It was the animals that gave him away. First, frogs, which I carefully tiptoed my way around. Then lizards, which I was less impressed by. I’d seen enough of them being eaten by Gunga to know that they had no natural offensive capability. And the bugs that followed were merely a pest that had me reaching into my system inventory for a Bug Deterrent Potion.
(Given liberally as rewards throughout the game, these wonderful potions were the creators’ way of ensuring that no gamers left the game for the mundane reason of Irritation-By-Fly.)
By the time the fossas and lemurs came to the party I was the Pied Piper of Madagascar wildlife, leading a slow-moving but determined army of all colours, shapes, and racial identities. A civil rights protest march headed in the direction from which they’d originally come. Where I hoped to find their head of government: Kalorno.
At least the fossas seemed distracted. The first real threat to my desire to advance, they appeared more interested in the carpet of food that was spread out behind me. It made me wonder if Kalorno had stretched the boundaries of his ability to control animals a little too far.
Any game character, whether player or NPC, has strictly controlled caps. Cool-down periods, power levels, physical limitations—all serve to make the game a fair and competitive environment. Fun as it might be to stride around in God-mode, it becomes less so after the first hour of megalomanic glory. In fact, boredom quickly becomes a factor. There are only so many things you can smite before there’s simply nothing left to do.
Though there is a certain pleasure to the cha-ching of coins feeding into your inventory. The Lego franchise has always led the way in encouraging future builders and vandals with charm and style.
If Kalorno had reached his cap on mind-control, then it was one less ability I had to deal with. As long as I made it through what was coming toward me, of course. And avoided being overwhelmed by the swarm behind me.
Gunga, the drug having worn off, had been taking care of some of that problem, delicately picking out lizards and insects that she deemed most delicious. More were crushed underfoot when she barrelled her way toward me, having caught sight of the fossas.
Hooom-rattle, she uttered threateningly, the bass reverberating deep in my bones. It felt like the sound alone should have the ability to shake one’s skeleton loose of its surrounding flesh, and the fossas obviously agreed with that assessment. Shaking their heads and pawing at their ears, they split into two groups and edged their way around the outside of the main army of protestors, leaving the way open for me to advance.
Even the lemurs made no demur, staying in the trees and making much the same motions as the fossas. Ears and head shakes. Odd.
Hmm. If Kalorno was using something to hack into their brains then it had to be something that worked from a distance. Gas seemed unlikely, given the lack of an enclosed environment. You would need a canister the size of a jumbo jet to affect anyone even momentarily, as most of it would dissipate within seconds of being exposed to the open air.
Telepathy I supposed was a possibility, though the capacity to contact such diverse species, and the complexity of controlling so many at once was a tad unbelievable. The guy would have to have the brain of a supercomputer. And though he was in a sense comprised of bits and pieces of code, that code was set to the limitations of a primitive being. So, doubtful.
Sound was much more likely. Especially considering the animals’ response to Gunga’s hum. And the fact that I had not been affected. I had the standard auditory resistance that came with being a Bard, after all. If I didn’t, my own songs would affect me along with whomever I was targeting. It would make the Bard class the gaming equivalent of a suicide bomber.
At least sound was a concept I was familiar with. And had the ability to combat. I hummed an E flat, and allowed it to ripple uncertainly into a B. Or almost a B. The result was a discordancy that I hoped would generate interference with any sounds that were nearby.
Gunga, after an uncertain pause, hummed along with me in a counterpoint that sounded even worse. Any singer worth their salt would have run screaming from the forest.
It certainly had an immediate affect on my followers. Everyone scattered like drunks after closing hour; frogs bumping into lizards, swarms of flies flying haphazardly, lizards flashing colours like the lights on top of police cars. Even a bunch of the red long-necked beetles I had been so fascinated by bumbled their way through the mass exodus—though more than a few met their end via chameleon tongue. Confusion was not enough reason for them to miss the opportunity of an easy meal.
I had my confirmation. And a counterattack. Kalorno was so going down.
——
“The hits have nearly reached the million mark!’ Cherry said excitedly as she darted into the virtual meeting room.
Todd, as the room’s administrator, had set it to allow the entry of any of the rescue group, or The Emancipation Society as Terrin insisted on calling it.
The vampire flung herself on a chair and instantly choked, the cape catching underneath her bottom and pulling the securing cord tight across her throat. Yet another reason Todd didn’t favour capes. Their limited dramatic effect wasn’t enough to offset the dangers of wearing one. Superman had a lot to answer for.
Cherry sat up and tugged at the impedance. “I told you people couldn’t resist a human interest story.”
“Along with a natural reluctance to risk their own skins. This whole situation does revive the issue of safety when using virtual equipment.”
“There was that guy who lost the use of his arm…”
“An isolated incident of pure stupidity. People were hardly going to take that seriously. An unexplained logout malfunction, however…that’s been the subject of literature and vid horror stories for years—even before the technology was invented. It’s almost as triggering as an alien invasion or a rogue AI.”
“Duuude,” Terrin interrupted, popping into existence in the doorway. “Dudette. So this is where everyone is. No one told me.” His bottom lip quivered and his eyes opened dramatically. Even the bells on his hat seemed to jingle a sad, sad song.
Todd sighed and stacked and shuffled the papers in front of him. “I just came in to get some peace and make up work time. Callaghan hasn’t been happy about how long I’ve been spending looking at media unrelated to work, so I’ve been catching up here.”
“Boring. Why didn’t you tell him you were out saving damsels in distress?”
“Because I wanted to keep my job? Damsel saving isn’t exactly included in its task list.”
“Sweeties, much though I might enjoy this insight into the mundanities of your lives, my news is so much more important. And interesting. Now over a million views!” she crowed, eyes distant as she accessed her internal feed.
A notification on Todd’s own feed flashed. It was a hit on the search algorithm he’d set for any fresh news regarding a certain gaming company.
Almost synchronously all three sets of eyes widened.
“A vid crew has found SharkBytes!”
——
I may have been a bit hasty in declaring Kalorno’s imminent demise. He clearly had a few more tricks up his figurative sleeve than an ability to control animals.
As was evidenced by my current position. A rather precarious one that gave me a whole new sympathy for large game.
I was standing in a hole. Or a pit trap if you want to get technical about it. Easy enough to climb out of—if poison darts aren’t being shot at you every time your head breaches the cavity.
I was effectively pinned down. My only consolation was that I now knew where Kalorno was—yay, me! And the bugs that had started to fill the hole, armed with pincers and stingers—and little bazookas for all I knew—had scuttled away when I hummed. That had at least foiled the little twerp’s plans somewhat. Eaten alive had no doubt been high on his Nefarious-Ways-to-Make-Arline-Die list.
However. I flinched downwards as a dart arced over my head and thunked into the ground next to my foot. A near miss. Kalorno was beginning to find his range.
Which meant I had to find my own. While drawing out my lyre I considered my options.
Banshee Shriek? It might hurt Kalorno but I doubted it would actually harm him. And Lullaby was even less powerful. Up against such a strong opponent, I doubted it would produce much more than a yawn. Wings would only flush the hunter’s prey up into the air and make me an ideal target, like a pheasant in some fancy estate. My only safe option was Clamorous Cacophony. If I could get direct visual contact. Which would make ‘safe’ an erroneous term.
Another dart fell, this time wide of the mark. The mark being any part of my body. Pressed against the side of the hole that was directly in front of Kalorno, it was difficult for him to consistently pinpoint my location. Which was rather similar to my own visual deficiency.
Of course, he had the additional option to move around the hole, leaving me potentially exposed—a tactic that I had no doubt he would figure out soon.
My only recourse was to engineer my own way of seeing around corners. And luckily I had the tools I needed in my handy-dandy holding bag. Anyone that says women carry too much in their handbags I disagree with most heartily. A well-stocked person is a person with options.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
By the time I’d jury-rigged a periscope with a hand mirror, duct tape, and a long stick that I had found in the trench, Kalorno had begun to move. Fortunately, I caught a quick flash of him in the mirror heading around the hole and managed to dive into the appropriate defensive position before he could capitalise on his new vantage point.
And I now knew exactly where he was. I stabbed the stick into the ground where I could view Kalorno at the best angle, and pulled out my lyre again.
“Boom bada boom bada…”
No accompaniment from Gunga. She had been caught by the first barrage of darts when I had fallen into the trap. I could only hope that Bert would be able to do his cleanse thing again.
Speaking of.… Bert?
Still no response from the AI. I had more luck with Kalorno, however.
He swayed on his feet, a debuff icon flashing above his tag. Just a temporary Effect. But nevertheless, I saw the opportunity and took advantage of it, scrambling my way up the dirt sides and running full tilt into the shelter offered by the trees.
The flight was not without its cost, as branches and roots were slammed into with my face or tripped over—and sometimes both at the same time. I’d also had to re-stash my lyre to make the climb and I completely forgot the mirror in the rush, but at least I was out of the hole. And surely Kalorno’s tiny legs had no hope of keeping up with me.
So I ran. And ran. Heading south. I no longer had any interest in finding the Madagascar Logo; I simply wanted out.
When night fell, I joined the lemurs in the trees. I was so exhausted that I barely even noticed a slight weight settling onto my back and a warm, stripy tail curling over my face.
——
I did wake when two lemurs the size of gorillas started manhandling me. It took a strong, though slightly croaky E/B hum to dissuade them from throwing me from the tree, and shocked my brain into an immediate reboot that would have made any computer manufacturer green with envy.
Kalorno must be close by. He had to have travelled through the night and hidden his very hideable body somewhere within range of his mind control ability. A few hundred metres, maybe?
Then again, did he even have any clear idea of where I was? Sending out lemurs to Seek and Destroy didn’t necessarily mean he had any capacity to see out of their eyes. Though I supposed I couldn’t count on that.
I kept up the low-level hum until the giant lemurs slipped into the surrounding trees, and hoped they hadn’t already given the game away. Then I looked down into the undergrowth, trying to identify where Kalorno could be hiding.
I didn’t see him, but I did see something else. Hovering just above the ground and slightly to my left was a familiar dark blur of nothingness.
Jeez. I was glad I wasn’t remotely close to that thing. No knowing what would happen if I stepped through while…
And just like that, I had an idea. It would mean giving up any attempt at concealment, but Kalorno didn’t seem to be the arboreal type of primate, and I had already neutralised his usual method for reaching people in trees. He could still dart me of course, but a lot of the kinetic energy would be lost through the physics of height and gravity, and it would take a fair amount of luck to bypass leaves and branches.
But first I had to find the little punk. Which brought me to my most recently acquired skill: Illusory Storytelling. If it worked the way I suspected it could prove to be a very flexible tool.
Now, what song to use? I pondered for a little while, before a sudden inspiration made me grin wickedly.
I plucked two notes, firm and clear, and activated the skill.
“It was small, it was tight
“Zazzled and bedazzled
“Pink with white…”
A patch of hot pink with bright white polka dots appeared amongst a bush, cheerful colours that stood out in the dull greens and browns of its surroundings.
“And a teeny-tiny bow
“Man, it was colour at its height.”
Kalorno froze momentarily, then two hands blotted out the pink as he reached for assets that didn’t exist.
I continued the Hip Hop song, hoping the description of someone not wanting to move for fear of embarrassment would hold him in place.
“But my love, she was shy
“About the colour in my eye
“And was reluctant to leave
“Her room’s precincts to achieve
“Show-but-no’ tell to her guy.”
He hunched miserably.
I changed chords, wondering how long the effect lasted, when an old favourite came into my head. Heh. This is actually fun.
“From the altar of the dead
“My zombie will rise
Twist his hips, slip a disk…”
Oh, oooh, so cool. An apparition had appeared and eased itself off a flat piece of stone that had formed in the midst of the undergrowth. Not far from where Kalorno was hiding in fact. It had a bit of a Frankenstein’s-Monster-Meets-Marshmallow-Man-and-Has-an-Enormous-Rotting-Baby vibe about it—just as I had imagined it would look.
Kalorno was clearly not a happy camper. He shot to his feet, still clutching his non-existent breasts, and darted into alternate cover. Unfortunately, that’s when the first song wore off and he became invisible once more.
Mmm. I let go of Dancing Dead and began the Bedazzled song again. It didn’t work. I had to assume that I’d either run out of mana or you couldn’t use the same song twice.
I searched my brain for another song that would reveal someone, and somewhere amongst the cobwebs, found one. I was a bit fluffy on the notes, but I at least knew the lyrics by heart.
“Shiii-ny!” I began, imagining Kalorno surrounded by a large breastplate of trinkets and gold, “glitter-y, glow-y…"
“You sparkle like a jewel taken from the darkest hill…”
Kalorno twinkled and shimmered in the early morning light peeking its way through the trees, giving me a good view of him doing something to the trunk of the tree I was currently residing in.
Jewel morphed into The Twist until I could see that he’d shaken his booty close to the empty dark blur. Unfortunately, it was in the process of erasing itself, so I only had this one chance.
On the other hand, Kalorno wasn’t exactly large, so coaxing him through would probably still be possible for the next minute or two, giving me at least a bit of wiggle-room to make the attempt.
“Walk into this heart,” I coaxed, and he stumble-stepped away from the hole, toward me. Contrary little bugger. This was going to be trickier than I’d thought.
I tried increasing my luck by segueing into Good Timin’, but he still wouldn’t head in the direction I wanted. It didn’t help that I knew my mana had to be near its limit. I would have to resort to more direct contact.
I kept singing Good Timin’ as I climbed down the tree, lyre dangling from my wrist, and it may have been the effect of the song or an increase in experience climbing, but I reached the ground without losing Kalorno to his usual hidey spots.
Then I retrieved the instrument and switched gears, approaching him aggressively.
“I have stilettos I use for stompin’
“Black heels and tramp boots too…”
Electronic Instrumentation Skill (Passive) Awarded!
+10% to all active Skills!
The lyre’s volume increased to a level that wouldn’t have been out of place at an 80s rock concert. Experiencing the subsequent increase in power was exhilarating.
“They haven’t been there lately
“But watch out when they DO!”
I stomped—hard—towards him, the song having the happy effect of augmenting my weight by amplifying the sound.
And, like the ducks and terns, Kalorno flinched and turned to run.
“Walk. Stand. Shake…”
Nearly…nearly… But the effect faded. And a red, flashing light appeared on my UI with the message:
Insufficient Mana! Refreshment rate 1/10secs!
Kalorno steadied on his feet, beady black eyes narrowing in anger. One clawed hand reached up to pluck a spine from the back of his head.
But we had already come too far—him physically, and me, emotionally. This had to be our final moment. The ultimate showdown between villain and hero.
So I quickly bent down, and with the lightest of Mean Girl shoves, sent him into the abyss.
He unravelled like a ball of 0’s and 1’s caught in the claws of a hyperactive kitten before dissolving, leaving nothing but the narrowing circle to mark his end.
Kalorno DEFEATED?
World First! All Hail closedwhisper!
Reward: Hero Status amongst the Daalabi tribe!
Reward: 2000 XP!
Reward: #### (Error: 4530)
Reward: #### (Error 2867)
Great. I didn’t even get any bacon this time. The errors were slowly taking over the rewards process. Unless they had gone into effect without my knowledge it was a complete bust. Although I suppose the experience points were nice.
As I watched, the dark blur of nothingness slowly closed into a pinprick and disappeared altogether. I somehow doubted I’d ever see Kalorno again. Unfortunately, I also doubted that the method of his removal was a programmed part of the game.
And if the solution is being carried around inside a bird, then that bird must be close by.
“Gunga?” I called. “Bert?” Within seconds Gunga stumbled into view, the glowing Bert-orb stuck in her gullet lighting her way. Never have I appreciated a sight more.
“Whereyoubeen?” I mumbled with my face buried in Gunga’s chest feathers. She was a little wobbly on her feet, but had enough coordination to lean her head against the top of mine. “And why is Bert back in your throat? Shouldn’t he have…come out by now?”
It seemed expedient to allow myself to be swallowed—yet again. I am neither large nor particularly expeditious in my current form.
“Bert! You’re back!”
To a limited degree. But I do not believe that will continue to be true as long as we remain in this habitat. Madagascar is on the verge of collapse.
“What?”
I have been ‘patching things up’ as you would say, by using paint replicating techniques on the empty stacks of code that keep appearing in this area. But I cannot be in all places at once—at least not as a dungeon core. The anomalies are expanding and deleting everything in their path. We must flee before this habitat collapses entirely.
Like a fucked-up version of The Neverending Story. And I doubted there was anyone out there in the reality screaming their mother’s name. At least, not to save me.
A shiver went up my back, but that may or may not have been caused by the ring-tailed lemur who was using it as a ladder.
“Off!” I demanded, thoroughly sick of simians and their tendency to poke about where they weren’t wanted. The only lemurs that were welcome to climb about me were the mouse lemurs who—
Approximately ten lemurs shot out of my hat and into the fur of the ring-tail, who was clinging to the back of my neck. When all ten were aboard, it leapt to the ground and bounded on two feet to a group of its own kind that I hadn’t noticed in my enthusiasm to greet Gunga and Bert.
And there were others. Of all types.
Not this again, I sighed. I had thought that getting rid of Kalorno would mitigate the whole Planet of the Apes dealio, but it seemed I had some previously untapped talent for pissing off primates.
Yet they didn’t approach. In fact there seemed to be some big confab going on between my guy, the mouse lemurs, and a large ring-tail that I presume was the matriarch. It went on for a few minutes before she gave her subject a small round object that looked to be a fruit.
See? Not everything is about you. Sometimes it’s just about dinner.
Or not.
The original lemur was bounding over again like a messenger caught between two high-school crushes. He told me he’s really into you. Do you want me to tell him you’re into him?
This time the preferred method of ascent was my pant’s leg, and I had barely a second to worry about whether my belt would allow me to hold on to my dignity before the lemur was once more around my neck and peering into my eyes. From this distance it made them strain and blur; focusing was impossible. I even felt the cold wet of its nose before it began tapping on my chin with something hard that I reflexively confiscated. Little furry voyeur had no concept of personal space.
The lemur wasted no time in returning to his…pack?…once the…stone?…had been passed over. Again, the belt held fast, though minor slippage could be felt.
My thumb rubbed over etch marks in the stone.
Congratulations! You have released the lemurs from their servitude!
Server First! All Hail closedwhisper!
Reward: Hero reputation amongst all lower primates!
Reward: Logo Stone (World First! All Hail closedwhisper!)
Reward: Whistle of the Temptress!
Reward: 4000 XP!
Reward: 1000 gold[Error #203]fish!
Against all the odds, I had finally done it. Now it was time to get the hell out of Fantasia.