Path of Spirit (Disgardium Book #6): LitRPG Series, Dan Sugralinov [the reader ebook .TXT] 📗

Chapter 11. Don Aranzabal

THE CLOSED SPACE of our apartments pressed on the mind. Maria had served dinner on cardboard trays — three fake-chicken tacos, artificial sour cream and real rice, beans and guacamole. I picked up mine and headed outside. Roj peeled away from a wall opposite. Once sure I was under her colleague’s watchful eye, Maria disappeared inside to tidy up.

“Bon appetit, boss,” the bodyguard said.

“Don’t you start, Roj…” I said and walked to the lift. “You should see how they talk to me in Dis: chosen one, boss, great one… Makes me sick.”

“Okay, Alex. You going for a walk?”

“I want to go to the roof. The air in here is stuffy.”

“Uh-huh, the ventilation system ain’t on yet.” Roj called the lift and stared at the indicator as the floor numbers changed. “Sergei planned a bunch of upgrades, but just can’t find the time. Your move here wasn’t supposed to be so soon.”

The lift doors slid open. I pressed the button for the top floor.

“Maybe we should hire more people?” I said.

“Hairo is handling it,” Roj replied, letting me into the lift with my food. “The trouble is that there aren’t too many really reliable people among the true experts. The locals are only qualified enough to hammer nails and turn bolts.”

We kept talking as we ascended to the roof. Before I went outside, Roj put a camouflaging baseball cap on my head, exchanged messages with Hairo and let me out. I found the security officer at the hangar.

When he saw me with my tray, Hairo dragged over a packaging box and made a table out of it, where we had a midnight dinner and talked. We sat down right on the sun-warmed roof.

Soon soil would be delivered, trees planted, lawns sown, benches placed — it would be a beautiful open-air park, where the residents could take a stroll and get some fresh air.

“Within a few days, we’ll be able to populate the other habitation floors. You planning to expand?” Hairo asked. “The non-citizens who know you have been talking. The people from their building have heard of your generosity and are eager to work for you.”

“Maybe. I’ll discuss it with the boys today. Whatever happens, we need more gathering crafts: miners, quarriers, herbalists, woodcutters…”

“Even more work for me,” Hairo grimaced, breathing out tobacco smoke. “Take it slow. You can’t keep every one of them under watch, or be fully certain of their loyalty…”

I looked to the sky as I listened to him, and the sky was everywhere: up, to the sides, behind. The full moon hovered right above us, but the stars still shone brightly. My parents were vacationing on the Moon at that moment… How long had they been there now, ten days already? When I thought of them, of them the security we all so needed, I suddenly remembered Horvac and his hundred-million space yacht. Just half a year ago that number had seemed abstract, and Horvac himself might as well have been from another planet. A man from the clouds.

The old map of the world constraining my thinking suddenly crumbled. Horvac stood figuratively next to me, at arm’s length away — soon he would be my ally. Along with, as it turned out, his good friend Sergei-Hinterleaf, we had been building shared plans together to oppose Mogwai only an hour ago. And a hundred million… I had a hundred million!

“Listen, Hairo…” I put down my half-finished taco and pushed the tray away. “Could we buy a space yacht? We could play Dis from inside it, right?”

“Heh…” The security officer coughed on his cigarette. “Sure. People play from the Moon. You have to stay in orbit or drift not far from Earth, otherwise there’s a little lag. But keep in mind, just buying a yacht isn’t enough. You need a whole crew to pilot and service it, and the luxury and transportation taxes will sting you for the cost of the yacht itself every year.”

“Got it. But let’s keep it in mind as an option. Is it hard to buy one?”

“No harder than a flyer. But we won’t be able to use it without a licensed pilot or space guide.”

“I got my status thanks to a former pilot,” I said. “He lived here, in Cali. He was called Andrew Clayton. What I mean is… Maybe there are others like him? Ex-pilots, veterans?”

“I’ll find out,” Hairo promised. “You finish your dinner. You’re a growing kid, and training. Muscle fibers need building blocks.”

I finished eating, nodded to Hairo and went to finally talk to Tissa. For myself, I’d decided to kick her out of the clan right away if she didn’t answer or messed around. I should have done it earlier, but first I fell into Eileen and Mogwai’s trap, and then events careered out of control.

She picked up. The comm lit up her sleepy face.

“Alex…” Tissa said, yawning. She brushed messy hair out of her eyes, got out of bed, walked to the window. “It’s morning here. I wanted to call you yesterday, but… I couldn’t… I put it off for today, but now you called.”

She seemed perfectly relaxed, as if nothing at all was amiss. Tissa… Melissa… What did I feel as I looked at her half-naked form? Emptiness. Nothing was left: no love, no warmth, no hurt. Sure, she was beautiful, but the spark was gone.

“You betrayed us,” I said, not accusing, just stating a fact.

“I did not! What happened was… Liam asked me to go to the Olton Quarries and meet someone. One of his friends, supposedly to help with an instance. I didn’t know Mogwai would be there! I didn’t even see him before he used Subjugate Mind to take control of me. He spent ages digging through my abilities, figuring things out… He