The last few zombies disappeared with popping sounds and Gandalf stopped the song and dance routine. Strangely, I don't think anyone had noticed my predicament until that moment, judging from the shocked expressions.
“Little help?” I managed to squeak.
“Hewwo, wabbit,” a voice said from behind us. Vern and Gandalf turned. I couldn't move, but the huge hand helpfully rotated me to face the voice to find Kevin grinning at me, holding a scroll.
“Golem,” he explained waving the scroll. The helpful hand turned me around again, I was finally able to see what I'd previously assumed was a statue. A 20-foot-tall clay-colored humanoid shape stared back at me impassively, with a face surprisingly reminiscent of Odo from DS9. It loosened its grip slightly, so that I can more easily breathe and talk. Kevin put the scroll into a pocket and I reflexively struggled. No joy, of course. He didn’t have to hold the scroll to control the golem, just possess it. And golems, besides being almost indestructible, were hella strong.
Kevin walked a little ways to the side, to put some distance between himself and the rest of the group, still smirking triumphantly, but not saying anything. It looked like he was going to wait for us to ask the first question.
“What's going on, Kevin?” Vern asked obligingly.
Kevin gestured at me. “Bill here. First time in a campaign, he goes from dragon fodder to a level above me by basically tripping over himself. Does practically nothing and comes out golden.”
“Plus I took your Staff of Fireballs, I'm sure that figures into it.”
Kevin glared at me. “You needed to be taken down a peg, bud.” He directed a nasty grin my way. “So, I set up this campaign and made sure you were invited.”
“You played and DM’d” Gandalf exclaimed.
“No, I've got a friend running the show. I'm just what you might call a-”
“Backstabber,” Vern finished for him.
“Whatever, none of you have anything that can take out a golem. Enjoy your deaths, courtesy of Bill. And speaking of Bill…”
Kevin raised a hand and made a squeezing motion. I waited for the end, hoping the sensory feedback filter was set way high, but nothing happened. Kevin got a perplexed look on his face and repeated the motion. Still nothing. Kevin reached into his pocket and the concerned expression changed to panic.
“Looking for this?”
We all turned to Tim's voice. He was leaning up against the wall, casually flipping a scroll in his hand. Oh yeah, that's right. Thief.
“You truly are and asshole, Kevin,” Tim said, and opened his other hand. The golem dropped me, then reached out, grabbed Kevin around the head, and squeezed. There was a pop sound, not the least bit like a zombie exploding, and squishy juice squirted from the top of the golems fist.
Vern bent over and retched.
“Oh god,” Gandalf exclaimed. “Did you have to do that?”
Tim grimaced in sympathy. “Okay, maybe not my best move. However,” he held up the golem scroll, “I appear to be in possession one kick ass piece of magic. I feel some leveling up in my future. Let's see what else we can find.”
We grinned at each other. Another successful campaign.
I'd invited myself over to Gandalf's VR again, and he was eyeing me suspiciously. Maybe he was expecting another lecture on the Gamers’ involvement in the expedition, but that wasn’t what I was worried about this time.
“So, about Kevin… that's not Bob-like behavior. How far as he drifted, anyway?”
Gandalf shrugged. “He’s actually one of my descendants. I could ask him, but off-the-cuff, I'd say he's about 24th generation, so it shouldn't be a surprise that he’s drifted a lot.”
“Bit of an asshole. A vindictive one, at that.”
“Yeah. Listen Bill, I get why the whole drift thing bothers the senior Bobs, but you need to appreciate that from our point of view, it's more upside than otherwise.”
Well that was interesting. I raised my eyebrows, and made a rolling motion with a hand for him to continue.
“When we first started the Gamers group, most of us were still mostly Bob-like, and frankly it was a little boring. Everyone wanted to be a magic user. The dungeons tended to all feature intellectual puzzles. Everything was carefully balanced, all very civilized. Now…” Gandalf made a helpless gesture. “Nowadays, you can't always depend on your fellow players. Sometimes crazy shit happens. Like today. And sometimes things go wildly out of control. Campaigns are way more fun these days. Also, we are now getting non-Bob replicants joining up, from some of the post-life replicant archologies.”
“What, seriously? Who?”
“No one, today - this was all Bobs. But a couple of guys from your last time out were ex-human. Interesting that you didn't notice.”
Huh. Well, he had a point.
“So, Kevin?”
“Is going to suffer a loss of reputation, but not so much for the attempted backstabbing as for failing at it. We’ll still let him join campaigns, we just won't let him stand behind us, if you know what I mean.”
I chuckled and shook my head. “You’re right. It's too easy to get myopic and see everything from the point of view of my own priorities. And that’s going to become an increasingly dangerous habit. I think I have to make an effort to start seeing everyone as individuals.” I stood. “Thanks Gandalf, for the game and for the lesson.
He was still smiling when I popped out.
18. Trouble with Snidely
Bob
August 2334
Nirvana River System
It was kind of a good-news better-news thing. The good news was that Snidely was now avoiding me. The better news was that everyone else had noticed, and was actively hanging around me. I wondered why I hadn't thought of this tactic when I was alive.
We were on our lunch break and were once again
