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My awakening, or whatever you might call it, was instant. One moment I was standing in the middle of the mining village, then I pressed Confirm Log Out and here I was, stirring in the plum jelly like a beetle in a jam jar.
The lid of my “coffin” was already open. My vision was blurred, as if underwater. But of course! This was my bad eyesight coming back. I’d been so busy in the game I hadn't even noticed that I could see perfectly well.
My body shuddered as the real world flooded over me.
A dull throbbing in my temples came first. My blood pressure was off the scale—and I'd left the pills in the rented apartment that morning. Never mind, there's nothing a hot shower can't fix. It had always worked for me before.
Gradually, the pain began to subside but it was still there. I clambered out of the capsule. My poor legs! What had those people been doing to my body while I was playing? Had they sent it to unload cement trucks? I'd been told it might feel bad but I hadn't expected it to be so freakin' awful!
How long might I last like this? No, no, thinking like that wasn't going to help anything! I had to last—as long as was necessary!
I felt at least five years older. My joints ached, my muscles felt leaden. My head was splitting, my eyesight was failing and my hands shook. I could clearly hear my heart beating.
Someone supported me by the elbows.
“Ah, you’ve come round?” I saw my brother's blurred smiling face. “Welcome back!”
* * *
A SOFT CHAIR HUGGED my body. A cup of hot strong tea; a warm blanket wrapped around my legs. My brother's office was cozy and quiet. Night had fallen behind the window. I hadn't even noticed the day go by.
“Feeling better?” Dmitry was sitting opposite, nursing an identical tea cup.
“Sort of,” I croaked. “But I feel like I've been through the mangle.”
“Nice simile. You did well calling it short.”
“It was a tip from some good peop- er, good Horruds.”
“Who did you join?”
“Some dude called Lord Shantar.”
“Good,” he nodded. “You'll have a fixed wage and will be able to pay off your loan just nicely.”
“I’ve chosen piecework plus extracted value.”
He choked on his tea. “Are you mad? You won't survive this week! Everybody knows how poor his mines are. It's basically just refuse rock they sell on an industrial scale. I'm sure the bank will bring your loan amount down now...”
“You didn't tell me that,” I whispered. “You didn't tell me lots of things.”
Was it my imagination or had he really shrunk under my gaze?
“Listen,” I began. “My wife and I really appreciate what you've done for us. You're literally bringing our daughter back from the grave. This is your game and your money. I'll never be able to repay you. We may be half-brothers but we are basically strangers. You don't owe me anything but still you're helping me. The only excuse I have is the fact that I met you so late. Then there was Christina's illness... even though it was my responsibility as your elder brother to call you and stay in touch. I'm very sorry about it. But Dmitry, you shouldn't have done it the way you did. You just threw me in at the deep end, as if you wanted to see whether I'd sink or swim. Like a blind kitten, you know. I understand all this about the company's policy but Dmitry, this isn't the right way to do these things, is it? I've been in many European countries where I'm pretty sure your company has its fair share of terminals too, but somehow I don't think they treat their clients the same way. All I've heard was some vague hints, like don't worry, you'll soon find out, and a few very economical pieces of advice. Is this your company policy or our traditional Russian recklessness? Don't forget I'm a total noob as someone's already called me!”
“That's exactly what you are,” Dmitry answered calmly.
I choked on my soliloquy and stared at him.
“Why do you think I took you to Zoriana? What were you doing in that test module all that time, tell me? Did you read the game's story? Did you peruse the in-game news? No good blaming me for not taking it seriously. A newb is all well and good but how was I supposed to know you were completely virgin? Apparently, you don't even watch TV or check online news! Our ads take up more TV time than women’s tampons! As you've just said, this isn't the right way to do these things.”
A long silence hung in the air. Finally I took in a deep breath, wishing to speak first. However, he beat me to it.
“Never mind,” Dmitry said. “We're both to blame, probably. We can't undo it. Drink your tea. Try to get some rest. You can sleep here. This chair is convertible. You can't go anywhere in that state. I've already ordered you a dinner from the Ukrainian restaurant. Nothing like a bowlful of Ukrainian borsch to cheer one up! You'll chase it down with some smoked lard on rye bread followed up by a dish of potato dumplings with crackling, then wash it all back down again with some kvass. That'll put you right. Then have some more tea before you go to bed—and tomorrow you won't know yourself!”
He was already reaching for the door when I finally said, “Thanks... brother. I'm sorry.”
“I'm sorry too. Actually, how did you like Mirror World?”
“Honestly? Not special. The real world is better, simply because both my girls are here.”
“You know something? You've no idea how much we have in common.”
He gave me a wink and left.
I attacked my food as if I'd been starving for several days. I could barely remember ever having this kind of appetite. Finally I sat back, feeling drowsy. No, wait. First I had to give Sveta a ring. She was awake, anyway, listening to little Christina's heart.
“How are you, sweetheart?” her anxious voice demanded.
I grinned into the receiver. “I’ll live.”
“I've checked a few sites and forums. There're lots of pictures there. Is it as real as they say it is?”
“You can't even imagine. You're much smarter than I am, by the way. I haven't even thought of looking it up. I might do some browsing now before going to bed.”
“Please take good care of yourself,” her voice quivered. “People say lots of things.”
“I've already worked that out. Something is rotten in the state of Denmark.”
“They say you need to eat a lot when you log out.”
“I've just wolfed down three times my usual portion—and I think I'm hungry again.”
“Please don't! I'm telling you that as a doctor! You'll be sick!”
“It's all right, don't worry. I'll grin and bear it. How's our Little Rabbit?”
“She's still the same,” she said softly.
“It's going to be all right, sweet, I assure you. Tomorrow first thing I'm going to the bank to sign for the loan. Dmitry is topping it up so they can start growing our baby's little heart. She'll make it, I know it.”
She gave a sob. “It feels as if I'm losing both of you.”
“What are you saying, babe? You know I'm strong. I only look like a wuss.”
“I know... that's why I'm worried. You might overdo it. I know you. When it's for us, you'll do anything.”
We talked for a long time—crying, laughing and dreaming. Finally, Sveta cut it short and demanded I hang up, making me promise I wouldn't stay up too late with the computer.
The Internet, indeed, was packed with the information about the game. Everything you needed, it was there. Players' blogs bursting with pictures, clan sites, employment sites and forums... I found the official Stonefoot Clan's site. Indeed, they had no vacancies; a small announcement promised potential openings next year. A whole year! This was a huge amount of time in gaming terms. Would the game even be here in a year's time?
Never mind. As I looked up my employer's site, I was chewing on the last slice of rye bread. Waste not, want not. But when I opened the biography of Lord Shantar, I very nearly choked on my fare. This Lord Shantar was none other than my very own bank manager friend Mr. Shantarsky! That's what had been giving me this constant déjà vu feeling all day.
All right. So that's what it was, then. I didn't even know what I was supposed to feel about it. The next morning I'd have to raise the subject in the bank. I was dying to call my wife but stopped myself.
Dmitry must have known all along. But he'd said nothing to me, the fox. Never mind.
I went on reading. Lord Shantar, level 210. When did the guy find the time to play? A member of the Gold Guild clan which in turn made part of the Alliance of Light—was in its top 10, in fact. They looked like serious people. Apparently, the game was divided into the two sides of Light and Darkness respectively, constantly feuding with each other. Not that it had anything to do with me: I was a humble level-0 Grinder.
So I gave that bit of info a miss. I couldn’t care less about their petty clan wars.
The game's official site informed everyone of the beta testing of their water world. According to the news, it had been successfully tested on several local servers with a preliminary release date in roughly three months' time. Nice job. Those game developers didn’t rest on their laurels.
From there, I switched to studying the various stats: professions, gear and point distribution.
Apparently, I'd done rather well on my first day in the game. Some had it much worse. I read in a blog about an Italian, a total newb like myself, who'd managed to splurge all his points on Strength—naturally, completely immobilizing himself. After having sat still for two hours, he'd been forced to reset his characteristics, losing 20% in the process.
A chill ran down my spine. I wouldn't have liked to have been in his shoes, that's for sure.
I also found out that the few lucky ones who'd managed to reach level 3 in farming—which seemed virtually impossible doing standard mining—received access to a second profession: a crafting one. Its choice depended on one's racial characteristics. In other words, I wouldn't be able to choose freely anymore: I had to accept what I was offered. According to the bloggers, this second profession was akin to a ticket to heaven. It took a lot of elbow grease, but in another year or two such a hard-working bastard could afford a Silver plan, no less.
I whistled with surprise. My hands shook as I entered my race in the search box. Right...
Excuse me? No results found? None at all? I checked the connection. It was working. What was wrong, then?
I entered the word into the advanced search. Aha! One of the forums seemed to have the search term mentioned in a dialogue—the whole two lines of it. A certain MedVed was writing,
Hi all,
Checked the admins site today. They've introduced this new race, the Ennan. I mean, WTF? What's wrong with all the dwarves and other underground midgets? Nothing about their abilities anywhere. Just another stupid beta they'll have to delete after a while.
A certain Ginger Dwarfa answered,
Who are you calling midgets, jerk?
That was about it. I stared at their brief teenage squabble trying to work out what was going on.
I did another check, just in case, of some of the biggest and most influential sites and forums. Nothing.
That was a let-down! Did that mean I'd chosen a non-existent race? How on earth had I managed to do that? I'd already spent half a day playing it!
Finally I located the info that comforted me somewhat. Apparently, the game included lots of races that hadn't become part of it. That didn't mean anything. Quite a few players were happy about it. Choosing one of the so-called “dead races” was even trendy in a way. But being a single player of some esoteric dead race was admittedly weird.
As I fell asleep, I kept thinking about my wife and daughter. Strangely enough, I was looking forward to the next morning. The Ennan's gloomy glare puzzled me. What kind of beast are you? How am I supposed to level you? You don't even have a simple manual, let alone a guidebook.
I'd managed to stake everything on a dark horse. Just my luck.