took from the pirate base on Unatari?"
The
Truth Seeker smiled happily in reply:
"Ruslan.
That isn't crystals. Don't you think I'd know? It's probably a plastic
souvenir. You must have ordered it to remind yourself of Perimeter Defense."
"Hmmm...
Let's say that's true. But tell me then, Miya, how did you get my phone
number?"
"You've
become a really bad guy, Ruslan. So suspicious! I spent some time living in
your apartment last winter, remember? Mr. G.I. told you! I simply saw your
number printed on a bill and called it to save the number in case I needed
it."
"That
could all be, Miya, and I might even have believed you, but I've changed my
number since then. I was sick of receiving threatening phone calls in the
middle of the night. I've had it for less than a week. I've only told it to my
mother and best friend. And I want to note for the future: when you call
someone, make sure you’re actually talking. Don't just send your thoughts right
into a person’s head. It was unsettling when I kept hearing your voice after
the phone turned off..."
"Ruslan,
you're saying some very strange things," she said, pursing her lips,
upset. "Hearing voices in your head, talking on phones that are off...
Have you considered getting looked at by a psychiatrist?"
I
pushed my plate away decisively and stood from the table.
"Alright
then, Miya. It seems I was mistaken. Constructive dialog between us is
impossible. Send my greetings to your boss and, when you do, tell him I never
want to see him again. I swear, if I do, I'll give that low-life a smack in the
face!"
I
turned toward the exit, and made two whole steps before two burly,
athletically-built men, who had been sitting quietly and talking at the
neighboring table until that point, stood up and blocked my path. One of them
put my arm behind my back in a professional maneuver and slammed my face down
on the table in front of Miya.
"Boss-lady
didn't say you could leave!" The brute whispered into my ear.
Everyone
around kept eating, as if nothing was happening. A waiter was carrying a tray
literally two feet from me but, for some reason, none of the many restaurant
visitors were interested in what was happening at our table. It was as if we
weren't really there. Maybe if I scream, I'll get someone's attention.
"It
won't work, Ruslan. They won't be able to hear you," Miya said with a
voice full of inhuman, icy detachment as she watched my futile attempts to get
out of the hold. "Not a very good time for you to remind me of my
abilities as a Truth Seeker. That reminds me of another thing: I promised to
kill you if we ever met in the real world. I do not make such promises lightly.
And, as you're not prepared to work with me..."
I
noted with complete surprise, that the two brutes that had attacked me looked
as alike as two drops of water. Twins? Or...
"Par
to nek Tuki-tuka-de-sa! Pori-la-navi!" (Let me go! Obey your Elder Female!
At once!)
It
was complete instinct, but it turned out to have been the right move. Both of
the meat-heads jumped back from me immediately, bowed down on one knee and
lowered their heads. How useful it turned out to have been, listening in on my
Chameleon bodyguards' conversations. Though I didn't actually know the Ravaash
language, I had managed to memorize ten or twenty sentences.
Proud
of my small triumph, I gave Miya a whimsical salute and set off to leave the
restaurant. Well, tried to at least. After walking a couple steps from the
table, I started noticing a growing resistance. Every step was significantly
harder than the one that came before it. I had enough strength for six steps,
but found I couldn't go even one millimeter further. Alright, I'm not dumb, I
get it. I didn't start banging my head on the wall. I turned to the table and
sat down opposite Miya.
"I guess that puts the score at
one-one," the powerful Truth Seeker cackled raucously. "Alright,
Ruslan. Now we can really have a frank conversation."
***
Miya
was staring at the clock. A look of discontent, and even slight anxiety had
crawled out onto her face.
"For
some reason, your employer is late... That’s odd. Usually, Georgiy is quite
punctual. Alright, we'll try to get on without him. Ruslan, I suggest the
following: I promise to answer any three questions you have with complete
honesty. Then, after the answers, so as not to waste time, we can discuss the
next contract. You tell me your desires point by point, and I will decide
whether it would be possible to fulfill them. If any issues remain, we can wait
for Mr. G.I. and consult him. Agreed?"
I
thought and nodded. This option was perfectly fine by me. Miya then sighed with
obvious relief. It seemed she was not at all sure I was going to agree. The
red-headed beauty relaxed a bit, and an insanely beautiful woman emerged from
behind the mask of this deadly predator. In fact, she was perhaps the most
beautiful woman I had ever seen in my life. Only Astra, with her well defined,
yet frail beauty could rival this dangerous carnivore. I was reminded of a
comparison once made by Florianna: "Astra is a snowflake, and Miya is a
flame." A very astute observation. Miya suddenly began smiling for no
apparent reason. She was probably reading my thoughts.
"It's
unusual to see you without a huge belly. What'd you name the baby girl?" I
asked, putting forth the first of the three questions allotted to me.
Miya
looked at me in surprise, but quickly went back to smiling.
"That
was the last question I was expecting you to ask, Ruslan. Though it is nice to
hear, I won't hide that. Her name is Deia, Crown Princess Deianna royl Georg
ton Mesfelle."
In
that Miya's daughter had become a Crown Princess, it wasn't hard to guess that
my substitute had already divorced Marta. I wonder what his ex-wife demanded in
return for signing the divorce papers? Should I ask Miya about that? Alright, I
shouldn't waste another question on this. I'll figure it out as the game goes
on. All the more so, given that I had a much more interesting question to ask:
"After
leaving Perimeter Defense, I spent a
ton of time trying to find information on the game online. I also tried to find
even one virtual reality capsule for sale that looked like the one I got out
of. It was a wild goose chase. And though I could perhaps understand why a
private game for the elite would want secrecy, why would anyone want to keep
the virtual reality capsules a secret? Doesn't it make sense that the
manufacturers would actually be doing everything in their power to advertise
such a product? I’m getting the impression that this technology simply does not
exist. Can you tell me about it?"
Miya
gave another satisfied smile:
"You've
finally started thinking with your head, not letting your emotions rule you.
Great question, Ruslan. That's how you should have started this conversation,
instead of wallowing in self-pity and complaining about rude neighbors.
Everything you suppose is correct, but you have missed one important part. You
saw a working virtual reality capsule in real life. That was a mass-produced
model too, not some experimental prototype. I've given you enough hints. You
can figure the rest out on your own. Let’s see if you have a working brain in
that head of yours."
Miya
sat back deep in the chair with a glass of juice in her hand, and began
observing my intellectual strain, clearly not planning to help me or give any
more information.
I
tried feverishly to imagine how this could possibly be. Something mass-produced
with nothing written about it? Some kind of strict military secret? Maybe for
working out different scenarios in a virtual world instead of reality? Maybe
for working in locations with high infectious disease rates, or under enemy
fire. Or maybe it was to train soldiers to overcome fear of death. After a
hundred virtual deaths, they wouldn’t be afraid anymore. Or perhaps it was for
selecting the most suitable people for especially unusual missions, like a Mars
landing or first contact with extraterrestrial life forms... Though that all
sounded too outlandish.
"It
is the right answer, though" Miya attested, clearly content. "It's
good to see that you are not as closed-minded as the vast majority of people.
You can think beyond what's common. Yes, it is for working out how to use
future technology that is still under development. The game Perimeter Defense, and the equipment for
it do really exist, though I am not aware of all the goals of this mass-scale
experiment. And I also have no idea where former players go to after they get a
game-over. Information about Perimeter
Defense is not allowed to seep out beyond the laboratory walls. I hope very
much that they are simply given new characters, though I cannot say I am sure
of that. You have only one question left, Ruslan. Ask it, and we can get to
work."
Easy
for her to say... I was still in shock after getting an answer to the last
question. Miya and Georgiy, it seemed, were participants in a mass-scale
many-year experiment for an unknown secretive organization! Well I'll be
damned! My thoughts started to get mixed up. The questions that seemed
important just a minute earlier, now had utterly no purpose. Perimeter Defense is a future technology
development simulator... Well, alright. Though it was hard to believe, it did
explain a lot.
"And
can I bring my own body into the game?" I wondered.
Miya's
eyebrows curved inward in surprise and her lips puckered in dismay.
"A
strange question, Ruslan. You have seriously let me down. You already know the
answer to it. That would be impossible for a whole ton of reasons. How can you
possibly imagine bringing a physical body into a computer game? It would be
impossible to add even a single material object to the virtual world. Just as
it would be impossible to remove anything material from Perimeter Defense. Only thoughts, minds, and knowledge. That thing
there," she said, pointing at the box, "is nothing more than a
Chinese souvenir. It is a plastic pearl. Georgiy saw it at a stand in the mall
and bought it for me, because it really does look like the in-game object. All
the rest are just illusions created by me. Perimeter
Defense is used, among other things, for discovering and training people
with latent psionic abilities. After many years of training, I learned to use
these skills not only in the virtual world, but also outside of it."
Despite
all my skepticism, I couldn't find any inconsistencies in the Truth Seeker's
words. Although... I pointed to the two twins at the neighboring table.
"And
who plays the nonhuman races and the Aliens? Why did they understand when I
spoke Ravaash?"
Miya
shook her head in reproach:
"Ruslan,
that's no fair. You've already asked all three questions. Let's try to stay
within the rules, as we agreed. I answered your three questions. I'm sure
you'll find answers to the rest sooner or later. For now, I need a complete
list of contract terms from you. Here's a pencil and a sheet of paper from my
notebook. I'll give you a couple of minutes. I need to figure out why my
companion is taking so long."
The
red-headed beauty retrieved a miniscule cell phone inlaid with large shiny
crystals, maybe even real gemstones, from her small purse and left the noisy
room into the stairwell. My gaze was involuntarily drawn to the leather purse
she had left behind. There was probably a ton of interesting stuff inside,
maybe even some secret inventions that would cast some light on what was going
on... But I shook my head, chasing off the criminal thoughts, and took the
pencil. So, what do I want?
Miya came back seven minutes later when my
list of demands was already practically finished. The woman stood motionless
for a few seconds, staring vacantly somewhere past me, then forcefully hurled
her phone onto the floor. It broke into a great many pieces, and the precious
stones scattered around the floor. You didn't have to have the wisdom of Solomon
to figure out that she was very upset, and even enraged. I wonder who could
have brought the Truth Seeker to such a state of white-hot fury?
"Mr.
G.I. won't be coming to the meeting," Miya told me, somewhat coming back
to her senses. "It seems that he, at the very last moment, had a change of
heart and said that he doesn't want to meet with you personally because he
suspects you might not be very happy to see him. What an egotistical
narcissist!"
I
could have been wrong, but it seemed I saw a deceitful glare in her teary eyes.
"Alright,
Ruslan, seeing how Georgiy left me on the hook like this, I don't have any more
reason to protect him. Yes, you're right. Georgiy was occupying your body the
whole time you were playing Perimeter
Defense. Don't act so surprised. One of the reasons the game was made was
to improve human-consciousness-transfer technology. It can be done either via a
special machine, or by strong human psionics like myself and Mr. G.I. If only
you knew, Ruslan, how hard it will be for me to carry everything alone... If
only I had the strength... There's no time. We're already seriously behind
schedule. So, give me the paper. I'll take a look at what you wrote."
Miya
practically ripped the piece of paper from my hands and quickly skimmed it.
"As
far as the first point, sure, the money will be there. There definitely won't
be a problem with that. But this one here is gonna be harder: 'While in my
body, no drugs or alcohol.' For now, I can't give you a one-hundred-percent
guarantee, but I'll definitely try to think something up. Same for the next
point about antisocial behavior. Though... alright. We'll accept them both. I
swear by my abilities and the life of my only daughter, that no one will commit
antisocial acts or use narcotics while in your body. I hope that is good enough
for you."
I
nodded, somewhat shocked at the seriousness of what she had just sworn by. Miya
then continued:
"The
next points I don't get: 'Freedom to behave however I want in game. Guaranteed
safety for all those close to me, etc.' Ruslan, let's put this in more concrete
terms. What do you mean by freedom and safety here? And please hurry. Someone
might notice that Mr. G.I. is missing from the game soon."
To
be honest, I was expecting her to resist more forcefully on the last points,
all the more so given that I had asked for a substantial amount of money,
including a significant amount of moral and material compensation, both for the
last contract, and as an advance for this one. That was why I was surprised and
even somewhat confused by the levity with which my demands had been accepted.
Also, the pressure Miya was putting on me to hurry was hampering my
concentration.
"I
don't want to make any reports on my activities in Perimeter Defense. I must have the ability to do what I consider
right in a given situation. And I want a guarantee that no characters will
suffer at your hands just because they have become important to me."
"Was
there someone holding you back last time? And as for my actions... You can't
seriously suppose that the third most powerful Truth Seeker has nothing more
important to do than track down people close to you, right?" Miya asked,
surprised.
"Remember
when you paralyzed Florianna? Remember when you lashed out at Princess Astra in
the submarine?"
Miya
flared up in response:
"Ruslan,
your relationship with these characters had no influence on my actions
whatsoever! I simply had no choice but to shut that blabby little airhead up! I
did that for both our sakes. If I hadn't, it would have been two days at most
before the secret of your being in Mr. G.I.’s body was revealed, and everything
ended in complete failure. I would also have seriously suffered. You can't even
imagine how meticulous the administrators are about making sure that every Perimeter Defense character has only one
player. A couple of misplaced sentences about the real world, and you're done.
It's like the player was never even there! As for the second girl, it was just
raw calculation. Her pregnancy got in the way of my plans. But you demanded I
not touch her, and I agreed..."
"Miya,
don't try to squirm out of answering. Your listing off things that already
happened does nothing for me. I want a guarantee for the future."
Miya
looked me right in the eyes and said, slowly and clearly:
"No
one will hold you back, just as no one will forbid you from having friends,
girlfriends, favorites and even lovers in Perimeter
Defense. But the rules of the game remain as before: you cannot reveal the
fact that you are in Crown Prince Georg's body, and you must hold out for six
months while fighting back the Alien attacks. And another rule, just from me:
you cannot divorce my character in game. You also cannot have more children,
and you must defend the Unatari star system at any cost. These are crucial issues.
Failing at any of them will result in in your contract being terminated with no
pay. And, what's more, I would have no more reason to give even the tiniest
shit about keeping you alive in the real world. Consider this both a warning
and an official rule."
I
frowned, though I did understand Miya’s reason for insisting on these demands.
The last thing she needed was another player in a position to disrupt her
schemes. Her demands were basically fair. I had nothing against them and only
asked one clarification:
"Miya,
I can easily understand the divorce part. In the game world, it would threaten
the little Crown Princess Deia's position in society. I can also understand why
no more children. Your daughter has no need for competition or other heirs. But
what makes Unatari so special?"
Miya
looked at me with something like pity, as if she was once again frustrated with
my intellectual capabilities:
"Don't
you know? Because, according to the game storyline, Deia should be sleeping
soundly in her nursery on Unatari right now. And your mission is to protect
your daughter from danger, no matter the price."
"Let's
clarify the mission then. Do I need to protect Deia or the Unatari star system?
If I take her out of Unatari to a safe location, will protecting Unatari remain
a high-priority mission, as before?"
She
considered it briefly, then said:
"Ruslan,
of course, you are right to question this. The only problem is that,
unfortunately, your bright idea came too late. You won't be able to get Deia
out of Unatari. After all, I am not a normal player, but a Truth Seeker with
terrifying abilities. The game admins trust me. My character can be away from Perimeter Defense for long stretches of
time. For now, my daughter is serving as a beacon for me; I can always return
to the game through her. That means I can slip into the game without the admins
noticing. But there are technical nuances here that make doing that somewhat
complex. I need that very exit point right where I left it. As briefly as
possible, protecting the Unatari star system is of critical importance not only
to me, but to you as well. If it is lost, you will not be able to leave Perimeter Defense and get back to the
real world."
"Am
I understanding correctly that you will not be with me in Perimeter Defense then?" I asked, clearing up an important
point, which the redheaded beauty affirmed.
"Yes,
that's true. In the game, I am too vulnerable to my master, so I don't want to
risk being near you."
"You
don't trust me?" I laughed.
"Of
course not. I don't trust anyone at all. Not you, not Mr. G.I., and not the
game admins. Do you think I could have lived this long in Perimeter Defense if I was the trusting type? I leave you the
ability to call me three times for a short period, but only in extreme
necessity. Making a jump between the game and the real world is very tiring,
even to me. Do you understand my conditions?"
I
responded with a silent nod.
"So
then, we can consider the contract agreed upon. I see no reason to sign it. The
last time that was done just for atmosphere, to make you sense the weight of
your decision. You won't be able to take paper copies with you into the game
anyway and, what's more, there's no time for such senselessness. Georgiy can
barely wait. Alright then, you need to prepare your mind for the
transfer."
"And
how do I do that?" I wondered. Miya explained:
"You
need to fall asleep or get very drunk. As we have very little time, I suggest
the easy way: here's a sleeping pill. Take it."
Miya
extended her hand, revealing a pair of unstamped pills in a yellow glossy
packet. My whole life's experience, and all my cautious instincts were crying
out at that moment that it was a bad idea to take unknown drugs from the hands
of someone I barely knew, but I willed the voice of reason down to a dull
whisper. I washed down the two semi-sweet pills with a swig of mineral water
and started waiting.
I
was already feeling it ten seconds later. The restaurant began swimming before
my eyes. The two enforcers at the neighboring table took on the appearance of
Ravaash soldiers. Miya's clothing changed from an orange dress into a set of
brightly colored ribbons, and her straight red hair changed styles from down to
up. I started feeling quite sure that I had just made the biggest mistake of my
life.
"Pick
up after us!" Miya said to the lizards in Imperial language, and both
reptiles gave affirmative nods in reply.
The
Truth Seeker looked at her watch, then at me.
"Ugh,
Ruslan. Pray we won't be late, and that I have enough energy..."
The
last thing I noticed, already losing consciousness, was Miya stretching out her
hand to the Chinese souvenir lying on the table, carelessly popping the
transparent package open and... tossing the "plastic pearl" right
down her throat!
***
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
My
body arched back in severe pain, and I pried open my eyes in horror. There was
a blinding white light. There were some darkened figures bending over me. The
voices were gurgling, as if speaking under water.
"His
pulse is dropping again!"
"Clear!"
I
couldn't figure out what to even react to before another of the figures was
bowing down over me. The defibrillator shock forced my body to buckle in again.
I screamed. Actually, instead of a deafening scream, I was only able to squeeze
out a barely audible whimper. There were tubes down my throat and an oxygen
mask on my face getting in the way.
"We
have a pulse!"
"His
pupils are reacting to light!"
"I’m
detecting brain activity!"
"Blood
pressure: sixty over thirty and rising!"
"Give
me two CC's of nanite-7. We need him to heal faster."
I
felt a needle poke into my neck. I tried to concentrate and focus my eyes, but
I couldn't. As before, I could only see the people as dark, blurry contours. My
hearing, though, was stabilizing gradually.
"I’m
seeing more arrhythmia," came a voice belonging to a young woman.
"Pulse unstable: fifteen beats per minute. Should we give him another
shock?"
"No,
that won't be necessary. There should already be enough oxygen in the blood.
His blood pressure is stabilizing,” replied another voice with a strange
accent, sounding almost inhuman.
"Pulse
is at twenty-eight and rising."
"Blood
pressure is at seventy-five over forty. Brain activity is increasing."
"Patient
conscious!" The joyful scream of the third figure rang in my ears.
One
of them bent down over me. I tried to focus my vision and, with surprise, I saw
Miya in surgeon's whites with a mask on her face. She was looking down at me
with panic and suddenly locked eyes with mine.
"I can tell that
you can hear and understand me. Ruslan, you scared the crap out of me! The
transfer wasn't totally smooth. I don't really know why. Maybe, despite all my
tricks, some automatic defense mechanisms from the admins detected the change
in IP-address or ID-capsule. Your account was banned. In the game it looked
like a sudden heart failure. You spent three minutes clinically dead. I spent
practically all my energy trying to pull you back from the other side. But you
were able to squeeze out. The character is unblocked, and that is all that
matters.
Take care of yourself,
get your strength back. For now, like I said, I'll have to leave you. There's
no point in trying to call me into Perimeter
Defense for the next month and a half or
so. I just won't have the power for another jump. So, you'll have to deal on
your own. The Unatari defense forces are waiting for you.
Good luck!"
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