The Lag (The Game Master: Book #1) (9 page)

"Don't you understand that even the emergency logout doesn't work?" Beast slammed his fist on his own steel breastplate. His face was distorted with fury. He leaned sharply toward Attila who barely suppressed the desire to slap him with his sword. "What else do you need?"

This enormous scruffy male was shuddering like a scared little boy. What did he mean, the emergency logout didn't work? That wasn't possible!

Attila thought of his body lying sprawled on the couch back in his apartment: suit, helmet and all. How long could it stay like that? It was a good job he'd put on some diapers but by the same token, he hadn't bothered to insert an energy drink cartridge into the helmet. He hadn't thought about having some water at hand, which was even worse. And he hadn't had a proper meal or a drink for ages. How long would his body last without food or water considering it couldn't even breathe properly in that suit? He was going to die, as simple as that!

To hell with all his skills and software! Forget the Eye! He had to leg it!

"I've tried," Yanna said as if she'd read his thoughts. "Nope. Won't work. I think he's telling the truth. But I... I shot all those people. I didn't kill them for real, did I? That can't be right!"

She was trying to maintain an air of self-confidence but she wasn't succeeding. Attila closed his eyes and tried to open the Logout window. It came up faded. The logout button was disabled.

He opened his eyes, trying to stay calm. "You're a legionnaire, aren't you?" he asked, trying to keep his voice under control. "You work for RussoVirt. Can you tell us how to quit the game?"

"And you're a hacker," Beast snapped. "An outlaw. An enemy of society. So shut it," he paused, then continued more humbly, "Don't you know that legionnaires are hired players? They don't accept everyone who applies, of course. They have a selection to pass. I've only joined recently."

"So how come they assigned you to this op? I'm not some petty criminal, you know."

Beast flustered and began rearranging the mace slung across his back. "That's why. Because I'm, like, your age demographic, the way I speak and all. They thought you wouldn't smell a rat."

"I see," Yanna squinted at him. "It's true that your manners are a bit off. You're just a kid, you."

"That's what you think," Beast snapped. "I'm in senior high."

"So!" she nodded. "Can't they create something to filter kids out?" Yanna turned to face Attila. "Sometimes I feel like shooting them all and nailing their heads to the wall in my room. They're worse than mobs. Constantly in the way."

"And you're an adult, are you?" Beast retorted. "You're only a spring chicken yourself. You think if your avatar grows a pair of tits that makes you an adult, right?"

"You little brat!"

Attila shifted his gaze between the two. This banter was probably their way of dealing with stress. He listened to their exchange for a while, then clapped his hands.

"Enough! Shut up, you two. You've vented enough. We've got to decide what to do. You... what's your name?"

"You know I'm Beast," the kid mumbled.

"And in real life?"

"It's Misha. Misha Bolshakov."

"And I'm Ivan, Ivan Attila. Or just Attila. And you?"

The girl gave him a crooked smile. "Didn't you hear the first time? It's Yanna."

"Same as your name, then? Okay. Nice to meet you, everyone. Now, Misha Bolshakov, if you're such a smart legionnaire, you're obliged to know more about this than we do. Any suggestions how we can get out of this mess?"

Beast shrugged. Then he almost jumped out of his skin as his Book woke up with a cheerful jingle.

"Connection's back!" Beast grabbed his Book and began spinning the knobs.

His joy was short-lived. His shoulders drooped. He shook his head. "Doesn't work anymore."

The other two had already readied their Books and were now staring at dead screens too. There was no connection at all. They couldn't even open the map.

"This was the emergency channel," Beast explained. "Just something we all have. Oh, look! A message from Legate, our chief. He wrote it personally for each of us!"

"What's he saying?" Attila asked.

Beast silently mouthed the message, moving his fat orcish lips. His eyes opened wide. "What do they mean, Code Crimson? It can't," he spun the knob some more, "it can't be! They told us it's never happened in Gryad before! Ever!"

"What d'you mean?" Yanna asked.

"Well, you know, legionnaires have these emergency codes. Like, Code Green, Code Yellow, Code Red... depending on their urgency. Crimson is the worst. It means that we're really in trouble. Here, take a look."

He showed them the screen. The red letters of the message glowed bright.

To all of you! Code Crimson! Gryad is facing extinction! All personnel to report to the Valley of Death. I have vital information to convey to you. Repeat. This is Code Crimson. Numerous fatalities among players are confirmed.

Chapter Five

"T
hat can't be right!" Yanna thrust her finger at the Book. "So if I get killed here it's gonna be for real, is that what he's trying to say? Yeah, right! How can an arrow even make a hole in me? Or how can a fireball burn me to death? These are just digital codes, not real bodies; our bodies are back in real life! How can they even turn a virtual death into a real one? We're not here at all! We're all
back there
!"

Glaring, she advanced toward Beast who shook his head, looking confused. He didn't say a word, just kept wiggling his bushy eyebrows.

"And how about those who sit in front of computer screens?" she demanded. "Are they going to die too? What a lot of bull!"

"No, they can't die," Beast ventured. "He's talking about those in capsules or suits. Because their brains are like totally online."

"Why should I believe you? Go lick the Admins' boots, you little creep!"

Attila had to step in again. He nudged the girl aside, separating the two. "Leave him alone. What's he got to do with it? It wasn't him who wrote this, was it? It's a message. And if you think about it, our consciousness is also some kind of digital code in a way. Which in turn interacts with the game. And if the game has been compromised, it could indeed lead to..." he paused. "In other words, the best thing we can do to sort it all out is to do what the message says. We should go to the Valley of Death."

Yanna stomped her foot. "To do what? To get yourself copped by digital codes! Don't you understand it's a legionnaires' party? They only see you as a criminal."

"Given the circumstances, that's irrelevant," Attila said.

"Okay, just give me a scientific explanation of how a char's virtual death can terminate his real-life body. Prove it. Then I'll believe you."

She was a piece of work! Attila would have loved to give her a smack. "I'm not going to prove anything," he said. "You're not my wife nor my mother-in-law. You want proof? Go and smoke yourself and see what happens. Personally, I'm going. He and I," (Beast energetically nodded his enormous blue head), "we're going to the Valley of Death. Nobody's forcing you. Either you're going with us or we part ways."

He turned to Beast. "I can't say I really remember how to get there. D'you know the way?"

Beast stuck out his bearded chin. "Sure! You may be a criminal but it's safer together," he pointed at the lake. "Over there. We'll follow the lake until it curves, then turn off into the woods. The Valley of Death isn't very far from here. Wanna get going? If we don't hurry up, we might miss whatever the Legate is going to say."

The guy was a lousy leader, Attila thought as he followed him. Despite all his airs, Beast looked insecure as he kept looking back, checking on them. And this Yanna, how long would it take her to drop her act?

He got his answer straight away.

"Hey," the girl said before they could take a dozen paces. "You, what's your name... Attila! You're not going anywhere. Not before you pay me back. Neither of you is going! I'll shoot you, I promise!"

Beast stumbled. "Leave her alone," Attila said. "Give her a chance to vent. She'll go with us, you'll see."

He could hear her cuss behind his back. A bowstring twanged; an arrow whizzed overhead and pierced the sand far ahead. Attila heard the soft stomping of feet catching up with them. Soon the girl's fist shoved him in the back.

"You owe me seven hundred now," she said.

"I don't have it. Go and talk to him," he nodded at Beast. "He's the one who didn't pay me for the work."

"You're something else, you," Beast commented. "So it's my fault now? Actually, you done good. A loner is the way to go. I should have known it. This whole legionnaire thing was starting to get to me. I was thinking of dumping them."

They kept going. Yanna walked separately from the other two, kicking the heads off the yellow dandelions. They passed the lake and entered the forest. Beast was talking non-stop telling them stories from his legionnaire past about all sorts of petty little errands he had to run chasing petty offenders and stalking dishonest vendors, all for the miserable wage of three gold a day.

Attila listened absent-mindedly while trying to work out the almost indiscernible changes around him. The colors had faded; the rustle of trees didn't sound the same. It was like some reality shift as if he was watching the world from a different angle. Now the Dead Canyon felt even eerier — more hostile than before. More menacing.

"Hey you, Blue Face," Yanna interrupted Beast's soliloquies. "Mind telling me why you didn't shoot fireballs at the ghoul back there?"

"I was out of mana," he explained. "The Storm had sucked me dry, even with the helmet on. But it's back to normal now."

"Actually, how many spells can you cast?" Attila asked. "I thought you were a warrior at first. Like all you could do was use your mace. Thought you might have some rudimentary magic — the Barbaric kind, you know. Orcs are Barbarians, aren't they? That's the kind of magic they normally use."

"I'm not a pure orc, am I? I'm half half. In any case, orcs are a good choice if you want to level elemental magic. My Fire branch is maxed out, so I can spend all day hurling fireballs if I want to. Not that I can do much else."

"A Barbarian warrior and a fire wizard," Attila said. "Interesting combination. But not a tank?"

"Nah. I'm not what you'd call a good tank," Beast admitted. "Listen guys, how about we share what each of us can do? In case we come across some mobs or even robbers... Did you know there're robbers in these woods? This way we'll know each other's strong points. Look at me: I'm a Half Orc, an Eliminator. I have a heavy mace and heavy armor. Fire attack magic. I have Deafening Roar for a magic skill, and Whirling Crusher for combat. They're the main ones, not counting all the minor stuff. Lots of health and shields. And you?"

"Human, Ranger," Attila began. "One-handed sword and rawhide armor — not too special but I've been working on it. It's already nine thousand hell points. I know how to use a bow of course but I don't like it so normally I don't wear it. I'm good at close combat; I have a few combos any top rogue would be proud of. I have no magic whatsoever so I have to use charms and scrolls. I've invested a lot into Intellect and also Charisma. NPCs tend to like me, vendors drop their prices for me. And whenever I come across a book or a scroll I can read them. You?"

For a while Yanna didn't reply. Finally she deigned to answer,

"High Elf, Hunter, Ranger. A bow and throwing knives. A long dagger. Light leather armor — very light. More of a prom gown."

Beast chuckled.

"I've got long-range kill all leveled," Yanna glared at him. "And don't you forget it, Blue Face. I also have Speed Flight so I can shoot arrows faster than you can throw your fireballs. I have very little magic, just some basics. Plus Accuracy, Agility and Speed."

Attila wasn't listening. He'd finally understood what was wrong with the world around him. Before, the Canyon used to be quite pretty despite all the doom and gloom. The artists made sure to have added a touch of color and charm here and there to help players feel comfortable and at home. To ensure they stayed here for as long as they could.

But now the sky was pregnant with laden thunderclouds blown by a piercing freezing wind. Nothing like that had ever happened here before. Also, he had a funny feeling they were being watched. He'd gotten this sensation immediately after they'd left Gamekeeper's hut and it had kept growing ever since. It was as if someone was peering down at Attila, watching him like a sniper watches his victim through his sights. Whatever could have caused such major changes? If only they could contact the real world!

Once again he reached for his Book and checked his Skype connection. Nope. It wouldn't start. If anything, his anticipation of danger had grown.

"I see a Crusher ahead," Beast reported. "It's huge. Better give it a miss."

They had to take a detour. Soon the conifers parted, replaced by greenwood. Earth was softer here — as it should be in a deciduous forest. The game designers had shown a remarkable attention to detail.

Again Beast broke the silence, "Attila? Mind me asking who you are?

Attila shrugged. "I'm just a guy."

"And where do guys like you come from?"

"Moscow. You?"

"I live in Switzerland with my parents. Dad's a scientist with the European Nuclear Research Organization. They offered him a contract. But originally I'm from Kiev in Ukraine. I can speak English so I can study with the local guys, I suppose, but my parents sent me to the Russian consulate school instead. And it's a joke really, nothing to do most of the time. And now we're on vacation anyway. So I thought I'd try this legionnaire thing for a change."

"Truant," Yanna chuckled.

Beast went on, dismissing her remark, "Only my parents are constantly on my case. My dad is tough. He wants me to read physics and, like, follow in his footsteps. But science is so boring."

He only stopped talking when they came to a shallow ravine crossing their course, left by a river that used to flow here ages ago. Its center was marked by the rusty shell of a ship almost half-buried in the ground. It listed to one side, its only lopsided mast staring at the sky. The ship was overgrown with creepers. Its upper yardarm hung with something that looked like filthy tattered bedsheets. They fluttered in the wind, sparking and crackling with static. A faint whiff of ozone hung in the air.

They stopped.

"Oh, no," Yanna said. "That thing on the mast, is it Rust? Wow. You don't see them very often. They're said to emit some powerful natural necro magic. What's the name of that debuff now... Grave Breath. Does that mean that if it hits me I'll wake up a brain-dead idiot in real life?"

"No idea what you'll wake up like," Attila said. "Beast, should we really go past it? Or is all of this ravine just as bad? Honestly, I don't like it. You said you knew the area."

"I did," Beast stared at the ship, licking his fat purple lips. "There were no magic emissions here before. Then again, the Rust wasn't here, either. The Dead Canyon keeps changing. And now this Storm. I really don't want it to scorch my brains. I don't want us to be stuck here forever like some flippin' zombies. Actually, my helmet should protect me."

"Well," Attila walked out onto the former river bank and reached into his pouch for some birds' bones. "Surely if there were any emissions, we would all have had a headache. But I have nothing of the kind. Look at me, I'm stepping closer... and closer... It seems all right. But in any case we shouldn’t approach the ship itself."

They took a detour of about six hundred feet across a forest track, testing the area by throwing bones in front of their path. The wood closed in around them, crawling with aberrations. They avoided a Magneto and scared off a couple of fire foxes bristling with flames. Dangerous for a loner, the foxes didn't dare attack a group of three and beat a hasty retreat, leaving whiffs of smoke in their wake.

Only now did Attila remember the bag he'd taken off the dead legionnaire. Should he look and see what was in it?

He checked the bag's four slots one by one but all were filled with some caked goo of unknown origin.

"What's that?" he showed it to Beast. "I thought legionnaires keep some special-purpose cheats in there?"

"We do. Only they are made into spells. You can't get them anywhere, they're not for sale. They do it because they don't want to disrupt, what's it called, the autistic experience."

"
Authentic
experience, you moron," Yanna butted in.

"That's what I said. But the Storm had baked the spells solid. Newbs like me don't have them. Why do you think I joined the legionnaires? It wasn't for the money. I wanted to get access to their cheats. As if! They don't issue them to you straight away. All they did, they helped me to max out the Minor Dome of Goodness in my helmet."

Suddenly Yanna ducked down and put her finger to her lips. Attila and Beast froze. Crouching, she stole toward a growth of brushwood in front of them and peeked out, then nodded to them.

A group of black figures was stealing through the forest before them.

"Jeez," Beast's voice was hoarse. "They're clerics."

Or rather, Silent Brothers, Attila corrected him mentally. What were they doing here so far from the Citadel?

Clad in wide pants and chainmail shirts over short black cassocks, the Silent Brothers walked in unison, their faces hidden by hood masks. All carried light staffs; one of them had a longbow in a loose cover on his back. The longbow glowed purple. They were headed by a tall figure clad in a dark cloak.

"A Nazgul," Beast mouthed.

Or rather, a Dark Paladin, Attila corrected him again. The leader's cloak hung open, revealing an occasional glint of armor. His head and face were concealed by a pointed hood. His long ebony staff resembled a thin strip of darkness crowned with a skull handle.

Attila, Beast and Yanna lay low, holding their breath. The clerics moved noiselessly, an occasional crackling of a broken twig underfoot barely betraying their passage.

"What are they doing here?" Beast whispered. "They never ventured so far away from the Citadel before."