The Citadel (Mirror World Book #2) (24 page)

He flashed me a pearly smile. "Compared to them, Olgerd, you're a seasoned pioneering traveler."

"You flatter me."

"Not at all. These people log in, do their quota and log out. They're protected. They have occasional bonuses, like mopping up instances and such. Lots of other things, too. I assure you that lots of workers of a lower level than you have much better working conditions than you do. Why would they want to move to a nasty, unpredictable location?"

"No reason."

"So what's stopping you, then?"

"Just that you know nothing about me."

"Here's where you're wrong."

Our eyes met. His, the dark Alven grey, exuded a relaxed confidence. Not a grain of sarcasm or disdain. Only a light squint: he's curious to see my reaction. This was one hell of an experienced head hunter. He'd pressed all the right buttons, appealing to my self-preservation skills. He'd given me a brief run-down on how happy other Grinders were in the tender care of his masters. He'd even thrown in a dash of flattery.

"Oh, am I?" I said. "What is it you know about me, then?"

"Heh heh! We know enough to realize how badly we need you."

"And still?"

"Very well. If you insist. You came to Mirror World for a reason."

"You could say that about any of us."

"I could. But you — you have a purpose. Christina, your daughter, is very sick."

I frowned.

"We know," he gave me a calm nod. "She needs expensive surgery. We even know how much it costs. Finding out such things is not a problem for my employers."

My face must have changed because he added even more smugly, "It didn't take our analyst long to work out what keeps you in this God-forsaken hole. Tracking your movements allowed us to conclude you're here to level up Reputation with Mellenville. You need a loan in Reflex Bank. It's a large amount so you need lots of Reputation. I hate to be the bearer of bad news but according to our estimate, you won't make it. And even if by some miracle you do, you still risk a lot."

Oh yes, mister, you know a lot about me. A lot — but not everything.

I attempted to calm myself down, trying hard to disregard the unpleasant chill in my chest and belly. "I see," I forced a smile. "You've worked out my multi-move super plan. There's only one thing I don't understand."

He arched a quizzical eyebrow. "Which is?"

"Why would you invest so much research in a regular Digger? You even had your analysts on me. Strange, don't you think?"

He flashed me a smile. "That would be strange, I agree, provided you described yourself correctly. The thing is, your situation has nothing to do with how you've just described yourself. Don't look at me like that. I haven't come here just to offer a job to an Experienced Digger. I'm here for the actual Master."

Chapter Twenty-One

T
here are moments in life when you just expect something bad to happen. Some might call it a premonition. Oh well. You might say so, I suppose. The word isn't a hundred percent accurate, but it conveys the meaning quite well.

In my case, it wasn't just a premonition. Oh, no. I'd known all along that sooner or later I'd have to suffer through this kind of conversation. That someone was bound to call my bluff. That's why, strangely enough, Tanor's words had brought me an enormous relief. Why, was I so fed up with living undercover? No, not really. It was something else too. But I was still curious what plans they might have in store for me. Had I been right all along?

There was a glint of interest in Tanor's eyes. "You're not really surprised, are you?"

I shrugged. "It's not going to change anything, is it?"

"Olgerd, please. What is it with you? Why all this defeatist talk?"

"It's not. I've long given up looking at the world through rosy-tinted glasses. I always prepare for the worst. It helps to roll with the punches."

"Then I suggest we quit the overtures and speak openly. This would save both of us an awful lot of time."

"Can you speak openly?"

He smiled. "Try me. You think
you
can?"

"I might actually beat around the bush for a wee bit longer but that's because I have a very vague idea of who you actually represent. So much effort invested into wooing even a Master Digger — that's too much, you know."

He clapped his hands. "Bravo! You're full of surprises. I think... No — I'm absolutely sure we'll make a good team."

"Dear Tanor, or whoever you are. Will you please leave all the sales pitch for Mirror World fans? I have other objectives in this game. Massaging my own ego fortunately isn't one of them."

He forced a smirk. "In other words, you don't give a shit that one of the most powerful coalitions in the Glasshouse has sent you a personal head hunter? Hah! Quite a few players would have given a lot for this kind of attention."

"I didn't say I wouldn't."

He snapped his fingers. "I think I know! Correct me if I wrong, please, but had this conversation taken place within your first few weeks into the game... would your reaction have been different then? What do you think?"

"There's nothing to think. It would have been. The problem is, normally a worker is supposed to prove his worth to a potential employer before starting to talk up his price. Am I right?"

"You are indeed. We need professionals. Yes, I can see you disagree. Of course it's a game, of course you're forced to do work you would never have accepted in real life. Things are different here, I agree. A lawyer collects rare herbs, a surgeon farms marble down a mine while a clergyman sneaks out every night to climb into a virtual capsule and head for a far-off instance to kill yet another monster. Mirror World dictates its own rules."

"Meaning, you have to adapt in order to survive?"

"Not exactly."

"How is it, then?"

"
We
don't adapt We make the world adapt We just follow its development."

"I see... if you don't do it, someone else will."

"Of course. It can't be otherwise."

"Probably not, no... not for your type of person."

"What about your type?"

"For my type, things are much simpler in the long run. My goals might seem too boring for the likes of you. A home, a family, a steady life that throws no unpleasant surprises at you."

He shrugged. "To each his own. I'm pretty sure we can manage that."

I was pretty sure they could. Problem was, I wanted to manage my own life. Still, I asked,

"So what do I need to do?"

He nodded his understanding. "We have several suitable scenarios."

"Suitable for whom?"

"Both for you and for us."

"I'm all ears."

He brought his coffee cup to his lips and took a tiny sip. "Allow me to expand on this a little."

"Be my guest."

He gave me a curt nod.

With every word he uttered, I sensed there was more to it. This wasn't about my Master level. There was something else they wanted from me. And I had a funny feeling I knew what it might be.

"As I already said, the game keeps evolving," Tanor was saying. "It has already been through several stages in its development, all equally important for its formation."

"Let me guess. Clan wars?"

"If you wish," he replied. "You got the idea, anyway. All the known territories were carved up. The clans of Light signed a peace agreement which makes our part of the world a relatively quiet place. The Darkies can't say the same, I'm afraid."

"Are they still at war with each other?"

"They are. But everything's relative, according to Einstein. What would have weakened them in the real world, makes them stronger here."

"Sorry, I don't quite understand."

"What's a war? It's primarily human losses. You can't bring your soldiers back to life. Here, the opposite is true. The more battles you fight, the more XP your players get. If you look at the rankings, you'll see that already we're lagging behind the Darkies. This last raid of the Independents has shown everyone how weak we are. They managed to invade our territory with three hundred fighters whose levels averaged 200. If you had told me this was possible a month ago, I'd have never believed you."

"Does that mean that the clans of Light need an internal conflict?"

"That's what we used to think until very recently. Especially seeing as we had plenty of reasons for our own conflict. Too many issues have accumulated over time."

"If you'll excuse me... but doesn't it sound cynical to you?"

He gave me a sarcastic smile. "You think it's any different in the real world?"

I shrugged. I had nothing to say to that.

"The recent announcement of No-Man's Lands available for colonization has shifted our priorities," he continued. "We have to set aside our internal differences. This is the beginning of a long-term confrontation."

"So you think a war is inevitable?"

"Of course," he replied with a smile. "And I assure you that everyone in Mirror World is looking forward to it. The game developers first of all. This sort of war will call for exorbitant resources. Money, workforces, the army... Neither us nor the Darkies are ready for a conflict of this proportion."

"I see. You have your work cut out for you before you can even come to blows. Waging war in No-Man's Lands is no walk in the park."

Shit! I'd put my foot in it, hadn't I?

Tanor's gaze alighted on me, attentive. "You know what? Had it not been so absurd, I might have thought you've already ventured out beyond the Citadel's walls."

I flashed him a naïve smile. "Now that would be a bunch of laughs. With my super pick for a weapon and my armored pants for mob protection."

He grinned. "You would look a sight, you're dead right there," he appeared to be smiling but his eyes remained pensive. "So where was I?"

"The war expenses."

"That's right. You can't even start to imagine the costs. The changes involved — this world hasn't seen anything like it. Which is why we're currently deploying all our resources."

"Including me?"

"Absolutely. First and foremost."

"I already said it looked like too much effort for even a Master player."

"Well, firstly, your progress has been impressively rapid. You promised a certain person you would do that-"

"Ah, so it's Shantarsky..."

He smiled. "And not only him. You were quite naïve if you thought that you could keep your account's true potential under wraps for very long."

"But who, apart from Shantarsky-"

"I assure you that Shantarsky only confirmed what we already knew."

I decided to test the waters. "This is classified information, isn't it?"

He beamed. "Not at all! We don't have any secrets from you. You'd like to know where you made a mistake, wouldn't you? Heh! Very well. It might be useful for you to know that all good clans monitor the progress of all workers who show a certain potential. We received the first signal when you first leveled up. It just happened too quickly."

"Wait a sec..."

"Of course. The Mine Diggers Guild. Did you ever ask yourself why it was manned by players? Shouldn't NPCs be doing this kind of work?"

I remembered the smiley she-dwarf teller in the Guild's locket. How she'd congratulated me on reaching a new skill level... "Aren't you afraid I might file a complaint with the admins for disclosing my personal data?"

"You wouldn't be the first. By the time they get to it, find the culprits and close the case..."

"What do you mean,
close
?"

"Easy. What do you know about the Reflex Corporation?"

"Oh. Not much. I know they own the game."

"Is that it? Know anything of their other business activities?"

"No."

He massaged his chin. "You're a virgin case, aren't you? Then again, why should I be surprised? You didn't have time to frequent forums, did you? You virtually live in the game. So basically, Reflex controls lots of social programs. One of which is called World Without Borders."

I frowned. "I think I heard something about them in the news. Some kind of international program for people with disabilities? What's that got to do with me filing a complaint?"

"Everything. It wasn't just people with disabilities they mentioned on TV, remember? Large families in difficulty, single mothers, senior citizens, orphaned children... now who do you think work as guild clerks? Aha. I can see you understand. Then you need to realize another thing: we're involved in lots of social programs. World Without Borders is only one of them."

"All you want to say is they grass other players up?"

He smiled. "Sort of. I can assure you that our informants sincerely believe they're helping people like you find better employment. So if you begin to protest and file complaints, no one will understand you. The most you might achieve is public condemnation."

I scratched the back of my head. Oh. Surprises never cease.

"Come on," he said happily. "Cheer up. Everything is working out fine, isn't it?"

This I was yet to see. "Did you do a check on my friends too?"

"A very superficial one," he said casually. "Which only confirmed our previous suspicions, albeit indirectly. Your escape from the spider instance was especially amusing. Flint and his men are still trying to work out what happened there. Very clever. My congratulations."

"I see. Then you received another signal from the guild about my upcoming leveling, after which you..."

"We had a brief talk with Shantarsky which made everything perfectly clear. And then you disappeared. You've given our sleuths a run for their money!"

I chuckled. "I can imagine how happy you were to discover the contract I signed with Lady Mel."

He laughed. "You can say that! We'd never have thought of looking for you in the capital, of all places. And then we received the news..."

I closed my eyes and rubbed the bridge of my nose. "I still can't wrap my head around it. The Analytic Department. The sleuths. All for the sake of a Grinder?"

He shrugged. "Why not? You're a Master. My gut feeling tells me that had you had the chance to farm higher-level resources, I'd have been talking to an Expert now. The top office gives the runaround to its workers for much less important cases. You're a Godsend for the clan. Your input will boost the power of many of the clan's top players. Which will result in the clan's growth too."

"I'm sorry. There must be something else to it. Has to be."

His stare leadened. Even the color of his eyes seemed to have darkened. This was the real Tanor: cruel, hard and unsmiling. Something told me this wasn't just a humble head hunter.

"Enough pussyfooting around," he quipped. "We're losing time. You need the money, we need your skills. We can offer you the sum you need and a highly paid job to go with it. Plus a bonus from all the raids and war campaigns."

I nodded. "Generous enough. What do you want in return?"

"To join the clan with all the rights and responsibilities it entails."

"You want to say that the current contract won't cut it?"

"No," he snapped. "We can't take the risk. Too much at stake. We're on the brink of war. We need all the resources we can muster. We can't afford a freelance Expert Digger. Only a clan member. It's much better for you, trust me. A calm location. Excellent weather conditions. Quality gear on the house. Finally, protection."

"What about my responsibilities?"

"Working for the clan."

"Is that all?"