The Battle (29 page)

I quickly looked away and smoothed down my hair which stood on end. The altar’s energy was off the scale. It made me think of a high-voltage electricity transmission.

I scrolled through the clumsy menu.

Folk gods, fairytale gods, mythical gods, custom gods...
aha, here it is;
fictional gods!
That’s where I had found Aulë some time ago, and I had also seen his beloved wife under this category.

True, they were fictional. But along with gods, people had imagined entire worlds where these entities lived, gaining power and experience. We played them while they played with us, drawing on our power and quickly blending in with reality.

And now the gods were returning,

Yavanna, The Giver of Fruit, a Mighty Element, Second only to Varda, Queen of the Stars.

Yavanna, creator of plants, beasts, and birds. The one who brought up the forests of Middle Earth, the mother of the wise Ents.

"I summon thee!" I announced, touching the appropriate line in the menu and confirming my decision.

The world tilted and shook.

Pantheon alert! A new power has entered the world! Yavanna, Giver of Fruit, the mother of all that grows, protectress of farmers, has joined the Dark Pantheon!

Somewhere very close, a channel into the Great Nothingness opened up, stirring up horrible memories and chilling my spine.

A flash of excess energy momentarily blinded the crowd.

I blinked, hearing the quiet oohs and the whispering of all those present. That was the downside of my night vision and sensitive eyes.

From underneath the Temple dome, a beautiful woman in green was slowly descending onto the altar. Her pupils fluttered underneath her eyelids. Her face looked pained. She must’ve spent quite some time in the destructive Emptiness.

Unlike the demonic Lightfighter, the goddess came to her senses rather quickly. Her feet had barely touched the altar, and already we felt the first droplets of the strength of a new world. Yavanna opened her red teary eyes.

Her intense gaze passed over the Temple. She stretched out her arms, pulling fragments of the astral world’s borrowed energies.

Her dainty little foot rustled over the emerald, drawing protective runes. Yavanna, helpless like a miserable level-1000 mage, wasn't averse to using even the most simplistic of rituals.

Finally she drew her first breath. The goddess’s lips parted. She began to sing.

Obeying her gentle call, the plants stirred, trying to form a wall around her and cover her from any possible threat.

The Valley’s numerous beasts raised their heads, listened in alarm, then raced to the Temple. Their mother was calling!

"Yavanna, my love!" Aulë cried, opening his burly arms to her.

This distracted the goddess from attempting to contact the planet’s infofield. She loosened her mighty connection with the astral world and, finally, singled her husband out from amongst hundreds of thousands of potentially dangerous sentient beings.

The goddess lifted a brow. A suspicious smile lit up her cheerful face. "My dear, is that really you?!"

"I’ve promised that we’d be together again! Look! This world is ours! It wants your kindness, just like me! My Valar..."

Aulë clambered over the heaps of gold to his wife and took her in his arms.

Widowmaker gave a starting signal, and a million butterflies of different colors soared upwards! Beautiful!

The goddess let go of her husband and looked around in a completely different, lordly manner.

"Is all of this for me?" Yavanna asked, pointing her slender finger at the gold.

Aulë nodded. She smiled. "A fine metal..."

She waved her hand, and the gold disappeared. The gift was accepted.

The system instantly converted the gifts into Faith Points and upgraded the altar by one level.

Nice!
Another reason for all the
doubters to accept the new goddess!

Yavanna closed her eyes and gave a quiet moan of pleasure. Turning to the eager crowd, she gave a low bow. "I thank the dwellers of this wonderful world for summoning me! I bestow my blessings upon you!"

Pantheon alert! Yavanna’s week!

Effect 1: double crops on all farm fields!

Effect 2: double offspring for all pets!

Effect 3: magic herbal potions doubled in strength!

The goddess grew noticeably pale. Aulë grunted with satisfaction, put his arm under his wife’s elbow and whispered into her pretty ear, "Love, we have very little time! We are invited to the Fallen One’s Residence for this evening. He’s the leading god of the Dark Pantheon. And now, allow me to show you your private chambers!"

The goddess smiled encouragingly and leaned against the bearded giant.

He blushed instantly, an indecent bulge appearing on his pants. The couple, reunited after thousands of years, disappeared in a deafening clap of a portal.

I sighed, relieved. Everything went well this time, no surprises.

I looked at the inner interface, frowned and accepted the long-ringing chat invite in the alarm channel, "Yes?"

"Sir, it’s Orcus! We have an emergency!"

"What happened?"

"Looks like an update from Lurch: the Crypt mana circuits have been destroyed in ten spots. Some complex alchemic oxidizer! Droid respawn terminated! Max, our leveling up sanctuary has gone to hell!"

Chapter Nineteen

A
little earlier

The Super Nova Castle of the First Temple

Precious item vault: Arsenal 4

The three-foot-thick door creaked loudly as someone accessed the Incubator. A downside of game physics: if you want a room to stand up to half a million damage, you better have a massive door.

I looked at the young children jabbering away behind me. They were the most promising ones. In other words, they were the most talented at ignoring the game laws.

There were clerics with their necro-pets and wizards with two-handed swords on their backs. Also rogues who got their mana from hell knows where and skillfully mimicked the elder kids' fireballs.

"We’re going in!"

The magic lamps came on, illuminating a dozen Basilisk eggs carefully laid out in the fine Frontier sand. Nine Ancient, two Wild, and one Royal.

"All right, kids, who’s ever decorated Easter eggs?"

At least half the kids got excited and raised their hands.

"Good! Well, we missed Easter, but these eggs we've got here are truly special! I guarantee you, THIS kind has never been decorated before! Throw away your chalk, pick up your brushes and paints. And don’t forget! Each egg needs a name! Can you all write? Wonderful!"

The kids crowded around the paint rack while I approached the Royal Basilisk egg. I pressed my hands to its shell, closing my eyes. Concentrating, I said in my mind,

"Welcome, King! I’ve completed my part of the deal!"

Freetown. Residence of the Governor Elect

"You have four minutes. If you can get His Excellency interested, he may allow you more time if he deems it necessary. It’s five hundred gold, full payment upfront."

I looked at the gaunt secretary suspiciously as he said this. The self-proclaimed bureaucrats were completely out of control! They were the quintessence of corruption!

Pulling out my wallet, I asked, "What’s the money for, and why’s it so expensive? The Wiki lists the city services as free and voluntary. It’s only for fun and to help the players.

The little power-hungry rat chuckled disdainfully. "Win the election first, then you can have all the fun you want until you turn blue. But right now, without the Governor’s confidential visa, you aren’t even allowed to sell balloons. The City Master has a thousand ways of dealing with you smartasses!"

I shook my head. "As far as I know, the election was purely symbolic; there were no other candidates at the time..."

"Ha! You think it’s easy to get to level three of Fame? Laughable! It’s a protective barrier of sorts that guards against shady riff-raff who think themselves capable of running cities. Besides, why would we need to pollute the market square with campaign announcements? Siesta is for resting! And as for the town crier, we’ve found one, haven’t we?"

I raised a brow ironically. Shrewd fellas these were.

As for fame, I was at level eight: "You are a princess’s dream." Oh, well, this goon wasn’t supposed to know. The Shadow of the Fallen One ability kept my base stats safely hidden from prying eyes.

The secretary couldn’t read my face and stomped his foot with irritation, making the silver buckle on his shoe jingle. "Are you going to pay or what? If not, the exit’s that way!"

The rat pointed to the stained-glass window, clearly enjoying himself.

As if affirming his point, the office doors swung open with a crashing sound. A few burly guards squeezed through it. They dragged out a helplessly struggling man. His round frameless glasses flew right off his nose and were squashed under one of the guard’s boots.

The man squinted and said in a barely audible voice, "What is this? This is outrageous! I’ve already paid all my taxes to the king! What’s this ridiculous city collection?! Ouch! Aaah!"

He was tossed out the window, doubled up. His cape with the intricate emblem of the Jewelers Guild flapped one last time.

Bam!

"Fifth floor!" the secretary noted with delight, then stuck his head out the window and added, "You are fined five thousand gold for breaking an authentic Murineli stained-glass window!"

In response to my puzzled look, he grinned and lovingly wiped the colored glass with his sleeve, "Think it woulda been easier for him had I not prudently opened the window? So, have you made up your mind? The window or the office?"

I shook my head silently, tossed him the money, then headed to the office doors.

Yep, Rain the Wise was right: lawlessness and defamation...

Inside, an imperious-looking man was at work. He sat at his desk, writing something in a hurry on city letterhead paper. He spared me the momentary glance of an extremely busy person, "Don’t just stand there! What brought you here, speak!"

I took off my cap, crumpled it hesitantly, and related the myth I had prepared beforehand. "I wanna open a business. An ethnic Elven food restaurant. Sold a condo in the real world to try my luck here, in the virtual one..."

His Excellency waved his hand impatiently. "Save the details for your grandkids, I don’t care! Which neighborhood? How many cubic feet? Investment size?"

"Silk Quarter, the First Commercial line. I saw a nice little place: twelve hundred cubic feet. Investment: one and a half million gold, all that the McGregors have acquired over three generations!"

The bureaucrat’s eyes dimmed for a moment. I could almost hear him clicking away on his virtual calculator. "That'll be 120,000 for commerce power, plus a ten percent weekly royalty. One of my men will be appointed to the management as a means of control. That’s all. You can pay on the third floor."

Having said that, the man instantly lost interest in me and went back to his writing.

They sure had it tough here.

"And what if I refuse?" I asked quietly.

He lifted up his head at that, studied my getup, then frowned once he saw that I was in a state of anonymity.

Finally, he put down his pen and leaned back in his soft armchair. "You can try. And I’ll tell the ogre who cleans the streets that he’s got a new place to dump shit. At your restaurant’s front door. And he’ll have guards with him, so the little guy can feel safe. Or I’ll set yer place as the new dump site. These are some of the options city rulers have in their interfaces, you understand. If you want, I could also change the royal pigpen excrement dumping location. Wanna guess the new address?"

I even groaned, surprised at the numerous options. Boy, did the local bureaucrats milk businesses!

I said with a note of misery in my voice, "But how come I have to pay again? I’ve paid the royal treasury already. All my paperwork’s in order!"

The man shrugged with feigned sympathy. "Extra expenses due to the diarchy. Downsides of a transition period. Look on the bright side: this problem will be solved soon. Very soon..."

A dreamy smile lit up the governor’s face. He gestured at the door, indicating that my time was up, then gazed out the window at the fretted spires of the royal castle in the distance.

He sat up straight, glowing with pride, his head jerking slightly under the weight of an imagined crown.

Wow, Rain the Wise had foretold this also. Some were getting way too far up their own asses as they waited for the revolution.

The governor day-dreamed, heading for success, while I summoned up my well-hidden state of being the First after the Fallen One.

The Soul and the Universe are both infinite. Once I threw off the artificial locks, an uncontrollable power burst out, flooding and injuring the delicate structures of my astral body. Everything has its price.

The aura of power spilled forth. The birds stopped singing. The flowers shrank back. Quarreling pedestrians fell silent in surprise. The eyes of an ancient tilted statue atop a faraway hill lit up with hope.

The governor’s bodyguards jumped, sensing danger, but froze under my heavy gaze.

The fact that the governor didn’t respond to the odd, unnatural silence, caught me off guard for a second. But seeing the drool dripping from his mouth and his glazed-over stare, I realized that he was simply paralyzed by all the power I had aimed at him.

Oh, well, anesthesia prior to surgery never hurts, I figured.

Helping the world’s matrix complete the needed action, I tried to give it as much as possible to work with. Pointing an accusing finger at the unmoving governor, I raised my voice as I pronounced the verdict,

"You! Your presence is poisoning Freetown. You’re preventing this place from growing and developing! You plan to overthrow the government, you exploit the people and you covet the crown of my ally. Oblivion is a punishment you deserve!"

For making my wish come true, the universe charged me severely. It was as if my power collapsed into an abyss, leaving but a few drops at the bottom of my soul. The Fist of Freedom crushed the governor, tearing the delicate astral connections and knocking his soul into the Great Nothingness.

How long he’d stay there, only the gods could tell. A day at the least, or until complete disembodiment at the most. Should friends and citizens rekindle memories of him with kind words, extending fibers of salvation into the emptiness, he’d be back. If not... may Lloth have mercy on him!

His empty shell sagged in the armchair, then slowly melted away, leaving behind a standard gravestone.

Relieved, I cursed under my breath and wet my bleeding lips. I was glad that I’d managed to do it.

I pulled out a portal scroll to the Royal Residence and broke its seal. The portal appeared with a pop. A moment of vertigo, then I saw the shining gold of the private chambers of Rain the Wise.

He looked at me in surprise. I nodded reassuringly. "My part of the deal’s done. The city’s yours! You’ve at least a day to elect a new governor and to perform a major clean-up in the ruling sector."

I was sitting in my office, frowning as I skimmed Lazar’s report. He tried to read the minds of the NSA and plan out the Light clans’ and their countless mercenaries’ attack on the First Temple.

I definitely did not like what his analysis predicted. Had the Revolution been on the enemy’s side, we’d have been in big trouble right now.

Constant tricks and traps, immense pressure and hits below the belt –attacks on the real world, relatives, children, finances and personal values. Recruiting double agents on all levels, terror, blackmailing and taking hostages...

Glancing over what Lazar had come up with, I quickly thought up some appropriate countermeasures. Ten warriors go here, a lookout goes there, magic signals here and there, pay off such and such, so and so, get one loose-lipped guy to talk...

Everything went smoothly, although the available forces and resources were melting away like ice in the sun.

A courteous knock on the door made me look up and squint my weary eyes.

Lizzie was not alarmed. She kept sharpening her nails until they looked like last chance knives.

That meant it was our guys. Most certainly with Orcus.

"Come on in, colonel! What news do you have? What’s on your mind?"

"Greetings, Sir! Your authorization is required. Don Lucchesi’s consiglieri from the European cluster has stepped up to be the clan’s official communications rep. He wants to meet with you personally."

I raised a brow in surprise. "The holy father?"

"The godfather. A mafioso, come to the virtual world for semi-retirement. An old guard dog at rest. The consiglieri is his right-hand man and adviser. Highly respected and dangerous people in both worlds."

I shrugged indifferently. "Hm... all right, schedule a meeting. Collaboration with the triad has brought us a lotta loot, don’t see why the Cosa Nostra can’t do the same. And tell the Analyst to dig up as much info as he can on these Sicilian boys."

In a few hours, after everything had been arranged and the guests were transported to the Super Nova, Don Lucchesi’s envoy came to see me.

He looked presentable, about fifty years of age, gray hair, crew cut, wise gaze. Most likely the adviser’s real age was over ninety, hence the odd middle-aged avatar. The world tried to balance the exterior and the perma player’s self-perception.

His level was hidden. But because it looked gray to me and purple to Orcus, I guessed it was around 250. That’s why he looked at me with such respect; it wasn’t often that he ran into players with levels surpassing his own.

He must have never been to the Asian cluster. While the Europeans lazily rolled outta bed, the Chinese would already be finishing up their first level-up shift, gulping down their breakfast, then moving on to the second shift.

The consiglieri’s class was also hidden. His old-school business suit contrasted sharply with the magical medieval setting, making others feel like idiots in shining armor in his presence.

I welcomed him and showed him to a cozy conference armchair. I snapped my fingers, summoning a waitress to set the table with the best cognac and light snacks.