This Virtual Night (The Outworlds series, Band 2) - Hardcover

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

An acknowledged master of dark fantasy and science fiction alike, C.S. Friedman is a John W. Campbell award finalist, and the author of the highly acclaimed Coldfire trilogy, New York Times Notable Book of the Year This Alien Shore, In Conquest Born, The Madness Season, The Wilding, The Magister Trilogy, and the Dreamwalker series. Friedman worked for twenty years as a professional costume designer, but retired from that career in 1996 to focus on her writing. She lives in Virginia, and can be contacted via her website, www.csfriedman.com.

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HARMONY NODE

HARMONY STATION

The dragons were out in force tonight.

Ramiro tried to keep to shadows as he moved, but the narrow stone corridor didn't offer a lot of cover, and the flickering light from torches set high on the walls kept shadows constantly moving. Which meant that the evasive maneuvers they'd used to avoid the Citadel's reptilian guards aboveground wouldn't work here. If any dragons crossed their path while they were down in the labyrinth, the two of them were done for.

"Should be coming up soon," Van whispered nervously. He glanced down at the crumpled parchment map in his hand. "Any minute now."

You've been saying that for an hour, Ramiro thought.

The labyrinth was ancient, a maze of tunnels whose masonry had been degraded by centuries of rainwater seeping from above; the floor was littered with fragments of fallen brick, making walking treacherous. As they picked their way carefully over the rubble, Ramiro was acutely aware of the tons of earth poised overhead, held at bay by nothing more than rotting mortar and a prayer. How does the gaming program do that? he wondered. The virt software that was controlling his sensory input could add anything to the environment that a person could touch, taste, hear, or see, but what physical experience conjured such a sense of claustrophobia? What tangible sensations translated into dread?

God, he thought, I love Dobson games.

"You okay?" Van put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. Ramiro could feel his friend's fingers trembling, though whether from excitement or fear it was hard to say. Intellectually a person might understand that a virt couldn't hurt anyone-it only provided the illusion of being hurt-but it was possible for a player to get so wrapped up in the story that he forgot such fine details. The resulting adrenaline rush was very real-as was the pain that the virt would feed into their brainware if they were injured in this fantasy realm. And fear of that was totally rational.

"Yeah," he lied. "Keep going."

They hadn't expected so many dragon guards to be on duty. True, any they ran into down here would likely be in human form-a necessary adaptation within the labyrinth-but that didn't make the creatures any less dangerous. Dragons could breathe fire even when they were transformed, and a fireball in these narrow tunnels was on the list of things Ramiro would like not to run into. But the fact that so many dragons were present confirmed that this place was important, right? That was a good thing.

Suddenly Van grabbed Ramiro's arm, jerking him to a halt. "Incoming," he whispered. Ramiro knew enough to trust his friend's instincts-Van had an almost supernatural ability to anticipate in-game threats-so he looked around for cover. But there was nothing. The tunnel was too narrow, its walls too smooth. If a dragon guard showed up now they were dead.

Then: "There!" Van cried, pointing ahead. Squinting, Ramiro saw nothing at first, but then the flickering shadows seemed to resolve into a deeper black shape on one wall. An opening of some kind? Whatever it was, it was the only option besides standing there and looking stupid. They ran toward it, leather armor creaking and weapons jangling with every step. Ramiro's heart lurched with every sound, but that couldn't be helped. When you were loaded down with this much gear you couldn't run quietly.

Dobson games were great on detail.

The dark space was indeed a crumbling archway. Thank God! Maybe it would lead to a chamber where they could hide, or even better, a side tunnel that would allow them to get the hell out of here. Ramiro skidded on rubble as he tried to make the turn, and he had to grab onto the side of the arch to steady himself. A quick look behind him confirmed that no enemies had shown up yet. Jesus Christ, they might really make it! He turned back to the dark space, wondering what kind of chamber or tunnel they were about to take shelter in-

Only there was no chamber. No tunnel. Just a mound of rubble from floor to ceiling, where the tunnel had collapsed long ago. Despairing, Ramiro knew there was no way the two of them could clear it in time.

Shit.

He could hear footsteps coming from behind them now, chillingly alien in their rhythm. Scritch-scritch-THUMP . . . scritch scritch THUMP. Talons on stone. Heart pounding, he pressed back as far as he could into what little space they had, drawing his short sword as he did so. The weapon had a dragonslayer amulet embedded in the hilt, so in theory he was ready to fight such a creature, but he'd bought the charm from a sorcerer who wasn't exactly reputable, so whether it would work or not was anyone's guess. He wasn't anxious to test it.

Then the dragon came into sight. It was a monstrous, hulking beast-half reptile, half human, and so tall that its crested head scraped against the ceiling as it walked. Its eyes glowed red with demonic power, and Ramiro knew that if a warrior looked into those eyes, or engaged the dragon in any way, he would die, instantly and forever. The concept was terrifying, but it was also a relief; the visceral panic that he'd experienced at the sight of the creature began to subside.

It was an NP, a non-player. Some mundane person had just happened to pass by the place where they were gaming, so the virt had used him as set dressing. The burning red eyes were a warning not to engage with him, since he would not have a clue about what was going on. Ramiro watched, breathing heavily, as the dragon passed by without noticing them. Of course it did. Now that Ramiro had seen its eyes, he would expect it to do nothing else.

That was another thing Ramiro loved about Dobson games. They wove any necessary restrictions right into the narrative, so you could stay immersed in the story. Another virt might have just slapped a cautionary symbol on the hulking figure to warn players to keep away, or maybe rendered it in black and white (an especially tacky solution), but Dobson had turned the warning itself into part of their story, giving them an in-character reason not to engage the creature. Genius.

Of course, that was only necessary because station rules prohibited multi-player virts in public spaces. If you confronted a passing stranger as though he were a dragon he might report you to the authorities, and then you could wind up in serious trouble. Ramiro didn't understand why that was necessary-was anyone really getting hurt?-but for now the prohibition was an inconvenience the gaming industry just had to accommodate.

As soon as the dragon was gone they edged back out into the main tunnel and started forward again. Soon they came to the place where their map said an entrance to the inner labyrinth would be located: the final stage of their journey. The heavy wooden door that barred their way was coated in cave-slime, but they could tell that there were inscribed runes beneath it. As Van used his sleeve to wipe slime away, Ramiro could not help but wonder at how many runes there were. It seemed oddly excessive.

On an impulse, he paused the game program. He wanted to see where they really were.

Stone walls morphed into plasteel panels. Flickering torchlight was replaced by the steady glow of lighting strips. The decaying tunnel was now a service conduit, streamlined and pristine. Wow. No matter how many times he dealt with reality-overlay programs, the suddenness of the transition always shocked him.

"Got it!" Van exclaimed. His mock-medieval garb was gone now, replaced by a gray no-G jumpsuit with many cargo...