“I can only get money in Alterra, and you pulled me out just when I was within spitting distance of a top-class prize.”

  “Don’t worry, virt isn’t going anywhere. We need to get you far away from here as soon as possible. You saw those young lunatics? They’ll draw the attention of the police. On the other hand, though, best to let everyone look at them, not us. You know, you look pretty strange for New Atrium. It’s okay, we’ll get you cleaned up as soon as we get ourselves situated somewhat normally.”

  True, the elderly alpha, shuffling forward, held his eyes on Jack for a while. Jack also glanced at a passer-by to see how people dressed here and how an alpha should look in general. All right, he would get a black suit, like that guy. But dying his hair… no, too much.

  The alpha walking by them didn’t like the looks of Jack and cleared out rather quickly.

  “Where are we going, Goodwin?”

  “I hope things haven’t changed much in New Atrium. There was a quiet place here.”

  It wasn’t far, just a few blocks. Well, yes, Jack remembered the old man used to work in Genotech and he must know the area.

  They stopped in front of an entrance decorated with gilt plastic dragons curling over the door jambs. The place was called “The Golden Dragon”.

  “Dragon? Is this Chaos’s area?” Jack asked. “In Alterra, Chaos is master of the Dragon God.”

  “Here, he’s the master of noodle soup.”

  Inside, everything was decorated in a style Jack understood to be oriental. A soft semi-darkness, low tables, sofas, and gilt. Dimly glistening scaly bodies snaked over everything, their bug-eyed, fanged dragon muzzles stared blankly. Once, it had probably been a popular place, but that time was long gone. The gilding was flaking off and dust had collected in the corners. Jack even noticed a cobweb. He also noticed that clients were nowhere to be seen. When they entered, a strange melody of alternating high notes played. It had to be an audio system somewhere that reacted to motion. Goodwin explained this place was a fragment of the past, and this style of eatery had long since passed. Young people had already forgotten why such places exist. They could find the same thing in Alterra, even better.

  “But I don’t play,” he growled. “And I remember what real oriental flavor is. There may be no East anymore, but the flavor still exists.”

  They settled themselves at a table and right away, a short figure in a blue robe embroidered with the same dragons hurried to them from a dark corner. It was a woman with a heavily powdered face, which accentuated her heavily lined, narrow eyes and bright red lips. She kept her hands hidden in her wide sleeves and glided across the floor so fluidly, as if her legs weren’t moving at all. Like she was rolling on wheels.

  Jack started to rise, but Goodwin grabbed him by the elbow.

  “It’s a machine, relax. There are no alphas here, only automatons. The kitchen, this little doll… everything is run by machines.”

  The robot styled to look like an eastern woman stopped in front of their table and, still concealing her hands in her sleeves, bowed. Now her movements were jerky and it became clear to Jack that it was an automaton. Its white face reminded him of Lisa’s, of her playful expressions, making him feel miserable.

  “How can I serve you, fine gentlemen?” the automaton chirped in a melodic voice. “Dinner or a room for the night? Perhaps some other wishes? The Golden Dragon is ready to fulfill your order.

  “Dinner, of course,” the old man answered. “If you accept game gold, we’ll also take a room for three days.”

  “As the gentlemen wish,” it said as the robe covering the robot’s chest swept open and a gleaming, black metal device with two eyepieces slid forward.

  “Look,” Goodwin said, “it’s retina identification, like in a virt-helm. You can pay with Alterran gold since I doubt you have real panbucks.”

  Jack leaned into the eyepieces. Something blinked and a message appeared:

  Identification successful. You have 6952 gold in your account.

  Meanwhile, Goodwin made an order and learned that the room cost a hundred panbucks a day.

  Order accepted. A room for two, three days. Breakfast is included in the price of the room. Please confirm the payment of 1200 gold.

  “You’re going to break me, Goodwin.” Jack pressed the button under the eyepieces, accepting the cost. “Now I’ll have to double up in the game to win back my losses.”

  “You’ll be fine,” the old man assured him. “Play from morning till night if you want, I won’t stop you. Tomorrow morning, I’ll go find out how to improve your chip. So earn some more, Jack. Reality in New Atrium is expensive, but worth it. Get used to living like an alpha.”

  Chapter Nine. Road Through the Past

  JACK LIKED THEIR ROOM on the third floor of the Golden Dragon. It was quiet here. The dim lighting and cushy furnishings helped him relax. Goodwin explained that it was all done in the old style. Nowadays, people in New Atrium lived differently.

  “It’s a good fit for you,” he finished. “You’ll get used to it with time. As for me, I’m going to take a bath. Boy, how long I’ve dreamed of having a bath!”

  Jack explored the room to the sound of Goodwin’s chortling and the splash of water, and found a happy discovery in the form of a bar with several bottles, some of which were filled with whiskey. He poured himself half a glass and walked around the suite. There were only two rooms, neither of which held a virt-capsule. There were TV screens, a music center, even a few printed magazines. Hardly fresh editions. They just put them in the room for flair, to make it look retro.

  “That’s old style for you!” he said, getting comfortable on the sofa. “Paper everywhere, but no virt-capsule.”

  No big deal. He could play with the console for the time being… Jack leaned into the sofa and logged onto virt.

  When he poked his head out of the chapel, everything on the ruined gray street looked the same. That obscure pyramid still loomed in a foreboding mass. Every now and then, he spotted the flash of golden gryphon wings flying around it.

  How was he supposed to handle them? Sure, Jack knew what he was dealing with now and he wouldn’t let them get the better of him. But still… two Harbingers, both level one hundred, not to mention their gryphons... This time he had no partner nearby to at least provide a distraction. Two of these guys were too much for him. If they fell on him together, he wouldn’t stand a chance. How could he separate them? The answer was clear. Give them more targets. Jack dug the goblins out from their box.

  He let the little, green monsters frolic for a moment, then called Hercules over and announced that a great battle lay before them. The goblins started chattering. Jack raised his hand and barked, “Listen to me! Yes, today, victory lies before us and we will cloak ourselves in immortal glory! However, the enemy is strong and you will face the most difficult thing a goblin could possibly imagine. What do you think that is, eh?”

  The little goblins thought it over a moment, then cried out, each fighting to be heard over the others.

  “Burn in dragon flame! Drown in river! Fight troll! Or sorcerer! Spiders! Sphinxes! Flock of hippogryphs!”

  Each time, Jack shook his head with a mournful expression.

  “Worse, even worse than that...

  When his warriors had finally exhausted all their guesses, he explained, “The hardest thing for you will be to follow orders and act according to the plan. I’m afraid you won’t be able to do it.”

  The goblins began shrieking that they were the most obedient, disciplined soldiers in all the world. Jack could only hope that they appreciated the seriousness of the task. He described the battle plan to Hercules, then the whole detachment moved through the ruined city toward the pyramid. Jack, meanwhile, searched for a good spot. Finally, he chose a demolished columned portico, the arch remnants still hanging over it. The arches were large enough to hide under and the space between the columns was too narrow to allow more than one gryphon to attack at a time. Moreover, the piles of stones scattered around would provide excellent shelter for the tiny goblins.

  Jack himself took cover under an arch and the goblins moved forward. Hercules scrambled onto a broken column and began screeching, baring his teeth and hopping. His cries, of course, couldn’t reach the winged riders, but they did notice the twitching figure and began to descend, the gryphons’ wings shimmering gold as they drew loops in the bright blue sky. Jack could already make out their riders and the tridents in their hands.

  Hercules brandished his crossbow at them. Then, just to be sure the Harbingers clearly understood who they were dealing with, he turned and slapped his bony, green ass. The golden riders accelerated and rushed at the column, where the goblin wriggled and screeched. Not waiting for them to converge, the goblin hopped off the column, slid down a pile of debris and dove under the shelter of a stone pile. His four brethren popped out and fired at the advancing adversaries. Admittedly, they couldn’t do much damage against the powerful, god-like Harbingers, plus Jack had ordered them only to catch their eye. They did attract the enemies’ attention, that was for sure. Hot, white beams from the sky struck and skittered over the rocks, but the goblins were already hidden away.

  The pair of gold gryphons circled over the labyrinth of broken columns, the beams of light they issued striking again and again. Each one, however, missed the goblins, who would take a shot and hide, only to emerge from a new spot and fire another arrow. The diminutive crossbowmen were running from place to place under the cover of the stones and crawling into narrow cracks… wherever the shots of light could not reach them. The Harbingers circled in the sky over the gray stone deposits, moving every farther away from one another.

  The goblins acted shrewdly and kept strictly to the plan to lead the riders away. Trying to get ahead of the nimble little marksmen and catch them before they ducked into a narrow crevice, the Harbingers tightened their circles overhead. As they did so, they split up – one to the right of the portico, the other to the left. The goblins had driven the Harbingers along the rows of columns toward the center. Namely, exactly toward the spot where Jack was hiding. The gold gryphons were flying quite low and were no longer circling, now tearing erratically over the debris deposits. The riders could hardly see one another, except on the occasions when they flew on opposite sides of the same arch.

  Jack grinned. His speech to the little goblins hadn’t been in vain, after all. Everything was going according to plan. The gryphons were zipping back and forth. Occasionally, a goblin would emerge from under a stone, release an arrow, and take cover again before a blinding beam from a Harbinger trident struck the spot where a grinning green mug had just been. They were drawing closer and closer to his hiding place. Jack chose the moment when the riders to the left and right disappeared from sight, then quickly clambered up onto a pocked column in the shadow of an arch. He clung to a stone ledge with his left hand and drew his sword with his right. It was wonderful to feel strong and agile again! There wasn’t even a trace left of his recent malady. The Genotech Company had fixed everything, no question.

  A few effortless strokes of the blade, and the darkness under the arch thickened. Jack hid in the shadows, splayed and pressed against the stone.

  Looks like it’s time, he thought. The Harbingers were close now, their light beams visible even through the veil of darkness created by the black sword. As if in answer to his thoughts, goblins on either side of the colonnade cried out sharply. If they were still sticking to the plan, that squeal meant the gryphon riders had descended, that they couldn’t see each other, and that Hercules’ green brethren were purposefully appearing in the Harbingers’ sights, finally able to catch their elusive enemy. An enemy which, naturally, was scared as hell and whose legs hightailed it under the arch.

  Your dark servant has died!

  Dammit. So, one of his goblins bought it… Jack began moving his right arm more vigorously, creating a cloud of pitch darkness around himself. Waves of darkness crept down and outward. A whirlwind mass of gold-cloaked, flapping wings crashed into the cloud. The two Harbingers broke through simultaneously as they pursued the goblins between the columns. Jack squinted, but the blaze from their collision was bright enough to see the flare even through his clamped eyelids. There was deafening roar beneath him and Jack leaped onto the golden glow floundering on the rocks below, howling and snarling.

  In the few heartbeats he spent airborne, he clicked all his available skills indiscriminately, invoking Sprint, Berserk, Furious Strike and even a skill that was absolutely unnecessary for the situation, Tireless Wanderer.

  Something jerked lithely underfoot, snapped and rolled to the side. Jack, spinning amidst beating gryphon wings and alien bodies, scored with the sword. He screwed up his eyes and hacked, not bothering to look. Anything that fell under the blade of the Shadow of the King certainly must be an enemy. He couldn’t feel his injuries, thanks to Berserk, so he rushed to inflict as much damage as possible while it was still active and stopped only when he heard Hercules’ victorious squeal.

  Jack opened his eyes. At first, he could barely see a thing. For one, the darkness created by the Shadow of the King still hadn’t dissipated and for another, messages were flashing before his eyes:

  You receive damage!

  You lose 3 hit points!

  You receive damage!

  You lose 3 hit points!

  You receive damage!

  You lose 4 hit points!

  Your dark servant has died!

  You receive damage!

  You lose 3 hit points!

  You receive damage!

  You lose 4 hit points!

  You receive damage!

  You lose 6 hit points!

  …

  Berserk had expired and all the blows he’d let pass made themselves known. It was okay. He still had a quarter of his health left.

  Hmm, that had worked out well. I’m a great commander, Jack thought. Great success with minimal losses. Judging by his injuries, he’d mostly been struck by the chaotic flapping of the gryphons’ wings and the Harbingers, in the darkness and turmoil, had crushed one another more than anyone else.

  …

  You receive damage!

  You lose 3 hit points!

  You receive damage!

  You lose 4 hit points!

  Attention! You won a battle against two Divine Entities, the Harbingers of Victorious Ged.

  You receive 1 XP.

  You have 56 XP.

  Earn 4 XP to unlock new skills.

  Well, he’d figured as much. The Harbingers had cut each other down in the confusion, and Jack did nothing but “win a battle”. When he fought Askaton, he’d “defeated” him. Okay, whatever. Ged had a full stable of Harbingers to defeat.

  When his vision cleared, Jack saw his battered troops. The trio of surviving goblins were tearing a Harbinger Helm from the others’ paws, huffing angrily and screwing up their muzzles. He was just about to announce that he needed all the loot when Hercules emerged as the victor of their skirmish. With a powerful heave, he yanked the item from his brothers, who toppled onto the rocks scattered amongst the drop. Made sense. Hercules was their leader and had picked up XP faster than the rest. He was already level twelve.

  Giving his defeated opponents a toothy smile, the goblin leader shuffled over to Jack and offered the Helm with a bow.

  “My master! A beautiful thing! For you!”

  It was enough to bring a tear to his eye. The goblins had been fighting for the right to bring the loot to their master. Whatever one might say about them, these NPCs had shown far more loyalty and devotion than most of Jack’s actual friends, and were vastly more deserving of his goodwill.

  “Great, Hercules,” Jack said. “But I have a better idea. You’ll be my Harbinger, okay? This is the Helm of a Harbinger, so here you go.”

  With that, he clapped the Helm on his ugly, green head. The Helm sat broadly on him, so much so that only his warty nose poked out from under it and his eyes shone somewhere deep inside.

  Hercules gave a choked gasp. A bright light flared above the Helm, spread over the NPC’s tiny body and enveloped him in a golden glow. When it faded, Jack was surprised to find a caption in turquoise letters had popped up over his faithful Hercules’ head:

  Hercules, Goblin

  Dark Harbinger of Necta’s Servant

  Health: 35

  Expertise: 22

  Hercules proudly squared his shoulders, which looked like they’d grown twice as wide. Even his height had noticeably increased, too. After his transformation, to name a few details, his slouch disappeared, the muscles underneath his green skin had become apparent and, instead of rags, Hercules now wore rusty, abraded chainmail armor made from burnished steel. Golden lights ran across the remaining goblins, their bodies morphing slightly their stat windows flashing. Each received plus twenty to health and ten experience. Hercules, who had been progressing more quickly and had reached level twelve, was now level twenty-two. The others had been between seven and ten, but were now between seventeen and twenty. The band of little, green, warty goblins had transformed into a squad of undersized soldiers, still comical, but much more menacing now. They now all sported increased stats and new gear – chainmail and steel helmets.

  Surely, there had to be other changes that Jack should learn about, but he had more pressing mysteries at the moment. He could make out a voice emanating from reality and ordered the growing goblins back into the box. Their master was content, but he simply had no time. He was all the more pleased that this turned out to be a good drop. There was even a fully intact Trident of Light, and a bunch of gold gear from the Harbingers’ equipment. Egghead’s work was just piling up! That would come later. First, he needed to investigate this pyramid that the finger of the little man in Theokrist’s Compass had been doggedly pointing him toward.

 

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