– What are you doing? – I asked in shock.
– Trying to save you from debtor's prison, – replied Maniac deleting programs, – 'Warlock' was rehabilitated: a clean, not spreading virus, never damaging data. Allowed to use in virtuality. Allowed to be used at one's own risk…
My computer have lost a couple more files. The winged slippers seemed to perish too…
– … But "Labyrinth" and Al-Kabar have hung two and a half million dollars in damages on you.
I even feel joy of such an amount.
– Why not a billion? There's no difference, I won't ever earn this much anyway… and even never steal.
– Sure… it might have been billion… – agreed Maniac jerking the mouse across the mousepad, – When did you clean the mouse last time? Now, listen here. Gunslinger is no more, and never existed – on your machine. Insert a different personality in the seventh position. If possible, provide alibi… How did you manage to get them so, Len'ka?
– I've dragged one guy right from under their grasps… Saved.
– That's good of course…
Maniac have stuffed a diskette into the drive, started some program from it.
– Now we'll clean your winchesters so well, there'll be no trace even on the physical level. – he threatened, – Or, even better, just sell these and buy new ones. Or throw them into the Neva river from the bridge.
I felt discomfort. Maniac would never panic without a reason.
– Got some vodka?
– Cognac…
– Not so good, but will do, – he frowned.
I gave him the bottle, ready for Shurka to pour an alcohol into computer guts, for the complete guarantee of success… But he took a mouthful himself, then extracted the ball from the mouse, breathed on it, rubbed it against his sleeve and put it back. Then he informed:
– We'll commemorate the sale of three viruses. You advertised 'Warlock' well.
– Shur, I need to go back…
– Gee, you can't be serious, diver! – laughed Maniac without turning around, – You must hide now!
– I can't. Impossible.
He just shrugged and advised:
– Sell your winchesters anyway.
– I was going to upgrade the whole thing…
– Really? Well, so go ahead and sell it with all its guts. Or donate it to some kids' club. You won't earn much for this piece of crap, while kiddies will kick it to death in a week, nobody will be able to restore it.
Remembering the robbed hobbit I nodded uncertainly.
Maybe I really should rejoice the young generation with an old comp?
And just how proud I was when I bought it… Pentium! Two megs of video memory! Sixteen megs of RAM!
– How can you live with this video card? – replied Shurka to my memoirs, – Shit, it even doesn't receive TV?!
For around five next minutes I was lectured about cutting edge technologies in hardware. Then Maniac sent me to cook breakfast and went on with cleaning my machine.
I was cooking scrambled eggs – maybe 10000th portion of it in my life. It's high time to invent single's anniversaries: 1000th tin of canned stuff, 100000th loaf of bread eaten dry…
– Shurka, I only have two and a half hours! – I shouted from the kitchen, – Then I have to work!
– You'll not be late…
– I also still need to draw the new personality!
– Which one?
– A fairy tale one. An Elf or a Dwarf… No, an Elf is better. The Dwarf will be beaten immediately.
– Since when are you befriended with role-players?
– It's a work., – I said setting the pan by the keyboard, – I need to take a walk in their server.
– Lord, what can you steal there?! They are all beggarly! – Maniac shook his head, – Brrr… Texts of Elvish anthems? The secrets of wooden swords' manufacturing?
– No, I… forgot one thingy there.
– Ah… – Maniac nodded. Maybe he thought that 'Warlock' had gnawed the exit into the role-playing server directly. – Just don't hurt them, okay? They are funny folks, I wandered into those places a couple of times…
– You set up security for them?
– Me? For them? Come on, there's plenty of their own specialists! – Shurka waved his hand, – There's lots of cool programmers.
I didn't like this news.
– Well, tell me at least what 'Warlock' looked like in action?
– Well… a blue crater, sparks and mirrors under my feet with reflections of other servers in them.
Maniac raised his head:
– Wasn't there an elevator? – he asked in confusion.
– Come on, what elevator?! Just a hole in the floor…
– It's always like this, you invent something and it turns out like…
– growled Shurka, – Shit. Do you have cognac only?
We poured in a little, touched cups and drank. Shurka's programs were still 'rustling' inside my machine.
– I've tried it yesterday… that rhyme… – said Maniac after the second cup, – That "abyss-abyss" one…
I didn't ask him about results. If Maniac could manage to exit the Deep, this would be what we are drinking for now.
– Lenia, if you ever find out why it happens… – began Shurka.
– I'll tell you immediately.
– Geez, and what a mess was it in one brothel yesterday… – Maniac changed the topic. – Haven't you heard in the Net news?
I even felt confused.
– No…
– Some punks attempted to break the security of "Any Amusements" brothel. There is one with this name… – Maniac half closed his eyes in a sweet and delighted expression.
– They attempted?
– Well, they almost broke it but then their security have just cut off all channels completely. That fight was worth seeing if Zuko doesn't tell the bull.
– Who?
Obviously the expression on my face became too stupid. Shurka gazed at me, then said quietly:
– A-ha… I see.
– You know Zuko? Computer Wiz?
– Don't you tell me you don't know him.
– Only in the Deep, – I don't attempt to lie.
Shurka shook his head.
– You think so? It's Sergey… the one who worked in the bank.
Uh-oh, what a news.
I know Sergey for ages. When I was working in that computer games company, he was working there too, but I felt it absolutely impossible to correlate the ever silent and phlegmatical programmer with the noisy Computer Wiz.
– It's him?!
– Yup.
– Gosh, what a disguise… – I was only able to say.
– Well, just imagine if he would confess that he works for a brothel! Isn't it a great topic for jokes? He still keeps everybody believing that he botches proggys for that bank…
– Don't tell him that me is me, – I asked quickly.
– I won't. He didn't tell me any details either. Just questioned me about 'Warlock'.
– Zuko recognized your virus! – I exclaimed remembering Wiz's joy.
– Well, yeah, I showed him around a month ago… – Shurka narrowed his eyes, – Secrecy, damn it…
– Can he tell anybody?
Maniac shook his head.
– Not this is the real problem Lenia. Information has a property to slip away. Some stupid little blunders and coincidences like this one… They'll find you.
– Let them try to prove!
– Lenia… if you really did stomp on their tails so hard, they won't bother to prove anything. All of us are tied too closely. Somebody knows that Gunslinger and Leonid is the same guy. Somebody suspects that Leonid is diver. Somebody guesses that Leonid is Russian. Virtuality is living by information, by truth, rumors, guesses. And the most important thing is that any information can be easily gathered and analyzed. If to try really hard, one can learn everything!