“So can you be trusted?”
“Are you sure you have a year? If I agree, I’ll want payment in advance.”
“Even if I don’t have a year, the clan does. I’m offering you a contract with the clan. The money is legal. And it’s after taxes, in cash.”
“I want a million and two hundred. Six hundred each for me and my partner.”
“Six hundred? We can do that…”
“Do you know why?” Hairo interrupted. “Life has taught me not to back people into a corner. In desperation, a man will promise a great deal, but I don’t have any use for empty promises. If I come over to you, then I want stability. Willy and I will work for your clan a year, and if all is well, we’ll discuss a promotion then.”
“Agreed, Mr. Morales.” The boy stood and offered a hand.
Hairo shook it, held on.
“Just to be clear… Is contract control enabled?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Speak your offer.”
“I, Alex Kieran Sheppard, representing the Awoken clan, offer a yearly contract to Hairo Morales and his partner…”
“William Brizuela.”
“… William Brizuela for a total of one million and two hundred thousand phoenixes after taxes for working in the clan’s security sendee. Payment for the first year of service will be transferred within three days of this moment.”
“I, Hairo Morales Garcia, representing myself and the interests of William Brizuela, accept the Awoken’s offer. I give my word not to disclose any information I have received during negotiations.”
That was it. No way back. A verbal contract had judicial force, although a few formalities yet remained. Hairo gathered his thoughts.
“Now I need to fly to the base right away. I’ll find out what Colonel wants, and tomorrow morning I’ll resign. This is an irreversible step, kid, and I have a family: a wife and daughter… Tell me, how are you guys doing out there? Who are you most afraid of?”
“Nobody is a threat to us in Dis. In the real world… The Alliance of Preventers, the Triad… Maybe Snowstorm. To grow, we need a place where we’ll be safe.”
“You can add the Cartel since Exco is involved. Colonel will definitely bring his brother in. Never mind, we’ll deal with it. How many of you are there?”
“Over a hundred, counting the noncitizens. They have an option for abase…”
“We’ll discuss it once I’ve left Exco. For your own security. I suggest we meet at your friends’ place tomorrow in Cali Bottom.”
“The roof of block thirty-six, Hairo.”
Morales nodded and finally released the Threat’s hand. The boy kept his gaze fixed on him.
“You know, Alex…” Hairo said. “I changed my mind. A million is enough for Willy and me.”
“Why?”
“Because this is the first time I’ve seen a citizen talk about noncitizens without using the word ‘inwinova.’ And we’re going to need a lot of money. Defense droids and turrets ain’t cheap. And you can forget about community flyers, Alex. We need a Shark.”
“Why?”
“Because after what you did this morning, you can say goodbye to the quiet life.”
Chapter 1: First Battle
I SOARED HIGH above the desert atop Storm and watched. The sun leaned down to the horizon, but I was sure the battle would start before nightfall.
The Alliance of Preventers had recovered after their fight with me and were gathering their forces into a single thrust. They were rushing to Tiamat’s temple so fast that by the time I’d come to an agreement with Hairo and returned to Dis, they were already approaching the Stronghold of the Destroying Plague.
And I didn’t know what to do. If my plague abilities were ineffective, then getting into a fight with a few thousand top players wasn’t just stupid, it was suicidal. It would be easier to eliminate myself as a Threat. If only that were possible, that would have been funny.
All the new Plague. Fury explosions in the frontier forts were no more dangerous than a firecracker to those who answered Nergal’s Summons. But those who caused the explosions died: the Yoruba members, who hadn’t taken the blessing. The Radiant God kept his promise and gave his followers protection. News of this traveled at the speed of light. I hadn’t had time to read the news properly, but the headlines made it clear enough: End of the Class-A Threat, Ace Up the Alliance’s Sleeve, It’s All Turned Around, Pyirhic Victory… That last one probably referred to me crushing the Alliance’s camp.
All that remained was to figure out whether the blessing protected them from all abilities related to plague energy or only from Plague Fury.
I counted twelve columns, matching the number of clans. The Alliance forces were moving on foot, without mounts. Maybe Nergal’s blessing didn’t extend to them. Each column consisted of three raid groups with a hundred men each—a total of three thousand and six hundred players and almost the same again in pets and minions. There was a broad groove cut in the sand, clearly made by the wheels of the Great Portable Altar as it carved its way through the desert in the rear. The real one this time. Unlikely that they’d dragged a second fake deep into the desert.
The army kept catching aggro from mobs, but even with their massive level advantage, few of them reached the tanks. I couldn’t figure out how the preventers had managed to overcome the penalties; they shouldn’t have been able to hit a mob sixty levels above them at all…
Around six miles from the preventer army, another army approached to meet it in uneven rows—the undead. Shazz had apparently leveled up his strategic skills, because he sent some scouts out in advance: Banshee Lieutenants and Bone Gargoyles, which reported on the alliance’s troop movements.
Now the walking dead and the other nightmarish creatures were moving in apparent disorder behind and to the sides of a walking skyscraper. Deznafar, Battle Avatar of the Departed, was covered in rotting flesh and chitinous plates like the kind I’d seen on the Ravager. All eight of its massive undead legs sank almost halfway into the
