Chaos’ Game by Alexey Svadkovsky

 

Chaos’s Game

Book 1

by Alexey Svadvkovsky

 

 

 

 Release - May 26, 2023

Pre-order here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0C1CTDRZ4

 

Prologue

The Junkyard

 

 

 

It was raining. The thick, dark yellow drops hissed as they hit the massive metal containers littering the landscape — huge, rusty tanks, and old, rotten drum barrels. Whenever it rained, all living creatures retreated, sheltering under whatever they could to escape the toxic droplets. The splashing when the rain hit the ground was enough to burn through the flesh to the bone, creating a long-lasting wound. The vapors from the poison dumped upon the earth from the heavens wafted upward from the ground, emitting a greenish-yellow fog that made it impossible to make out anything more than five steps away.

An enormous young rat sat in its nest desperately gnawing on scraps of plastic lying about. The raindrops drummed on the box that served as its nest, and the rat was smart enough to know that it would be some time before she’d be able to forage for sustenance. First, the rain must stop and then, the earth must dry and the toxic fumes evaporate. Thus, when she saw through the fumes the figure of the man in the rain, she sat up and tensed, hoping for an opportunity to attack him.

As it was, though, the toxicity of the environment shielded the man more reliably than any armor. He made his way between the huge containers and around the heaps of junk. There was no doubt a time when those one could see usable items in the junk piles, but year after year of acid rain had rendered everything into amorphous rubbish. The grotesque piles resembled hillocks, except rather than rock and stone, they comprised hunks of plastic, metal, and the devil only knew what else was in there. That might be a mountain of broken chairs, atop of which teetered something that might have been a throne, or had it been a toilet? Next came a forest of rebar and piping embedded in crumbling concrete. Rusty bars protruded any which way from dreary gray slabs. The man glanced at a bundle of faded purple cables, and quickened his pace. He still had a long way to go.

The rat stared wistfully after his form as it melded with the dank fog, and then, whining from hunger, she again set about gnawing on the plastic.

The man tred carefully, looking down to avoid the puddles of bubbling toxicity hissing at his feet. The saturated soil stuck to his boots, and he had to lift each foot up and out of the muck with each step forward. And yet, despite the mud and the rain, the man strode ahead, the raindrops rolling harmlessly down the dark green cloak shielding him. In addition to the cloak, he was protected from the fumes and acidic splashes by a filtered mask over his face, gloves on his hands, overalls under the cloak, and the hefty boots with metal soles.

The world hadn't always been like this, but by now nobody remembered what had been. His attire was designed for chemical warfare, and so was ideal for the environment.

The rain intensified. The man sped up a little as he made his way between the heaps of garbage, debris, and skeletal remains of infrastructure. As he rounded yet another pile of pipes strewn over the ground, he saw what he'd been looking for:  shipping containers from all over from long, long ago. They were stacked on top of each other like an ugly, rickety pyramid. Now, they'd been repurposed into a labyrinth, with passages cut into them creating something like a human anthill. Crops were raised on the ground floors, and the upper containers were living quarters. The Yu-Mari didn't often foray outside, and for good reason. The rats out there could be big as calves, and they were dangerous. Who knew what they found to subsist on, but they found something or the other, because the rats kept on multiplying

The man reached the gate, which was fashioned from huge metal plates that had been welded together. Now is was covered in scratches and bite mark. He knocked for some time before someone on the other side slid open a peephole and peered at the new arrival. Then he and a couple of others struggled to open the door. The mechanism that used to open it had long ago ceased to function properly, so now the little Yu-Mari had to manually open it, but he was too miserably frail, and so the traveler had to throw his weight into helping slide open the panel door. It wasn’t easy, but with a groan, the metallic edifice slid open, first a crack, and then finally, enough of a gap was created to allow the man to squeeze on in.

Along the walls of the huge piping that served as a vestibule to the interior of the City, as the locals proudly called their metropolis, he saw who had helped him enter:  short humanoids with pale green skin and large heads. The effort they’d expended to open the entry gate had played them out such that they’d collapsed near the entrance to recuperate. By their side lay their wretched weapons:  thin metal rods with glossy glass tips, and several crossbows and arrows.

Now inside, the man slowly brushed the wet, poisonous droplets off his cloak, ensuring that none fell on the guards. Then, also taking care, he pulled off his gloves. He stashed them in a satchel hanging at his side, and then extracted a handful of small orange fruits, which he handed to each of the guards. They twosome didn’t have to help the traveler. They could have used the rain as an excuse to not put themselves out, because in so doing, they risked their health, at the least. They knew, though, that the new arrival always displayed his gratitude to those who helped him, and the fruits were much appreciated. They were impossible to raise in this world, and he alone somehow procured them, trading them for trinkets made by the locals.

Leaving the guards, the man moved on inside, shedding his protective outwear along the way. First the cloak, which he carefully rolled up, and then his mask. He packed it away in the satchel, which he then slung over his back as he continued on into the depths of the City. Now free of his raingear and mask, he looked far less menacing. He was, it turned out, a regular guy in his twenties, rather thin, with blond hair and gray eyes. His eyes, perhaps, were the only attribute that distinguished him. They looked more like the eyes of an old man who'd seen too much in his time rather than the eyes of a young man at the cusp of adulthood.

He’d gone less than a dozen steps along the corridor before stumbling across a local figure of authority, that being Su’ari, the student and assistant of a shaman who was the leader charged with managing this community. Dispensing with long greetings, the student quietly said, “You’ve come. This is good. The old man has been asking about you.”

“What does he want?”

“I don't know. He didn't say. But he asked that I tell you as soon as you showed up.”

The man nodded. He had a hard time fathoming what it was the leader wanted from him. Some kind of help with something? Or perhaps he simply missed certain delicacies from distant worlds that he alone could provide? Hard to say, but in time it would all become clear. In the meantime, there was no point in speculating over it.

“What’s the news since I was last here?” he asked Su'ari.

The student was standing right by him, impatiently shifting from one foot to the other in anticipation of the gifts that the man always brought him. Nothing like the fruits provided by man grew around the City, nor was there any other way that they could procure them. What they did cultivate in their greenhouses and plots on the ground floor didn’t even come close to the delicacies the man brought in. Later, Su’ari would trade them for trinkets that could sometimes be found in the landfill.

“There is no news, Player. It has rained a couple of times, but not as long and heavy as what's coming down now. The rats devoured three gatherers who were foraging beyond the Outer Rim. The desalinator in the greenhouse is broken. A search party was sent to a distant sector to find parts to repair it, but they were attacked by a pack of rats. They barely got away with their lives.”

“None of this is of interest to me,” the man cut in, waving dismissively. “Is there nothing of relevance?”

“No. No strangers have appeared, and nothing unusual has happened,” the student reported, concluding his side of the deal, after which the Player paid him with several of the fruits, along with a handful of large nuts.

Su’ari quickly stashed his reward in his pockets, taking a swift look around to see if anyone was watching them, and then he asked, “Can you help us deal with the rats? Without the desalinator, the entire crop in the third greenhouse will perish. We must find the necessary parts. The old man says they must be out there somewhere.” As he spoke, he gestured vaguely to indicate roughly where “somewhere” might be. “But the rats get in the way. They won’t let us look for them.”

“What do I get in return? You know that I don’t help unless there’s compensation.”

“You asked Short Legs to make you a long-range monoscope. He did it. It is yours if you help the gatherers get to the old greenhouse, and provide protection from the rats while they search for the parts.”

The Player stood there thinking about Su’ari’s proposal. He had, in fact, asked Short Legs about the monoscope two minor cycles ago, and Short Legs had told him he’d make one for him. The Player had brought a large supply of fruits, nuts, smoked meat and salted fish to pay Short Legs. These stocks of food could instead be exchanged with the locals for useful items, such as rare metals or engine oil, which was highly valued by the Metallics, the inhabitants of another shard world. The Yu-Mari had dug around in the landfill and other rotting piles of goods to acquire such items. So the deal was in principle a sound one. He could handle the rats, and that was the biggest threat around here. He would get both the monoscope, and a supply of goods for trade. Having considered the matter, he looked down at the student waiting for him to respond and said, “Okay. We’ll do it tomorrow. First, though, bring me the monoscope that Short Legs made. I want to take a look at it, make sure of the quality. If it’s not worthy of my work, you will have to come up with another way to pay me.”

“Don't worry. You'll like it. Short Legs spent two months laboring over it.” Su’ari was clearly pleased he’d sealed the deal. For now, the threat of famine had receded; without the harvest, they’d have been in trouble.

“Now, show me where I can get a little rest. The road here was not easy.”

“Follow me.” Su’ari turned and set off at a brisk pace.

The Player followed him, stooping, crouching, and doing what he needed to squeeze through the small doorways. The interior of the City was even more like an anthill, with the shorties scurrying back and forth, to and fro as they went about their business, some holding baskets, others preparing food or plying their craft, climbing up and down the pipes or along the railing cut into the sides of the containers. Despite their industriousness, the degeneration of the Yu-Mari people was evident: One kid’s left arm was longer than his right, another had an outsized head, a third had toes that were fused together...Those unfortunate to be of this place still had to battle with what lay outside, as the world they all inhabited was dying, and the little ones — they were perishing along with everything else. For the Player, though, this didn't matter much. He’d find out what it was the elder wanted, but first, tomorrow, he’d foray outside with the locals as they looked for the spare parts for the desalinator, and after trading some supplies for metals and engine oil, he’d say goodbye to this world and its troubles.

Sunk in his own thoughts, the Player reached the space kindly provided to him by the shorties.

“Enjoy!” said Su’rai with a magnanimous gesture to indicate his “refuge” that being another repurposed bin.

A tattered curtain hung over the opening, and a pile of rags were heaped on the floor in lieu of a mattress, next to which a small lamp burned, emitting a bluish light. That’s all there was by way of furnishings in the wretched haven. For tonight, though, it was sufficient. First, however, he needed to resolve the matter of his payment for tomorrow’s mission to procure spare parts.

“Don't forget to send Short Legs to me to show me what he’s put together. If it’s what I want, then we’ll do the job tomorrow morning.”

“Okay. He’ll be here soon.”

Su’ari wasted no time making an exit, then, not forgetting to draw the curtain behind him.

Finally he could relax! He pulled off the heavy boots, sighing with relief, tossed his satchel near the pile of rags and sat down next to it. What he wanted was to have a bite to eat, and then sleep.

Players rarely dropped by this seedy Shard, and when they did it was on the fly to, say, escape from the local rats, or the acid rain. Generally, players would leave as soon as they could and would never come back. Indeed, without protective equipment, which was costly, and also a good selection of Summon cards, lingering in these parts was extremely dangerous. But that was his code: To search where others fail to go, and to travel on the paths left untrodden. And it had brought him success. In the two decades he’d spent traveling through the Core Worlds, he had never found anything of value. Hundreds, if not thousands of other players were doing the same thing, almost stumbling over each other’s feet in their haste. He might meet his death at the drop of a hat, at the hands of duelists, in a showdown between clans, or just because the locals were tired of the players and their endless wars. And then there were the Hunters....Well, they were all over Chaos! Right then, stay away from the Core Worlds until you’d regained your strength. The Wolf was spot on when he’d advised him to get the hell away from the Core Worlds, and seek out power in the hinterlands.

Yes, the Wolf knew what was talking about. Luck had finally turned the Player’s way. It was, in fact, in this very world that he’d found his first gift — which had been left over from a past festival. He remembered his excitement when he saw the mark on the Compass screen: a blue light that indicated that twenty paces ahead of him was a gift from the Sovereign of Chaos. He’d never seen one before, but he remembered the protocol. Right before he found it, he’d been in a difficult fight with a large pack of rats. You see, the way he earned the trust of the locals was by helping them out with their problems. A huge pack of the rodents had laid siege to the City of Yu‑Mari, trapping the residents inside. This time, the Player had clearly overestimated his strength and the power of his cards, and ended up fleeing from the angry pack of rats as he waited for his Compass to accumulate enough energy for a jump. The fickle fog kept the creatures at bay for awhile, giving him an opportunity to break away. Then, he had to hide in the heaps of garbage for quite some time. That’s when he’d stumbled upon the gift of the Sovereign. With his Astral Gaze, he spied the small blue orb hanging a couple of feet above the ground. He drew nearer, touched it and said “Got it.” The ball shattered in a shower of sparks, replaced by cards levitating in the air in front of him. He touched each one of the cards, thereby transferring them to his Book. It was a good day. His first find. Later, there were others, but this, his first, remained the most vivid in his mind.

His memories of the past were interrupted by an “ahem!” near the entrance. Having alerted the Player to his presence, Short Legs pulled back the curtain and stepped inside. It was easy to understand why he was called that, as his legs, in fact, were so short that they barely supported his frail body. He was dressed in something resembling overalls, covered with oil stains, patches and holes, and sporting numerous pockets from which protruded tools, pieces of wire and various other obscure items.

“Greetings, Player. I brought you what you asked for.” And he extended toward him an object carefully wrapped in a clean rag.

The Player nodded at Short Legs by way of returning his greeting, and then he unwrapped the object, and stared at it in bewilderment. What he held was a thick, heavy pipe that was slightly longer then the breadth of his hand. He turned the pipe around in his hand, and pressed some buttons on the outside of it. He tried to peer through it, but saw nothing. Okay. Obviously he needed some instructions, so he looked up at Short Legs, who was sitting near the curtain covering the entrance.

“What is this? I can’t see anything? It doesn't work worth shit.”

Ignoring the rude outburst, the little man calmly replied, “Press the very first button and hold it for a while. You’ll see a red light. And then the device will be activated.”

After following the instructions, the Player looked through the eyepiece once more, and this time he clearly saw the Yu-Mari who was sitting opposite him. He saw even more than he wanted, including wrinkles, small sores and burns, almost invisible in the dark, but which were clearly visible thanks to the creation of the little genius.

“There are two more buttons. One is to zoom in, and the other is to zoom out. And there’s one more, on top of that. It lets you see in the dark. If you don’t use it too much, the battery has enough power for your three minor cycles. After that, you need to recharge it. You do that by placing it somewhere with a lot of sun, and pressing this,” and Short Legs indicated an inconspicuous switch. “Once the battery is charged, you’ll see a green light right here. It’s easy to use, and convenient.”

After playing with the new acquisition a bit, the now-satisfied Player set it down. The Yu‑Mari’s scope exceeded his expectations. He didn't expect anything like this when he’d placed his order. He pulled his satchel toward himself, and rummaged around in it, extracting a small bag stuffed with large dark green fruits, and also a dozen fish and a small smoked ham on top.

“This is your reward for a job well done.”

The little man forced himself to look away from the food, though he was close to salivating.

“I don't deserve so much. It was an easy job. All I did was swap out the battery and light filter.”

“Take it. Let me be the judge of what you deserve. Tell me, what was it used for?”

“It was used to monitor arriving ships.”

“Do you know why your leader wants to see me?”

“No. The old man is ailing. He will soon die. He’s barely able to breath, and is often delirious. Again he was unconscious for half the day. The dying have strange desires.”

Having answered the Player’s questions, Short Legs took the food he’d been given, and, carefully carrying his haul so as not to drop anything, he walked out of the ad hoc chamber.

The Player followed him with his eyes. Had he been rash by giving Short Legs more than he’d been asked to pay? Well, no. Generosity is worth it when it doesn't cost much. All of that food, not counting what was still in his satchel, was acquired for a couple of dozen beads of colored glass and plastic from the savages living on the Shard known as the Beach — a beautiful name.

Happy with his latest acquisition, the Player fingered it a little more, looked through it a bit more, and then stashed it in the satchel. It was time to lie down and rest up. After drinking some wine from a flask and eating, he summoned his Activator and set up a protective canopy. A small, lilac-colored dome enveloped his shelter for the night. Now nobody could creep in without disturbing him. He arranged the rags provided to him as a mattress, and put his satchel under his head, and soon he was dead asleep.

 

 

***

 

 

The night was calm and the morning brought no surprises. No one had attempted to kill him or rob him, and no other players had shown up. All in all, a marvelous night and, in his experience, a rare one.

Su'ari was already hovering near the entrance, patiently waiting for him to stir.

“The leader is alert, and would like to see you once you are back from the outing with the gatherers.”

“Okay. Are the gatherers who I am to accompany ready?”

“Yes, they are waiting at the gate.”

“Then lead me to them.”

The Yu‑Mari hurried ahead of him, showing him the way. Without a guide, it would be near impossible to know where to go.

Once at the gate, the Player saw the others. There were around 24 or so short men bundled in rags with homemade weapons in their hands. Looking over this “formidable army,” he slowly walked to the gates, which they were just now opening. Before leaving on something like this, a good policy was to run over what you needed to bring along. The Player summoned his Book, and took a look at his available cards. Zamran Spiky Cat , Satran Bullhead ... There weren’t too many Summon cards, so it didn't take long to decide what to use. First, the See-Um. This was a spell that allowed the Player to see anything that was living within a perimeter of a hundred steps. Then the Ash Dog, made of fire and stone. This was the most powerful card he’d ever found from the Sovereign’s sphere of cards, and Cerberus, which is what the Player called him, was one of his favorite creations. The Player also selected Dark Armor for himself. It would protect him from physical attacks for a span of time. That was probably enough. He had his crossbow, and his Activator contained five more deadly spells that he could use.

When he was ready, he turned to the Yu-Mari, who were hesitantly awaiting him at the exit.

“I’ll go first. You follow behind me. One of you should walk beside me, though, to show me the way.”

After conferring over this, one of the Yu-Mari pushed their selected guide forward.

“That way,” he said, pointing, and they set off.

So far, this looked like business as usual. The Ash Dog ran ahead, carefully sniffing and examining the surrounding terrain, the shorties followed some dozen or so steps behind the Player, but then he moved into the center of the group, and looked at his Compass from time to time. Every now and then, they had to make an unexpected detour. First, they had to skirt a huge puddle from the recent rain, and then a dozen rats suddenly attacked them. They leaped out from under some boxes and rushed the group, all of them screeching. It was all for naught, though. Eight of them were incinerated by the flames from his staff, and the Ash Dog killed the others — he bit one in half, and killed the other by breaking its backbone with a slap of his blazing paw. Their group suffered no casualties in the skirmish, and they went on their way, avoiding the mountains of garbage and seeking out passages between the bins and shipping containers.

Then, they came upon a trap. This time, some 30 or so of the rodents ambushed them in a narrow passage between two huge containers. The Player was ready for it, though. He raised his staff and directed it down the passage. A dark purple cloud issued from the staff, engulfing the rats, who screeched in agony as the noxious, thick fog began eating away at their bodies. Of course, their screams were short-lived, as the acid cloud made short work of them.

Again, they set off. Eventually, they reached their destination, which was almost on the border of the Shard. This was a hill that was cleared of debris on which a two-story-high building stood. The shorties rushed toward it joyously screeching. But yeah, with the Player, they’d all have been devoured by the rats back in that passage.

The Player stood outside as the Yu-Mari poured into the building, and the dog chewed on a pipe he’d found. He looked pleased with how things were going, too. Finally, the Yu-Mari were finished with their scavenging, and exited the building. They all had bundles of some kind of objects with them now.

“So, did you find what it was you were looking for?”

“Yes!” One of the shorties replied, indicating one of the bundles. “We also found some spare parts for the second desalinator.”

“Great. Let’s head back, then!”

Again, the dog led the way back, with the shorties following, and the Player in the middle of the group. The return trip was uneventful except for another attack by a small pack of rats. The Player killed one with his crossbow while the dog took care of the rest.

Once they spied the ugly pyramid of giant waste bins and shipping containers, the shorties cried out in joy: They were home! The Player felt a flash of envy just then. They were home. What an alluring word. Home ... It meant someone awaited them, of course. The gates opened with a nasty metallic shriek, and a crowd of Yu-Mari poured out. These were the loved ones of those who had gone on this mission. These were the wives and children greeting the adventurers — their fathers, husbands — like heroes, with joyous scream and hugs galore. It was like they’d returned from the valley of death.

The Player pushed his way through the crowd, and stepped into the entry. There was Su’ari, fussing about. He counted all of the men, ensuring that everyone was accounted for, and, satisfied, said, “Good job. They’re all alive. The old man wants to see you. Let’s go!”

Again, a march. But this time, it took longer. The old leader's refuge was in the very depths of the City. The entrance to his personal abode was marked by a large, elegantly embroidered carpet, or heavy bedspread. The Player couldn’t tell what it had once served as.

Su’ari walked up to the carpet-door, saying,

“Wait here.”

And then he ducked inside. He was there for less than a minute before returning.

“Come in. Try to make this fast. He’s very weak, and he has difficulty speaking.”

The Player threw back the carpet-door, and walked inside. It was dark, with a barely visible bluish light. The air was heavy, and reeked of sickness and death. The old man with bluish skin lay atop a pile of rags in the corner. His arms and legs flung apart like tree branches, his chest was heaving as he inhaled air. He saw the Player, and, with difficulty he lifted his head.

“You’ve come. Good. I have been waiting. Have you been able to find out anything about the fate of our people?”

A couple of major cycles ago, the old man had asked the Player to find out what had happened to the Yu-Mari‑‑ Looking at the old man, the Player hung his head because, seeing the hope in his eyes, he had a hard time looking him in the face.

“I haven't learned anything, leader. No one has heard anything about the Union of Yu‑Mari. What I did was submit a query through the Book to all players offering a reward for any information about you. Three responded, but their knowledge was not worth the dains I paid them. Just scraps of information of how you at one time existed, and then perished. No one knows anything about you, neither in the Techno worlds, nor among those who work magic and worship the gods. To get a more definitive answer, I must consult the Oracle, but this is a difficult path that I have yet to master.”

“Thank you for at least trying. You are the first to agree to help us. From time to time people like you come here. Some kill us, others prowl around seeking your god's gifts, but they all leave. Our world is poor and poisoned, and this is our only thing that saves us from the power that you wield.”

“Why don't you abandon this place?” For some time now the Player had been longing to know this. “I cannot go beyond the limits set by the Game, but you can. The Game does not constrain you. Leave this cursed place, filled with poison and rats and foulness.”

“We cannot, Player. Haven't we pondered this very issue hundreds of years ago? We selected this world for a reason. Before building stations and waste processing plants here, we spent a lot of time choosing a world whose ecosystem we would not damage with our activity. There was no life on this little world, which is precisely why we selected it. We erected a force dome, built atmospheric stations so that work could be carried out without protective suits, and we moved dangerous industries and research laboratories here. Then we built waste storage facilities, and plants for processing fuel rods and spent fuel from starships. We housed the damned rats in testing laboratories where we conducted experiments on them aimed at studying the mechanisms for surviving and adapting to a diverse array of natural phenomena.” He paused, and then went on.

“Transport vessels would fly in carrying the huge shipping containers that you see all around, all of them filled with equipment and everything you see out there. We processed whatever we could, and stored everything else in warehouses and other storage facilities. For many long years, this is what we did. Scientists and researchers and other specialists would fly in, serve out their terms, and then return to their homes. Centuries passed. And then one day, the ships stopped arriving. At first, we thought that it must be some kind of temporary glitch. Next, we tried to send a message home via the communication station, but nobody responded. Then we sent a small rescue ship we had here for emergencies. It never returned. We still fostered the hope that it would all work out, they they’d send someone to rescue us. Years went by, followed by decades. These were tough times. All of our necessities had been brought in by ship: supplies, spare parts, medicines. When that stopped, things started falling apart. And then one day, the processing plant for spent fuel exploded. The engineer in charge of running it had spiraled into a depression when he realized he’d likely never make it back to his home planet. He sabotaged the reactor that supplied the plant with energy. The explosion destroyed all of the waste storage facilities, releasing enough toxicity into the atmosphere to result in what you see now, this acid rain.....We cannot leave this place, Player. Yes, it is killing us, but we cannot survive outside the confines of the force dome. Sadly, we also cannot live under the force dome forever, either.”

The leader’s tale was interrupted by a fit of coughing that shook his entire frail frame. The Player summoned an Activator. He had a Lesser Healing spell — at least for a while it could help the old man.

“I have something that will help you.” And he pointed his staff at the leader.

“No, don’t...Save this power for those who need it most. I want to die. I have led the Yu‑Mari for half a century now, and my path is drawing nearing the end. I remember my father's stories about how people like you came here for the first time. Our people ran up to the first player, hoping that finally, someone had come to take them home. But he simply killed them, collected their lives, and offered them up on your damned god’s altar. After that, other players started showing up. We’d try to communicate with them. Some would kill us, and others were looking for something — we didn’t know what, and so they’d go off elsewhere. You are the first of the players to not kill us, and instead help us. Why is that?”

Why? It was complicated, not an easy answer, and it wasn’t just anybody that the Player would share this kind of information with. The Game had taught him to keep his cards close to his chest. However, he’d grown to respect the old man. It wasn’t often that he met someone who not only listened, but also understood. But his way of life, though, what motivated him, well, it was hard to put it all into words. Finally, he spoke.

“I serve Chaos, not evil, old man. The Sovereign of the Changing Worlds doesn't care whose lives I offer up on his altar. Women and children, the old and the young, die to make the dark flame on his altars burn brighter ‑‑ it’s all the same to him. But it matters to me. And it is the player who decides whose ambient he brings as a gift to the Laughing Lord. Ambient — that’s the life force, and the bane of players! All you have to do is succumb to temptation, let your guard down, and it will steal your mind and your soul from you. You must kill, kill, kill as long as there are those whose lives can be taken. And the more you kill, the more you lose of yourself — you dissolve in the waterfall of other people's deaths. That’s not what I want for myself. I don't want to turn into a monster capable only of sowing death. And that is why I kill only those who do not value the lives of others, or else those who leave me no choice.”

For some time the old man was silent, and only his ragged breathing broke the silence. He was, apparently, pondering what the Player had said.

“Listen to me. Maybe you should take our lives, Player? Maybe you could end our lives of misery and pain, bereft of hope? We are dying, and there is no way out for us. No one is coming to save us. More and more of the children are dying, and those who do survive, well, half are freaks, who don’t have long to live. We have less and less food, our equipment is always breaking down, and soon we will no longer be able to get it going again. So let us all go out in one fell swoop. Why should we linger on without joy, without hope, knowing that we are doomed?”

“Is that why you’ve called me here, old man? Is that what you wanted to talk to me about? You seek the death of your own people, whom you have served for lo these many years?”

“Will you do it, Player? Tell me.”

He thought, then, about the Leader’s request. I’d be easy to do it. All he'd have to do was gather them all together under some kind of pretext, and then, right away, he’d unleash the Breath of the Progenitor of Dragons on them, and any who survived that would be finished off by whatever creatures he summoned from his Book. Not hard to do, and he’d end up with several thousand lives to offer up on the altar of the Laughing Lord; which would definitely bump him up a step.

But did he want that for himself? He remembered the faces of the Yu-Mari that day, how their loved ones ran up to them upon their arrival, the smiles, the hugs....The Yu-Mari children were no different from the children of Earth. And he’d be killing all of them — those who trusted him, shared their shelter with him and their humble fare....Really, is this what he wanted?  The Junior Tournament was slated to begin soon. He’d put in a lot of time and effort preparing for it, so now there wasn't any point in seeking to ascend a step higher. In fact, it would spoil all his plans.

“No, leader. If want you really want is to kill everyone, seek out another player, or else you yourself send them on their last journey, but I don't need this.”

The leader heard the Player's words, and nodded, satisfied.

“I am glad I was not mistaken about you. I was testing you. You have passed the test, and are worthy of the reward.” Then he rummaged around in the rags he was lying on, and pulled out a strange spiral object, which he handed to the Player.

“Take it.”

Surprised, the Player took the gift, and turned it around in his hands. It was delicate, and almost weightless. It seemed to be made of liquid glass, it was so light, yet also elastic and resilient to the touch. At first, it was silvery with some bluish streaks inside, but gradually, in the hands of the Player, the color began to change to a light turquoise. Inside it were some objects that looked like gems, and which flickered, changing colors. It was like something alive, and very unusual. The Player watched as it pulsed in his hands, and his fingers felt a slight tingle, as if the object was discharging a weak current. It was bewitching, and it was only with an effort that the Player tore his eyes from it, and looked at the old Yu‑Mari.

“What is this, wise one, and why are you gifting me thusly?”

“It is a Tai‑Bari. It once belonged to my ancestor who ruled everything on this planet. You have told me about the different worlds out there, and about the machines that suggest solutions or produce calculations. We also used to have such technology. We created various machines, and they helped us traipse around the stars, build cities and factories, explore worlds and much more. But over time, our ancestors came to realize that we already possessed the most advance machine, that being our brain. Bestowed on us by the gods, it is the ideal machine for whatever you want. All it needs is a little boost to realize all that it is capable of. So then, our scientists mulled over this for quite some time to find out how to provide this boost, and in the end they created the Tai-Vari,” he said, indicating the strange spiral. “What it does is enhance the work carried out by the brain. It stores in its memory everything that its owner has seen and learned, and thus, it contains the knowledge required to render decisions and it helps the owner produce complex calculations. Moreover, it is self-taught, which means that it remembers everything gleaned from its previous owners. It also interacts with various devices, and even controls them.”

The Player looked dubiously at the strange spiral in his hands.

“This is a valuable object. Why are you giving it to me? Shouldn’t you give it to Su’ari? He is your successor, and the knowledge invested in this spiral could help him. And really, can I even use it? After all, you and I are not the same. Our brains are different, and so is our physiology.”

“I’ll start with the second question The Tai‑Vari will adjust to you. This will take time, and in no small measure, but it will happen. And when that happens you will feel the possibilities that it opens up to you. All you need to do is place it over your hand and it will do the rest on its own.” He paused, and then went on.

“And now I’ll respond to your first question. Why don’t I give it to Su’ari? There’s no point in doing so, Player. With it or without it, Su’ari can't change anything. Half a century ago, there were 50,000 of us living here. Now we number fewer than 3000. In another 30 cycles, what remains will be less than 1000. And in still another 20 or 30 years, there will be no one at all remaining. This is our fate, and it is inescapable. I can do nothing to change it, or stop it. No one else in this world can do anything, either. Our machines and technology break down all the more often and will eventually be unusable. Our water pumps, desalinators, generators are old and worn out, and everything is in need of maintenance and repair. We need parts that are simply impossible to find. Our crops, our water sources are all poisoned by the toxins unleashed into the atmosphere when the plant exploded. We, too, are undergoing mutations due to our constant exposure to radiation. Children, adults... You see what we have become.”

He waved his hand wearily as his body was racked by a dry cough. He cleared his throat, and went on, saying, “The rats are thriving while we perish. You told me about techno-worlds, where they can build ships that fly among the stars. We can still be saved if someone takes us from this cursed place. I am asking you, Player! No, I am begging you! Go to them, show them the Tai‑Vari. I have put my request for help in it. It contains the knowledge of how to find this world among the thousands of stars out there, and the path to get here. May they come here to take us out of here. We’re willing to be their servants, or even their slaves. We can still be saved! If they’ve developed the field of genetic engineering, everything could be fixed and succeeding generations will be born healthy. We still have our ancestors’ knowledge, star maps, technologies — all this we will give to those who save us ...”

A desperate plea, a cry from the depths of his soul, was heard in every word of the dying leader. It was his last hope, his attempt to save all that was dear to him.

“It is difficult, old man, to carry out your request. Any attempt to enter the techno-worlds are controlled by strong clans of players who do all they can to prevent anyone contacting these worlds. This is the leading cause of clan wars. However, I shall endeavor to help you, although it will take time.”

“All I am asking of you is simply that you try. You must be able to carve out some time, even if not much. We’ll do what we can to hang on. Your reward for this will be the Tai‑Var, which shall also serve as the herald of my words. It will also be your faithful assistant, and may even help you survive and rise to the throne of your Sovereign.”

“Tell me, why was it you first asked me to kill your people? What was the purpose of this test?”

“I wanted to see if you are worthy of my trust. I cannot entrust the Tai‑Vari with one who might use it for evil, or one who will forget about my supplication to him as soon as he has left this world.”

“So what would have happened had I agreed to kill your people?”

“You would be dead now, Player. Though I be weak, I have the power to use this.”

And, lifting his coverlet, he revealed a device that looked like a weapon.”

“It was once used to cut through the skin of starships. It can turn you into a fistful of ashes. I would have killed you to atone for all who have died in my world at the hands of other players. And also for shattering my last hope for the salvation of my people.”

“Next time you want to offer a deal, just ask for the Book and have the player enter the terms. Then the player will be obliged to fulfill the terms of the contract. I'll show you how it's done. Book!

The dark book materialized before the player, levitating in the air. He placed his hand on it, and slowly said, “I pledge to do everything in my power over 30 grand cycles to convey the message to the tech worlds. In return, I accept as payment an object called the Tai‑Vari.”

The Book glowed brightly as the Player finished speaking and removed his hand from it.

“We have entered a contract, and I have accepted payment. Now, I am bound by it. I must fulfill the terms.”

The old man was attentively listening, and now he nodded.

“Thank you. Now I can die in peace. I have done everything in my power. Go now, Player. I need to rest.” The leader was, indeed, devoid of strength now. The long conversation had taken its toll.

 

 

***

 

 

Su'ari was waiting for the Player outside the entrance.

“Well, have you talked?”

“Yes, it’s all good.”

“He will die soon, and I will then be the leader. I will need gifts and treats for those who support me. Do you have other tasty items? What have you brought?”

“Yes, I still have some food left.”

“Sell it all to me. I can pay for it.”

“Alright.”

Before he could even move on from the heavy conversation with the leader here was yet another deal. Su’ari led the Player to his space, and rummaged around inside before emerging with several bars of bright red metal which he handed to the Player. He then produced a large flask containing thick, dark yellow oil. Finally, he gave him a handful of dark gray metal rods. In response, the Player opened his satchel, and brought out bundles of fish, tightly packed bags of fruits and nuts, and several large smoked hams.

For some time, Su'ari stared at the growing mountain of food and did some mental arithmetic.

“That's all,” the Player said as he finished laying out his stash.

Su’ari nodded. He was satisfied.

“That’s a lot. Take all this!” And he pushed toward the Player his offerings in exchange.

The Player didn't try bargaining for more, and put everything in his bag.

“Are you leaving soon?”

“Yes. I have no more business in your world.”

Su’ari looking at him and said, “I envy you, Player. You are free as the wind, jumping around the worlds, traveling, visiting hundreds of different places, eating delicious food and drinking clean water and even wine. You are not afraid of anyone, you kill whoever you want. Neither time nor space wield power over you. I want what you have. I want to escape from our accursed little world! I even offered up prayers to your accursed god to make me his servant, but he is silent and does not hear my supplications. What can I do, Player, to be like you?”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Su’ari. It is not we who do the choosing; rather, we are the chosen. You can make sacrifices, kill everyone living here, pray endlessly, but Chaos will not hear you. I didn't ask for this for myself. I was just walking home from class when I saw a sparkling doorway calling me. I entered it and became a Player. I made it through the Labyrinth where I killed to not be killed. Next came the road, and the School of Tests. But no one with whom I spoke wanted to become players. We are in a game of chance, the joke of a mad god. Nobody knows how the players are selected.”

Su’ari listened to the Player and nodded.

“I guessed it was something like that.

Time to go, then. All has been completed in this world. Compass!

A sparkling disc materialized in front of the Player. The reserve of energy for the transfer was sufficient. On the screen were three transfer points that were accessible from this Shard. He didn’t want to go to the Beach. He’d just come from there. All that remained were the Anthill and the Cliff. The Cliff offered nothing but a dead, hulking stone emerging from the midst of a raging sea. He needed to go to the Anthill to complete a deal he'd spent a lot of time and effort on putting together. So why even thing about it? He selected the tab for the Anthill on the screen and said, “Jump!”

A glittering cocoon engulfed the Player. He flashed and then disappeared. He was gone from this world. Su’ari stood there for a moment, then, sadly shaking his head, he began hiding his stash of food in his dwelling space.

 

 

 

Chapter 1

The Anthill

 

 

The cocoon of light enveloping me faded, and then evaporated altogether. The transfer was completed. I was at the Anthill. This Shard was so-named because of the creatures that live here, which could be seen as either huge ants or beetles.

The transfer point was in a small circular clearing in the middle of a huge forest filled with strange mushrooms and fantastic plants. The mushrooms around the clearing were primarily gigantic porcinis that looked like toadstools. They were so massive in size that you could play soccer on their caps. Alongside the mushrooms were huge trees and massive shrubs with red berries the size of cannonballs that shielded the porcinis from the sun. A little ways beyond that grew giant ferns, each leaf of which could serve as the roof of a house. And all about you saw the creatures inhabiting this Shard running, crawling, jumping and flying about. The wealth of species that lived here was dazzling: huge, purple slugs moved slowly over a mushroom eating their fill; an outsized grasshopper with huge feet sprang upwards in the distance; a flower that looked like a rose the size of a tree suddenly snapped its petals over a centipede crawling by, and began digesting it.

I stood stock still, yet relaxed, in the midst of the clearing, fully aware that these creatures were taking stock of me and deciding how to proceed. It was difficult to understand the thought processes of insects. More than once I'd traded with them, exchanging goods from other worlds for formic acid. The techno-worlds were eager to trade for it, and this was a big help in acquiring dains. And in the Players’ Square, the green slug larvae were valued as a delicacy by the Maasari, the moth people, who would suck the nutrient fluids from them. I, in return, suppled the Anthill with rose sugar and baat — gray crystals that greatly accelerated plant growth. They knew me here, although they did not trust me, which was, however, par for the course wherever I went.

I stood in the clearing, and then engaged in my routine since first appearing in this world. I walked up to the edge of the clearing and laid out what I’d brought to trade:  a thermos of baat crystals and a few canvas bags of rose sugar. Then, I turned and walked to the center of the clearing, and waited.

Finally, the masters of this place showed up. A huge black ant emerged from under the leaves of a fern, and, approaching my offerings, he carefully sniffed the bags of sugar, and then examined the thermos of crystals. Having ensured that all was good, he emitted a squeak. More ants appeared. The first to arrive were always the warriors, who encircled the clearing. These were massive black ants with hefty jaws, strong, though thin, shells, and slender legs numbering three on each side.

I felt rather vulnerable. Were these creatures to attack me, it wouldn't be easy to fight them off. Maybe I could deal with one or two of them, but I was surrounded by eight of them now, and they’d take me out in no time.

An official (my name for him) followed the guards. This was an even larger blue ant. His jaws weren't as large, but he had four pairs of eyes and a huge head. He, too, checked out my goods, and finally turned his attention to me. He drew near, using all of his eyes to look me over whilst sniffing me. Once satisfied that it was me, he emitted a sound rather like a thin scream, or the whining of a saw. The soldiers, who’d seemed poised to rip me to shreds, now stepped back, while the official looked at me and began whistling and creaking. A bracelet around my wrist warmed up and translated the sounds.

“Peace, trade, food.”

Nodding, I echoed him by way of confirming my assent.

“Peace, trade, food.”

Done deal already. Good. The official gathered up the goods I'd brought and headed back to the fern from which he’d come. His retinue followed him. I waited quite awhile, and was already sitting on the ground resting by the time a worker ant showed up. He was brown, and half the size of the warriors. He placed two bags at my feet which looked like clear, greenish membranes, or strange plants of some sort, inside of which was a thick, sour-smelling, transparent liquid — ant secretions. Than another worker ant appeared with six larvae wrapped in cobwebs: thick, fat lumps that were warm and alive. I could feel them moving through the web.

I put all of these wares in my satchel in a compartment dedicated to special goods. I had no idea how the insects decided how much to pay me for what I brought. And it was futile to try to haggle over the terms of trade, including the price. The ants were unable to comprehend that kind of thing ‑‑ or at least that’s what they wanted you to think. I suspected that they were, in fact, much smarter than how they opted to appear. But I was satisfied with the deal. For 13 pounds of sugar and a flask of baat crystals, I’d paid 100 dains, and I could get at least 1500 dains for what I was getting from the ants. That is why the effort I took to get here, and the risk I took of the ants eating me alive were worth it. It was a healthy profit. This world, in fact, allowed me to survive in the Game, and it was my little secret. Many knew how to get here, but virtually no one else dared to come. Even the highest level players would pass on by this world, much less the players at my level.

But I was lucky. When I’d first shown up, it was pretty much an accident. I didn't know where I was. I took one fast look at the monstrous insects scurrying around, and didn't even think of lingering, and stood stock still in the clearing as I waited for the Compass to charge up so that I could get out of here as I looked at the strange thick bracelet I’d found using a Treasure Map. I was focused on getting out of what was clearly a dangerous place, and didn't have time to figure out what the bracelet was. I prepared to use my Blind Jump rescue card, which would transport me to a random world on the playing field. Once I picked up my Book, I found the description of the bracelet: “What you cannot understand, it can.” I paused, considering this, and then slipped the bracelet on.

I sat down then sipping wine (dark red, from Farin) from a flask as I nibbled a cracker pondering what it is I’d gotten my hands on and what I could do with it when suddenly I was surrounded by warrior ants who’d come out of nowhere under the cover of the night. Yikes! There I was, with 15 or so warrior ants around me. They were closing in, squealing, creaking, squeaking in their language.

Enemy! Enemy! Kill! Kill!

How alarming! I was choking on that cracker now. I spit it out along with my last swallow of wine, jumped up and yelled, “I am not an enemy! Not an enemy!”

The creatures stopped, their huge mandibles mere inches from me. I stood stock still as they conferred amongst themselves. One then departed as the others remained there to guard me.

I silently prayed to all the gods of Chaos that the Compass would charge up in time for me to get away, but no such luck. Then, a big blue ant appeared. He spent some time sniffing me and my things, which were lying on the ground by me. He was most interested in a hunk of sugar that I’d been nibbling on along with the cracker. I have a sweet tooth, you see. That sugar cube saved my life. The big ant picked it up and took off somewhere. He didn't come back until the morning. By then, I was exhausted. I'd stood on my feet all night long, afraid to budge. I'd even pissed in my pants, afraid to pee on the ground lest it be misinterpreted. The last thing I needed was for these creatures to see me pissing on a bush or something...They might think I was trying to mark territory — their territory. As for the pants, I could wash them later.

The monstrous blue ant came back, though, and greeted me like a friend. He squeaked at the guard ants, who backed off, and I plopped down on my butt because yeah, my legs were like jelly by then. The official, which is what I later named him, ran up to me, again sniffed me and said,

“Peace, not peace.”

I definitely wasn't up for a fight, and so I said, “Peace.”

The bracelet on my arm lit up and creaked something, and I stared at it, stunned. What with the unexpected stress I’d been under since arriving here, I hadn't really thought about how it was that I’d been communication with the ants.

The blue ant liked my response and again creaked at me. “Trade! Trade!” According to the bracelet, that was the message.

I thought then about what it was he wanted, and what, in turn, I could use from him. I didn't have a clue, but then again, this was the kind of offer I couldn't refuse. My objective at that point was to simply stay alive, even if for whatever reason they opted to maim me. I had healing potions, after all. Even if they bit my leg off, I could get to the City of Players, and then, given time, a new leg would grow.

I just wanted to leave ASAP, and so without thinking too much about it, I said, “Trade. Trade.”

Apparently pleased with my answer, the ant nodded, and again began to creak and squeak, and the bracelet again provided a translation.

“Food? Food?”

I was totally stumped by that one. What did he mean? Did he want to devour me, and was asking me if that was okay? Or did he want to feed me? How could either of those things signify “Trade. Trade?” Chaos only knew! I had to say something, so I sullenly replied, “Food. Food.”

The ant nodded, creaked to the other ants, and then they all left, while I stayed in the clearing. I didn't have a clue about what was going on here, but I took the opportunity to pull off my soiled pants. I didn't want to be wearing them when I jumped to a new Shard. After all, you never knew who’d you encounter, and, really, who wanted to zip around the universe stinking of piss? But before I could extract some new pants from my satchel, a new ant showed up. This one was brown, and not as scary. The ant set something down near me, and then retreated back into the mushroom jungle. I looked at the “gift” in bewilderment. It was a small, transparent greenish bag containing something that was sloshing about in there — either a caterpillar wrapped in a cocoon, or a larva that stirred as soon as I took it in my hands. My first impulse was to throw the disgusting thing into the mushroom jungle where it had come from, but my natural greed and curiosity got the better of me.

I stashed the sack with the larva into my bag, and summoning the Compass, I finally got the hell out of there. And in time, I forgot about the “little gift,” which remained in my satchel — who cared, even? — until that fateful day in the Market Square that I laid out everything I’d had stashed away. I didn't have room for new acquisitions anymore, so I decided to unload whatever oddities I’d collected in the various worlds I’d landed on. I sat in the Market Square, twirling the larva in my hands wondering if I shouldn't just toss it out when a Maasari, one of the moth-people, flew up to me, and, practically drooling he asked, “How much do you want for that?!”

At first, I didn't know what he was talking about, but he danced around me, he was so excited that he couldn't stand still. He pointed at the larva and again screamed, “Sell it to me!”

I hid my astonishment and managed to collect my wits.

“How much are you willing to pay for it??

“Fifty dains!”

No shit!!! I was so stunned I almost dropped the larva. Fifty dains for a nasty thing like that!?! But then someone else jumped in to the exchange. Another moth man flew up wanting to speak with the first Maasari, but once he saw the larva, he, too, squealed in excitement and wanted to buy it. This made the first Maasari squeal. I said I’d sell the larva to whoever made me the best offer. The result, in effect, was an auction. It went on and on ‑‑ each moth-man wanted the larva that much. In the end, the first one got it for almost 200 dains.

I ended up at the Market Square’s bar, and there I learned about the larva and the source planet. The Shard I’d been to was known as the Anthill, and trading with the inhabitants of the Anthill had been ongoing for some time now without any incidents. It wasn’t easy to hunt down the ants and kill them, after all, so players weren’t into killing them as sacrifices. The world itself was huge, but the Shard, that being the space in which the Player could move, was small — something like 10,000 paces long and 3000 paces wide. There was nowhere to hide in the Shard, and so if anyone dared to launch an attack, they’d come up against thousands of ants devoid of a fear of death or injury. Such a player wouldn’t know what hit him. And that is why players preferred trading with the ants rather than antagonizing them. The secretions produced by the ants in their glands were highly valued in the techno-worlds as they were used in expensive extracts both in the realm of medicine and also cosmetology. As for the larvae, the Maasari thought of as a rare delicacy.

Everybody was happy until around 60 cycles ago, when an errant player decided to forego trading with the ants, and to instead attack them and forcibly procure the ant extracts, as well as the ambient and dains. He came close to killing the local queen, and destroyed the anthill, exterminating many warriors and guards of the queen. Some of her retinue even perished. The player, however, overestimated his strength and underestimated the ants. They succeeded in saving their queen, and thousands of ants set about crushing the player before he could escape. They climbed over their own who fell before them to get to him, ignoring all of the creatures he summoned and spells he unleashed. I have no idea why the player failed to get away in time. Either he'd failed to ensure his Compass was charged for the jump before mounting his attack, which would be supremely foolish on his part, or he simply had no time to activate it before he was taken out. In any event, from that time onward, the ants attacked any stranger to show up in their world.

 

***

 

Night drew near. Already two small moons had appeared in the sky. The diurnal insects had fallen silent, and the nocturnal were not yet awake. The huge flower that ate the centipede folded its petals into a bud, closing up until the dawn,

I extracted from my satchel a small lamp I’d brought from the Junkyard, and by its bluish light I leafed through a treatise on the art of war. It was hard for me to focus on what I was reading, though. I didn’t to eat. I didn't want to drink. I was anxiously anticipating the upcoming meeting. Would it work out?  I got my flask out, and took a few sips to calm my nerves. But I didn't want to drink too much — I needed a clear head.

Finally, movement stirred the foliage near the clearing, and the huge brown ant I’d been waiting for emerged, followed by a retinue. These were the ubiquitous guardsmen, who were larger than ordinary warriors and encased in golden shells. The ant creaked, “Did you bring it?”

I silently fished out three sacks of select rose sugar from my bag. It was made in the Inner Worlds, on the distant planet of Cynur. That’s where huge flowers grew which, at certain times, secrete nectar. The locals collect it in barrels, where it then solidifies, turning into solid sugar which is then crushed and sold. It smells wonderful and tastes even better. In short, I’d brought the ants the finest, most costly variety of sugar — I’d paid 800 dains for each of the bags I laid out. That was more than I could allow myself for a treat, but not a bad business investment.

The aristocrat carefully sniffed the bags, and, seeing how the antennas on his head trembled, I could tell that he was delighted. And he should be! Usually I brought a cheaper grade of sugar for trading, and might even cut it with something, ending with a one to two mix, but this was uncut, pure rose sugar — top-shelf stuff!

“The quality is far better than what you brought before,” said the ant.

He was smarter than the official, and had a better vocabulary. I’d met him three long cycles ago during another trade. Once the deal was done, like usual I sat in the clearing and read a book as I waited for the Compass to accumulate energy for the jump. That’s when a monstrous ant, followed by a retinue, crawled into the clearing and asked if I had any more sugar. After a brief chat, I ended up transferring my personal stash of sweets to him. In the process I found out that he was one of the queen’s 12 husbands, and part of her retinue. It seemed that to punish him for inadequately performing his marital duties (or whatever — hard to say), he’d been left out when she distributed the sugar to the aristocrats as a reward and incentive, and, since he had a massive sweet tooth, he decided to see me on the sly and get a treat for himself, unbeknownst to the queen. I made a trade, but this was now contraband.

“What I brought is very expensive. This is a concentrate, it is then diluted in a ratio of one to ten. But I promised I’d bring you the best quality to be found in thousands of worlds, and I’ve kept that promise. Even your queen hasn’t tasted anything like this.”

“What do you want in exchange?” asked the aristocrat as he held the bag. “I don’t have an adequate supply of food for you.”

“All I want is what we talked about last time, which is to move beyond this clearing for one short night, and travel around your world.”

“That’s impossible. The queen had forbidden us to allow your kind to move beyond the clearing.”

“But I can't do any harm. As you told me yourself, the queen's abode is beyond my reach — I’m not able to travel there. And I’m all alone. I cannot do any harm.”

“That other was also alone, but he killed so many that the queen had to produce multiple egg clutches to restore the population of workers and warriors.”

“I can swear to you on the Book that I will not harm anyone.”

“Why should I believe that your Book will not allow you to violate your oath? After all, it is your Book, and it serves you.”

I didn’t bother trying to explain what the Book was all about. It would take too long, and, anyway, he’d have a hard time believing it. I had to come up with another strategy.

“If you don’t believe me, then assign your warriors to watch over me, your entire retinue even, and if I break my oath in any way, let them kill me.”

That argument carried weight with the aristocrat. He looked me over as if seeing me for the first time, and then looked at his hefty warriors, and then he nodded, saying,

“Alright. I cannot assign the entire retinue to you. I have to get back to my home, after all. Six is enough.”

“Then we have a deal?” I asked, fearing that the incredulous insect might change his mind.

“Yes, a deal,” he confirmed. Then, picking up my sacks of sugar, and, tensing, he expelled a wad of foul-smelling greenish-white mucus.

“Smear this all over yourself, and then the warriors I assign to you will not touch you. In the morning, the slime will dry up and stop emitting odor, and the guards will kill you if you are outside the clearing.”

Raising his head, he chirped something to his own and quickly crawled away into the darkness. Six ants stayed with me.

Okay then, time was flying. I didn't have much left for this, less than half of a day’s cycle. The night-day cycle was swift here. But I’d prepared in advance for this mission

“Book!”

I quickly leafed through the Book levitating in the air, stopping at the section on animal-mounts. Unlike ordinary creatures, these beasts, in addition to being able to fight, could also carry a player, allowing him to quickly move around whatever world he’s in. They were very useful if you needed to make a fast exit, or wanted to quickly explore a new world. They were also good for carrying cargo. In fact, they were extremely useful creatures. Sadly, they were also very rare.

“Summon!”

I selected the Mist Lion card, which was my only mount. It depicted a huge lion with dark fur and a golden mane. This predator lives in the World of Mists and Clouds, so named because often the endless fields and forests of this world are shrouded in fog. In this impenetrable fog, the Mist Lion can easily stalk its prey.

And in response to my summons, the beast began materializing in front of me. First, the body, then the head, gradually growing brighter and acquiring form. It had a saddle on its back, and a small bridle around its neck. The Mist Lion stood there patiently awaiting my commands. I scooped up the aristocrat’s mucus and rubbed in all over myself, and also all over the torso of the beast. I was almost ready to set out, but first I need to attend to a couple of more little things

I needed the Book yet again. This time, I had to select some spells. First, Dark Armor. Better safe than sorry. It would protect me for some time, ensure invulnerability to my body. After that, we’ll see. I also needed Night Vision. No way did I want to stumble through this forest unless I could see what was out there. After activating the spells, I finally took a look around me. I could see clearly now, as if it wasn't even night. Time to do this thing!

I mounted the lion and said “Forward!” We were off! The guard ants ran alongside us as I peered at the Compass, which I’d configured for this search. It should be set to reveal what it was I wanted out here. This Shard was, essentially, virtually unexplored. There had been two Junior Tournaments since the big attack on the ants, and this world was so vast that there could well be some of the Sovereign’s gifts out there, waiting to be found.. But the gifts were actually secondary to my primary goal. I was most interested in trophies, things left behind from that player who launched that attack all those years ago. There must be something. The player had perished, that's for sure, and so that means all of his attributes — his Book, Medallion, and Activator with his satchel, must be where he'd perished. And even if he’d spent the best of his cards in the battle for his life, something must still be there and that “something” is what I wanted. Even if he had no more than a dozen cards left in his Book, and the satchel itself was empty, it would justify all the days of effort I'd put into this quest. The Medallion should glow until a new player found it and extinguished it by taking the belongings of the deceased. Such remains are depicted as small green shards on the Compass screen. Cards were depicted by a blue glow, treasures or golden pyramids by a yellow glow, enemies by red, and allies by a white glow. There was a special designation for everything.

 

 

***

 

 

A night flight through the jungle. My beast was swift, as if rejoicing in the fact that it had again been summoned from the map, and could yet again run like the wind across the terrain. He leaped over fallen mushrooms, dodging branches and insects scurrying through this wondrous forest. Finally, just I thought it would, I saw a flickering light on the screen — a green glow. The player had died somewhere to my right — around 80 paces from me.

I directed the Mist Lion toward it, stopped a couple of steps from the spot, dismounted and walked towards the column of green light rising from the ground. As I approached, I had to make my way through foliage, old branches, and the shells of insects. I dug about three feet into the soil and finally saw the player’s remains: dry, brittle ribs, and near him lay his satchel and the Medallion, glowing in the dark. I picked it up and stared at it in bewilderment. It was around the size of a plum, and filled with icons in a language incomprehensible to the uninitiated. Any player, however, could understand whatever he needed. On the reverse of the medallion, I saw a small spiral embossed on the surface of the casing. It looked like a snail’s shell that was broken into segments. There were 66 segments — the initiation stages, which were completed as the player ascended the ladder of power to the throne of the Laughing Lord.

But the dead player had only completed seven steps. This meant that the player had just started on his path, and was an Initiate of the Lower Levels. How, then, had he managed to unleash horror on the ants such that they still remembered it?

Dumbfounded, I stared at the Medallion as it dimmed in my hand, and said, “Got it!”

The luminous Book that had lost its owner manifested in the air in front of me. Now it was mine. Next to the player’s Book appeared my Book. Reaching out, I slid them together, uniting them. There was a flash of light and then, only one Book remained in which all of the dead player’s cards had been subsumed. Opening my Book, I skimmed through them.

Something was wrong. This player couldn’t possibly have fought a serious battler, because the six guards with me here could easily have done him in. This player can't have been the player I was looking for. So who was he then? Why was he here, outside of the clearing? Did he want to hunt some ants? Not likely. He was too weak. He’d either fled to escape from something, or else he’d been looking for something. But what? Perhaps gifts from the Sovereign? But even if his Compass had been incredibly powerful, reinforced to the max, it could only scan some 250 paces around, while this spot was almost 3000 feet from the clearing. Was he fleeing from pursuers? Not likely. It’d be futile to even try to out run the ant warriors. The Mist Lion was one of the fastest rides to be found in the Game, but the ants had no problem whatsoever keeping up with us.

I wanted to get to the bottom of this, and so I decided to take a closer look at the player’s body, or rather, what was left of him. There were some shreds of clothing still on him, and when I examined it, I saw that it was a chameleon cloak, used for camouflage. Of course, it was in tatters. Nearby lay a pair of daggers with chipped blades, as if they’d struck something solid. Okay, no surprise there. The ant’s shells were great protection, better than that provided by a knight's cuirass, able to hold up against flying bullets, even...And then I saw it; his skull was that of a cat man. Okay, I was starting to get the picture.

I saw what had transpired here. Some 20 years ago, for whatever reason, this player decided he'd take a risk by penetrating deep into the territory of these creatures unbeknownst to them. What he didn’t take into account is that the cloak would hide him only from hostile eyes. Ants, however, have a great sense of smell. He encountered a patrol that easily detected him. After a quick fight, the player died an inglorious death. So then, this player had, at great personal risk, traveled here. Why, though? Was it a random search? Did he hope that, since this world had seen few visitors, he’d be able to find some of the Sovereign’s gifts, heretofore untouched? Perhaps. But would I take a chance like that simply in the hopes of a lucky find? Chances are, no. Nobody knows how the gifts were distributed around the worlds. It was luck of the draw when you found one. One world might contain dozens of them, while in another, none were there to be found for thousands of years. So then, to risk your life in the hopes of being really lucky, well, that would be stupid.

And so I had to assume the obvious: he sought a treasure. Treasure Maps were sometimes found in card spheres. If the player had in his possession such a map, then he could go right to the treasure, that being a gift of the Sovereign. The takings might include maps, dains, gear, munitions, even mounts. It was in just such a treasure horde that I’d found the translator bracelet and the Misty Lion. I’d only twice in my entire life come across a treasure horde, and both were in hard to reach, dangerous places. They were hard to find without a Treasure Map, though, as the Compass didn’t display them, and regular search cards also didn't work.

But for every rule there is an exception, and this was certainly the case in the Game.

My Book was still out, and I went to the page of spells. I found the Giant’s Eye, and read the description. “When the giant opens his eyes, nothing can hide from him.” It was a rare, limited-use card that I could only employ a total of five times. But if there was a treasure here, the Giant’s Eye would enable me to find it without a map.

I looked doubtfully at the spell. I’d used this card thrice already. If I was wrong about the treasures, I’d be wasting it. Been there done that before. But I went over my reasoning again, checked my inner feelings about this endeavor, and decided it was a sound risk.

“Activate!”

The card in the Book began to change. Now it depicted a huge giant sleeping on a cliff. Then he got up, stretched, rubbed his eyes and finally opened them. Now my Compass could show me everything hidden from normal search spells.

Again, I set off. I had a routine for conducting searches that I’d developed over years of traveling around the Shards. I had my mount run around the perimeter of the Shard, and then I’d spiral inward like a funnel. I found this was the fastest way to see everything there was within the borders. The Mist Lion carried me on and on, and I struggled with doubts about whether I’d done the right thing in using the Giant's Eye. It’s not like I could simply pick up another one at the store. Cards like that were hard to find even in card houses, nor did other players want to sell them. Even if you managed to find one, it would cost you something like 2000 dains. As a rule, the only way to get one without finding it was through a trade. I, for example, acquired mine in the card sphere. Yep, it’d be a shame if I’d wasted it here...But I couldn’t double check my hunch about the treasure.

Just then the Compass displayed a green glow. This time, it led me closer to the center of the Shard, near some kind of mountain or hill. When I drew nearer, though, I could tell is was an abandoned anthill, now in ruins. Obviously this anthill hadn’t been inhabited for many years. I looked around and realized I was right — this was where the battle with the player I’d expected to find had taken place. The queen and her retinue long ago left here for a new abode, taking her clutches of eggs with her.

All around were tree trunks overgrown with budding plants and carpeted in foliage. I could see several insect shells, as well, left by warrior ants and even guards — all that was left of the arthropod warriors who had battled the player. You could tell that this was where a fierce battle had raged. The trunks were scorched from a blast that had ripped them from the anthill, and the shells were crumpled, and even torn in places, while the anthill itself looked a bit like it was listing. Looking at the dense undergrowth that now covered everything, I could guess where uprooted trees had once stood before spells and explosions had ripped them asunder.

Near the entrance to the anthill, which was in the midst of a thick pile of golden, shimmering ant shells, I saw rising from the ground a green flame burning in a column. Over the many years, the debris comprising piles of leaves, grass and twigs, made it hard to reach the column, and so I called my lion over to clear a path. The Mist Lion set about doing as ordered as I looked on.

I was standing near the Mist Lion watching him work, when a shadow suddenly emerged from the side. Before I could summon my staff, the ant guards attacked the shadow. It was a huge spider, but the combined force of the ants knocked it over on its back. Then, three of the ants fell upon the arachnid, tearing into its soft white belly, releasing an spurt of intestines and gunk.

After dealing with the arachnid, the ants then resumed their places next to the other guards. “Sleeping on the job!” I reproached myself. I’d almost let that spider eat me for lunch! Good thing the guards weren’t just there to ensure I didn’t violate their territory. I’d have to give that aristocrat ant something special to show my gratitude.

I saw the tunnel the Mist Lion had dug, and told him to stand aside. I could now see yellowed bones in the earth, and these bones were much larger than those of the other dead player. The elongated facial bones, and the rows of sharp teeth had belonged to a lizard man. Near him lay a massive mace that emitted a soft glow in the dark. I picked up his Medallion and Book, and said, ‘Got It,’ and then I combined his Book with mine. I resisted the urge to see what I’d acquired ‑‑ that could wait.

Now for the weapons. I opened my pocket of trophies and put the mace there. I had to struggle to lift it from the ground. Then I searched the area around the bones, and found the lizard man’s satchel. He certainly didn’t need it anymore. And that was it. All that was left was to check out the anthill itself, and then I could leave. I’d used the spell in vain. There weren't any gifts of the Sovereign here. I guess he’d opted not to shower his grace upon this world.

I leaped onto the lion, and said “Forward.” My retinue of ants ran alongside, quickly moving their feet. Just then, I heard the giant roar, and then a golden mark appeared on the Compass screen. I couldn't believe my luck, and I even rubbed the screen — but indeed, it was no trick of the eye. Both the giant and the Compass confirmed that, in the middle of the anthill, where the queen's dwelling used to be, was a hidden treasure. It was hidden from strangers, and visible only to someone with a map.

Now I realized what had happened. The lizard hadn’t come to attack the ants. He had a Treasure Map, and all he’d wanted was to collect the treasure. But the joke was on him. It was just like the Lord to stash the treasure in the middle of the anthill, in the queen's chambers. To get to it, you’d need to demolish the guards and everyone inside. The lizard tried, but couldn't do it.

There could be many maps out there to a particular treasure. Until the treasure is found, maps to it could be found anywhere, but as soon as a player finds the treasure, they expire and are useless. And so the important thing was to get to the treasure first. No doubt the other dead player, the cat man, had found a map somewhere, and wanted to get to the treasure, but also failed. Now, it looked like the treasure would be mine! The first had tried to get to it by brute force, the second by cunning. I, however, succeed through patience and luck.

I ordered the lion to proceed to the anthill, and we made our way there. The lion easily jumped over fallen tree trunks that, despite the years, seemed rooted in place. We drew closer to the mark. I held onto the lion’s mane, hoping he wouldn’t fall off the slope. Climbing steep inclines wasn't the lion’s forte.

Finally we were right by the golden light. I dismounted and approached it.

“Got it!”

A golden pyramid appeared in the air, and dissolved into a shower of sparks. Dains rained down like golden chips. I touched each of them in turn and said, “Got it,” and they disappeared, while the Book issued a melodic ringing. Five thousand. Not bad. Next came the cards. I saw three of them levitating in the air. I touched each one of them, transfering them to my Book

I was almost out of time now. The sky began to lighten, the smell emanating from my clothes was dissipating. I had to move fast to get out of here before my guards decided to devour me in the same way they’d snacked on that spider.

I sent the lion back and turned to the Compass. I saw two transfer points on it: The Junkyard and the Steppe. I selected the Steppe, otherwise known as the Sea of Grass. This was a quiet location where I could relax and sort through my haul.

“Transfer!”

Again, the radiance enveloped me. And then it disappeared, taking me with it.

 

 Release - May 26, 2023

Pre-order here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0C1CTDRZ4