The land was ideal for cavalry maneuvers and for all sorts of traps. Gill imagined the countless battles that took place on the island, staining the beauty of the meadows and tekal woods with sticky blood, the cries of anger and death rattles of those fallen in battle, the stench of the moulans launched in devastating charges, the deadly rain of trilates.75
“The smell of time never disappears. You sink it in the ocean of oblivion and believe it lost forever, only to find it sprouting on the reef of memories,” said the aromary Laixan. Gill’s box of childhood fantasies—the one he thought closed forever after the traumatic passage ritual—opened, and he became a child again…
He felt the recessive memories coming like waves from another life, overwhelming him with their hallucinatory aromas, the game island becoming a bridge between his childhood inhibited by the sex-choosing drug and his current wriggling between the two worlds—without knowing where the border of dreams began.
He didn’t have to be an aromary to find the water of the deep memories that lent him the strength to get there. After all, that’s why he walked through the gates of the Archivists Tower: he loved ancient history, he dreamed its legends countless of times in his childhood days. As an archivist, he would have given anything to play such a game, to live on his tail the stories he imagined so many times…
Unfortunately, he hadn’t found the best time to play. Maybe when the madness ended—assuming the absurd hypothesis that he would be alive that day—he would explore the cloud islands. But then he remembered the ‘kaura’. The vision of his prematurely aged body, emaciated and pierced by feeding tubes, made him feel revulsion against the perverted world of mirages, revulsion for the lure of its fake beauty. He had no need to know it better. He had already seen too much of it!
It seemed that this would be his only game, his last game in the virtual world. He had to play it well, despite that he didn’t know its rules. It would have been useful to inspect his troops to see what forces he had and order them to fortify their positions, but Sandara had asked him to stand still. He regretfully decided to obey her order and stay with the chameleons.
The breeze of the vortex whirled again in the meadow. Soon, a sphere popped out of the hole, and the grah female jumped out of it—this time alone, but much more worried.
“You came back!” he exclaimed, relieved. Then he pointed at the opposite hill. “I saw—”
“They didn’t let me in. Bad tidings are happening,” she said, shaking her head in disbelief. “I left Forbat a message; I hope he gets it quickly.”
His mood instantly sank. He was stuck in Ugo’s trap… Should he tell her he had a way to escape from the jure’s physical prison? The female would become curious as to how he was going to do that… a most dangerous path…
“Can you talk to the other player and explain the accident that got me here?” he insisted.
“No.”
“We have to fight, then! If I disconnect him, I go to Rabinda, right? And I get my portal.”
Sandara didn’t reply to his idea, yet her desperate look seemed to suggest a slight doubt in his plan.
“I thought the grahs aren’t scared that easily.” He couldn’t miss the opportunity to taunt her, but he still didn’t get anything from her, save for a few tears on her temples. A grah female losing moisture—that couldn’t be true! So many years lived among Antyrans weakened their seed, he concluded, intrigued. But then, he understood the reason.
“Sandara, who’s the other player? Ugo, maybe?”
“Yes.”
“Ugo is here! I have to disconnect right now!”
“Don’t do that, Gillabrian. If Forbat—”
“What could prevent him from entering my spikes right now?”
“He can’t. The jure has the keys of the algorithms only for Firalia 9. And some for Tormalin, where we interrogate the prisoners. The genetic functions are locked up in the games—otherwise, he could cheat the championships.”
“If Ugo can’t jump in my head, what does he want from me?”
“To disconnect you, what else?”
“Disconnect me! Well, what prevents him from pulling off my interface in Ropolis? Or sending a soldier to do it?” he exclaimed, afraid that the bracelet was in danger.
“You don’t know Ugo,” she said, smiling briefly. “He’s very… limited in the real world. There’s no soldier left in Firalia 9, and until tomorrow’s mobilization, he can’t possess them. He wants you in Uralia, but on an island under his control. Here, he risks that you reach the council.”
“Ha! He has no one to order? Somehow I find that hard to believe!”
“Some kaura openly help him, but as you might imagine, they can’t disconnect you. As for the others… I doubt he’ll reveal them your presence here.”
Gill never felt more exposed than now. He would have loved to believe Sandara, but how could he hope that her logic was better than Ugo’s?
“Sandara, I can’t explain the reason, but Ugo shouldn’t touch my body. I don’t want him to find me in a trance. Do you understand? I’d rather disconnect now than—”
“If you pull off your cups, he wins.” Smelling the distrust on his face, she continued, “Ugo is the city’s hero. Without him, Baila would have sacked Ropolis.”
“See?”
“But many fear his strangeness. As long as he doesn’t have a majority in the council, he’ll be cautious, very cautious. If they learn that he hid you from parhontes, all his plans crumble…”
“I’d like to believe you. However, he told Urdun about me, so why wouldn’t he do it with others?”
“I’ve no idea who this Urdun is, if the name is real. I suppose he might be a kaura about to expire. He can trust only them.”
“True! I heard him say he has only a few days to live.”
“Believe me, without the trance soldiers, he won’t try anything with your body. His plan is simple: he will disconnect you from here so that you can’t meet the council, and tomorrow, he’ll drag you to Tormalin—by force if necessary.”
And if you’re mistaken, the bracelet falls in Ugo’s hands, he thought. Still, what alternative did he have? The escape through the skyline would betray his secret anyway…
“I count on you, then,” he said, deciding to follow his smell.
“It’s about time! I’ve seldom met Antyrans more stubborn than you,” she chided him.
“Ugo has lost anyway, right? I mean, since you already know I’m here, you can tell Forbat about Ugo’s betrayal…”
“It’s not that simple. See, Gillabrian, Forbat is my father. He and many more oppose… Ugo’s nature. Before the Shindam’s fall, Ugo was an insignificant voice. But Baila’s attack changed everything. We allied with Arghail to live another day.”
“Ugo is Arghail?” he asked incredulously.
“Not yet… But I’m afraid that many will not believe me. It will be my word against his, and since everyone knows my opinion, they’ll—”
“I got it. You want me to go in spikes and tail in front of the council.”
“Exactly!”
“Then tell me your plan.”
“Everything depends on Forbat now. This year’s championships are over, so the games can be played by more than one player. In order to participate, I have to officially join the game from Rabinda, the island of the game caves. I will lead your battle while you hide in the forest and wait for Forbat to stop the game. Simple, no?”
“That means… I’m not going to fight?” he exclaimed with a hint of regret in his voice.
“No, licant-head! I thought that even an Antyran male could understand that!” she barked angrily at him.
He had no confidence that the female could fend off Ugo alone. If he could fight alongside, he could help her much better than if hiding like a coward.
“Have you ever played against Ugo?” he questioned her.
“A long time ago, but I don’t see—”