The Lag Read online

  "Listen," Attila went on. "You've got an awful lot of gear here. Can I borrow me a knife? You can add it to the bill if you want."

  "Oh right," she perked up. "The Storm should be over by now. The bank should be working. You can transfer the money now. A hunting knife you can buy, why not. It'll be ten gold."

  He couldn't believe it. "You don't want much, do you? I can buy one in a shop for three gold!"

  "So go to the shop, then."

  Seething with indignation, Attila turned his back to her. He paused in front of the Magneto spitting bolts of lightning, then mustered up some courage and stepped into it.

  Reality blinked. His legs gave under him.

  Attila found himself standing on Gamekeeper's doorstep. That was better. He'd have hated to climb that chimney again.

  The five legionnaires lay sprawled in the grass next to the hut: some face up, others face down. Attila raised an inquiring eyebrow. Now why hadn't their bodies disappeared? Curiouser and curiouser.

  He walked over and poked one of the bodies with his boot, turning it onto its back. The guy was as dead as a dodo.

  The air popped in the doorway behind him, releasing Yanna enshrouded by blue lightning. She leaped forward and grabbed his shoulder. "Where d'you think you're going? You're not gonna leg it, you sly bastard!"

  Attila shrugged her hand off. "If I wanted to leg it, I'd have done it back in the hole. Come have a look."

  But she wouldn't have any of it. "Something tells me that's what you're doing! Trying to rip me off! In any case, what are you doing here in the open? The ghoul respawns in no time. Where is he? We'll have to kill him again now. Hey... what's this?" she finally noticed the dead legionnaires.

  Attila sensed greed rising inside him. He bent over the body. A scabbarded bastard sword; a dagger with a magic stone set into its hilt; and what was that? An elixir, excellent. Shame the legionnaire didn't have any more of them.

  "You can keep your overpriced penknife," he mumbled as he picked up the player's belt and put it around his own waist, sword and all.

  "Looting, are we?" Yanna quipped. "No, wait! They must have some legionnaire's cheats on them," she bent over another body. "I just don't understand why their avatars didn't disappear. Normally, loot is left over. There should be nothing but loot lying here."

  "How do I know? Better, anyway. This way we don't need to check the grass for their stuff."

  He opened a legionnaire's bag, found nothing of interest and moved on to the next body, casting jealous glances at the girl. Trust her to collect more loot than he did.

  A couple of magic charms; another knife, another sword. Shame he couldn't take it all with him. Too heavy without a weight-reducing artifact. By the same token, he could go to the lake and look for a Crusher: Storms caused them to erupt all over the place like spots on a teenager's face. If he managed to disable it and extract the AntiGravity artifact, then find another Catapult somewhere in the vicinity...

  He forgot about all this when his gaze chanced on the wide belt of the third legionnaire — a sergeant, judging by the stripes on his sleeve. A dedicated four-slot cheat bag dangled from his belt. Just what the doctor ordered!

  It was a good job he'd been the one to have noticed it first. He slung the belt over his shoulder: this wasn't the time or place to study its contents.

  He wondered if the legionnaire had a weight-reducing artifact. It could considerably ease his load, depending on its level and charge. But even if he hadn't, it was still a very good find.

  Attila grinned and stood up, facing an arrow head pointing at his face.

  He grabbed at his sword. "What d'you think you're doing?"

  "Freeze!" she commanded.

  "Why? Are you all right?"

  "No, I'm not all right! I won't till you pay me! You think I can't see you're just waiting for me to turn my back?"

  "Jesus Christ, woman! Who have you been dealing with? Can't you trust anyone for a change?"

  "Trust? Who, a hacker?"

  "Why not? I may not be a hundred percent honest but at least I'm correct. See the difference?"

  "Very well, Mr. Correct. Out with your Book and out with my money."

  He reached into his pocket for the Book. "You're something, you. Give me the account number again," he shook the Book, then tapped it against his hand. "Nope. Won't work."

  "What?" the bow in the girl's hands quivered, so angry she was. "Quit playing me!"

  Attila stepped toward her, the arrowhead nearly stabbing his forehead. "Here, have a look if you don't believe me," he drew the bow aside and brought his Book right up to her pretty little nose. "Let's open our eyes wide and look carefully!"

  The framed screen flickered, rippled with interference. Not any old interference, either: it looked like some kaleidoscope gone mad. Attila tried to access the map. No way. He started a couple of programs which failed to open, too. Nothing worked.

  He looked up at the girl. She stood motionless, the bow lowered in her hands. She definitely looked scared.

  He felt uneasy. Apparently, it wasn't just the portal that had packed up. Everything had: the chat, system messages, the PM box and the navigation. And the bank! Gryad wasn't some small corner shop, oh no: it had the budget of a small African country. They should have fixed the bank already, surely?

  "Listen," Yanna said, mulling over something. "This doesn't look good," she removed the arrow from her bow. "The portals and all. We must try the emergency logout and-"

  She didn't finish. Both heard screams coming from behind the Crooked Lake.

  "What kind of day is this!" Attila grabbed his sword.

  They ran toward the noise. Something had changed around them; the place didn't feel the same. There were no distinct changes: they seemed to be spread thinly over the entire world. A bit like a morning mist: it made your clothes all wet even though it wasn't raining.

  Attila wished he could stop and concentrate on his surroundings, listening in to the weird sensations. That might suggest an explanation of this hunch that everything just wasn't right.

  They were finally back by the lake, next to the stone pipe where the murky swill splashed against the rusty grating. Someone was moving and groaning in the bulrushes by the sewer. A burly Pioneer stood up on one knee with his back to Attila. He wore a round helmet, a mace slung across his back.

  Cautiously Attila walked around him and peeked at the bearded blue face behind the visor. A half-orc. This was Beast!

  Beast sniffed heavily. He stretched his arms out in front of him just like he'd done earlier when casting fireballs. A dozen feet away from the shore, the lake bubbled, its murky water rippling. The ghoul resurfaced by the pipe and shook his head free of algae. His enormous mouth was fringed with horned spikes.

  Attila stepped back. His shoulder brushed Yanna who'd stopped behind him. Without saying a word, she raised her bow.

  He couldn't believe the speed at which she loosed off arrows. Snap, snap, snap, twin arrows kept piercing the mob's hide.

  Gryad had two types of mobs: mutants and monsters. Mutants were more or less humanoid; some even boasted some rudimentary intelligence, like this ghoul or a harpy. This category also included giants, zombies and some of the undead such as walking skeletons and liches. Monsters were mainly of magical nature: sniffer wolves, chimeras, armadillos, sabretooths, basilisks, winged inches and many-headed hydras.

  Beast turned round for a look. Seeing her, he ducked down face to the ground. But instead of fleeing for dear life the ghoul charged at them, pin-cushioned with arrows. Raising a cascade of murky water, the creature rushed onto the shore and came directly for them. Arrows kept thumping against his skin but he couldn't care less.

  Halfway to them the ghoul's shape began to fade, his outline dissolving in the air, droplets of blood splattering everywhere.

  "Sturdy as hell," Yanna commented as she reached for two more arrows. "Come on, Blue, smoke him!"

  "I can't!" a desperate Beast raised his head and tried to crawl a
long the bank. "I'm all empty!"

  The monster had enough arrows in it to kill a platoon and still he wouldn't stop. Attila spread his legs wide and raised his sword, preparing to meet the bastard. Luckily, the ghoul had to wade through a lot of water on his way which slowed his progress down.

  A dozen feet away from them, the ghoul slowed down. His arrow-studded body began gaining color. He collapsed to his knees and dropped face down.

  Beast had already made it to the safety of bulrushes. He sat up, tensing, then sprang to his feet. Only now had Attila realized that there was someone else hiding in the reeds next to the sewer. He could hear whimpering and the sound of a body thudding down like someone trying to scramble to their feet.

  Beast cast them a warning glare, then headed for the sewer. Attila and Yanna hurried to join him.

  A newbie Pioneer lay behind the sewage pipe, clad in cheap generic gear. His bloodied Adam's apple twitched. His neck was covered in dark marks where the ghoul's facial spikes had dug into his skin. The front of his jacket was ripped open. His right hand was mauled, red stumps remaining where fingers should have been.

  He was sniveling and twitching his legs. His eyes rolled; he wheezed. Beast crouched next to him and reached into his bag for his own Book. It looked weird: thin but extraordinarily large. You could see straight away this was a custom-made model with lots of options unavailable to regular players. Mouthing something, Beast began turning the crystal knobs, all eight of them.

  Attila and Yanna exchanged meaningful glances. She sneaked closer to him and nodded at Beast,

  "Why is he so interested in him? The guy's a newb!"

  Attila shrugged. He held on to his sword just in case. The wounded player's wheezing grew louder.

  "He's toast," the girl said. "No way we can help him."

  "It hurts!" the boy whimpered. "Help me! Please!"

  "He's too young," Attila said. "What a shame. How old are you, man?"

  The boy sniffled one last time and froze.

  Beast cussed, still spinning the crystal knobs. He laid the Book on the ground and stared in front of him. "This one's gone, too," he murmured.

  Yanna walked over to him and shoved him in the shoulder. "What's all with all this? What d'you mean? The guy is a kid. He logged out, that's all."

  Beast cast a desperate look around him. "Methinks he died for real," he said. "They all did."

  "For real?" Attila smirked. "Yeah, right. Pull the other one."

  "Shut up!" Beast sprang back to his feet, his fists clenched.

  Yanna jumped up and whipped out her bow, taking aim.

  "Put it down!" Beast yelled. "Don't shoot! You idiot! Don't you understand we can't log out? The portals have stopped working!"

  "They have," Attila nodded, lowering his sword. "At least one that I know of. So the other ones have packed up too, then? That's one hell of a glitch you're having here. So what else do you know?"

  "I, that is us," Beast hurried to shove the Book down his bag, "those you saw me with, I mean... I really don't know what happened! So we were caught in the Storm. I have this top level spell," he knocked on his helmet, "the Dome of Goodness. It must have protected me. And the others... why are their avatars still here? They shouldn't be! Oh man, you should have heard them scream as they died. I nearly dropped dead myself just listening to it. It was as if they died for real. In real life, you understand?"

  "Please," Yanna frowned. "How can you be sure that someone died in real life? You can't. Okay, so their avatars failed to disappear. It's probably a glitch. Sorry man, but I don't buy it. Show me the facts."

  "I don't have the facts," Beast's shoulders hunched up as he stared at the dead player. "But if you saw them wriggle when the Storm caught up with us... It was as if their brains were sliced open in real life. This one doesn't disappear, either. Can you tell me why the chat's not working? We can always use our Books to contact other legionnaires and our real-life controllers in their offices. Even the HQ if we want to. But they're all unavailable now. Why?"

  "You're right," Attila said. "The bank doesn't work, either. The portals are gone and communications have packed up," he shrugged. "Weird. But still it doesn't mean-"

  "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 t
heir 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

  "That 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."