“What are you fucktards DOING?”

—Question in the comments section of the Age of Deception webpage before it was removed by the administrator

It didn’t take long to repeat the story I’d told Humanacepts and his goons; that of a hapless bard with a bent for knowledge and a thirst for tourism. I even added a little flourish with a description of a venerable master who had set me off on my journey. People are far more likely to give credence to a story if you imply you’re merely the victim of an order by a higher power. Especially in a world where the difference between the haves and the have nots is so profound.

I’m not sure how much Pedubast believed my tale, and I was also not sure how much he saw in the fighting. Did he witness me using my powers? Probably. But though I received a frown he did let off his questioning long enough to address Anhut’s issues.

After listening to her describe her problematic marriage and consequent need to part ways, the Pharaoh relaxed slightly. This, it seemed, was something he knew how to deal with.

“So you are wanting to join the Temple of Mut. Are you…” he trailed off delicately, “…of means? I do not like to pry, but the High Priestess is not known for her charity.”

Anhut’s mouth set, but her chin rose. “I was able to conceal some tiles from my husband’s folly. Enough to pay off my indenture and temple fees for a number of years. My mother gave them to me before I left. I think she doubted his worth even then—it was at the insistence of my father that the marriage was originally settled.”

“Men ignore the percipience of women at their peril.” I could swear his eyes settled on his ‘son’ for a moment. “But how excellent that your mother made provisions. I will arrange the necessary recommendations for you to be accepted into our glorious Temple.”

Anhut immediately prostrated herself, her entire body plastered to the floor. Good grief. If I tried that the sweat would adhere my skin to the marble and you would need a fish slice to get me up.

The Pharaoh looked annoyed for the first time. I really don’t think he liked the bowing and scraping. If nothing else it was incredibly time-consuming. “Yes?”

“Your Glorious Majesty, I appreciate and marvel at your generosity. But may I request that your recommendation be sent to the Tanis branch of the Temple of Mut?”

“You find the facility in The City of Sceptres insufficient?”

“Certainly not!” Anhut adamantly denied. “I would be honoured to offer my service to its magnificence. It is just that my family resides in Tanis.”

“And they would be free to visit you whenever they made an offering. I understand. Family is important. It complicates matters, but I’m sure we can prevail upon King Shoshenq to grant your request.” He paused, looking thoughtful. “It could even provide an opportunity to initiate a diplomatic mission. Prince Osorkon should not be the only person whispering in his ear. Humanacepts?”

“Your Majesty?”

“Much as I would wish to keep you here longer, I am afraid you are our highest ranking official.”

A small sound of distress issued from the vizier.

“Yes, yes, Oomahat,” the Pharaoh said impatiently. “You have precedence. But I need you here. And though your skills of organisation are excellent, you do not have the social ease that makes for a good diplomat.”

He turned back to Humanacepts. “I trust that you can make the appropriate arrangements. Select what men and provisions you need with my blessing. Oomahat will provide you with an official requisition permit.”

“I would recommend that such a party be small,” the princess added softly. “After the news of Takelot’s death there will be many proponents of Osorkon stirring up trouble on the streets. Better to move as quietly and inconspicuously as possible.”

“A wise decision, my Prince,” Humanacepts said approvingly.

“And I, of course will go with you.” Sekhet this time.

A slight wince from the princess; a smile of relief from the vizier. No wonder people had flocked to the Egyptian habitat. The characters were so well-nuanced that it like an interactive vid. Or reality itself.

Then they started getting into the business of Making Arrangements and I zoned out. Men, blah, blah. Supplies, blah, blah. Real didn’t always meant interesting.

The Pharaoh seemed to agree with me. Or at least was paying me too much attention to notice the conversation of those around him.

My heart began to pick up and I straightened in my chair.

“Who are you really?” he whispered, leaning in. He clearly didn’t want anyone else overhearing.

“Just…just a bard. Curious about your land.”

He flicked up a hand dismissively. “I am not unaware of your powers. Though we welcome such marvels amongst our own people, foreigners are not so trusted. Many would see you burned for such.”

“Oh sh—“

“But you saved my life. And you have not shown yourself violent without cause.”

“Thank—“

“However,” he stressed, still in the low voice he had begun with, “I have a duty to my people to ensure that they remain out of danger. It is a part of my responsibilities toward ma’at. Hence, it is my decision to include you in the party that will go to Tanis. Let you be Shoshenq’s problem.”

He tapped a finger idly against the couch’s armrest. “And much as I appreciate your actions today, I would not recommend returning to Upper Egypt.”

A not-so veiled threat. But one I understood. A stranger with a machine-gun is not necessarily an enemy, but they’re also not necessarily your ally. With no way of ensuring my allegiance or taking away my weapon I was a potential danger. (Unless Humanacepts offered his tongue-removal services…. Not that I was going to offer it as a solution.)

So there would be no retreating south once I left Egypt. That was acceptable. I would eventually need to find a ship or portal into Europe, but in the meantime I had a free trip down the Nile. My plan to exit the boat under my own wings once I reached the pyramids remained intact.

Things went remarkably swiftly after that. Owing mostly to the fact that the party was to consist of people who had had neither the chance to relax or unpack. Or sit for very long for that matter. When we got on the boat I was going to find a cosy nook, cover myself in the boys’ bug lotion, and sleep. I just wished I could find a way to smuggle my chair aboard.

Although…

I looked around. All the main players had surrounded Pedubast and were saying their goodbyes. When I thought no one was watching, I got out my holding bag and eased it over the back board. Then I pretended to sit back down and used my proximity to cover it the rest of the way, tipping it forward when I reached the legs. Luckily it wasn’t a very big chair. The gap was barely noticeable when I stood up to survey the room’s landscape.

A quick check of my holding bag’s contents revealed that it cost me three slots. A bargain considering how many the recliner and food avalanche had made available. Only one servant—the one acting as a portable food tray—blinked at me in confusion.

My stomach grumbled. Hunger was another necessity that was no longer being fooled by game-spawned equivalents. It wasn’t as bad as the thirst, but it did illustrate a disturbing trend. Death was a-creeping.

We left through the same door we came through, much to my relief. It gave me the opportunity to pick up Bert and Gerdy inside the throne room. I paused next to their hiding place on the pretext of picking something out of my boot and hoped Bert and Gerdy took the hint.

The guards in the room looked suspicious; probably thought I was swiping some priceless artefact (not completely unfounded), or wiping my grubby footwear against the pillar, but they either didn’t notice or didn’t care about the large insect with the glowing centre that flew down to my shoulder.

Though Bert looked a little pale to me. The core had obviously been unable to feed while he was holed up in the carving. Maybe it was a fixed image that had no transferrable properties. A conceptual issue for Bert. Code could say brown and curvy, but if it didn’t say ‘wood’ then it wasn’t.

The sooner I got Bert into another pumpkin the better. Though I was definitely going to be on the lookout for something more transportable. Something that could be put in a pocket or harnessed to my back or hip. Dropping it had been a desperate move to save us both, but it had been risky. Bert could have shattered in the initial impact.

As Gerdy’s face made plain. She was fair steaming mad at me for endangering her dungeon core.

“Fight…drop…you imbecile…!!”

Don’t worry, Bert protested as she sputtered incoherently and petted the AI like an animal that needed to be comforted. I wasn’t damaged. Just got a little fright, that’s all. It couldn’t be helped.

“You are being much too generous. This…this…oaf sacrificed you to save yourself. Surely you must allow me to chastise her!”

No. No chastising. As I told you earlier, you must expect some excitement from time to time. We do not have the luxury of a set position to burrow down and make ourselves safe.

“But why not?” she cried despairingly.

Because sometimes we need to break from our comfortable normality in order to achieve the extraordinary. Can you understand that?

“Actually…actually…” Her eyes fixed, then blinked. “That sounds…. I’ll consider.”

Another glitch? Probably. It was a wonder I hadn’t seen any in so long.

Sceptres was dark by the time we left, resupplied but missing many of our previous entourage. Humanacepts, Sekhet, Anhut, Amun and three guards were all that would be accompanying us to Tanis. Surprisingly, Prince Shoshenq joined us at the last minute. She said she wanted to ensure that we got to the docks unimpeded. I doubted it was with her father’s permission.

At least she was prepared to travel incognito. Everyone apart from Anhut and I had been obliged to don civilian robes—white linen with no embellishments. As a result, the lowest of the low now looked like the highest ranked of our party. A deliberate strategy on Sekhet’s part, as many of these could be recognised. We wanted no one to know we were leaving.

Unfortunately we were still a large enough party to be noticed in the street. And, rendered dim-sighted by the lack of street lights, the danger conferred by the anonymity of darkness seemed ever present. At one point a hulking shadow in the shape of a tall man made my heart pitter-patter like a nervous bunny, before I realised that it was one of the statues we had passed on our way in. On another occasion a rat scuttled from the darkness across my feet. I accidentally stepped on its tail, making both it and me squeak. Me in fright and it in anger. If it could have shaken its fist it probably would have.

Such were the travails of bipedal apes in a world without electricity. No wonder we gravitated toward trees and caves at night. When the sun went down the advantage shifted to the nocturnal predators. It was actually a relief when I heard a voice shouting up ahead. Evidence of people of the non-sneaking variety.

“My good people!” he bellowed. “Are you happy being guided by an imposter?—no lineage, no direct connection to the gods, and advised by a self-determined Priest who is barely able to read and write. How can you expect to ascend if the gods no longer consider The City of Sceptres worthy of their attention?” The man paused. “My good man. The offerings you have made on this year and the year previous. Were they fruitful?”

“No, Your Holiness. The Great God Amun has not been kind. A sickness has come over my family. My son passed but a month ago.”

I could see ahead a large crowd. Amongst it, an abrupt shift in their ranks allowed us a view of what was causing the ruckus.

Standing on top of one of the lion statues was a man dressed in robes both splendidly coloured and fitted to an exactitude. The body inside it was of an equal standard, well muscled and animated, with face and hands displaying his concern. A charmer. Women learned from an early age to watch out for guys like this. They were like butterflies, scooting from one flower to the next, pollinating anyone they came across.

In this case, the entire street. He had effortlessly engaged the attention of everyone around him. Window shutters were unbarred and occupied my curious residents; men bearing foaming mugs leaned against walls; even the people on the outskirts, looking uncertain and afraid, had stopped to listen.

Our own party stopped, but not to listen. Humanacepts was talking to Sekhet and Amun, murmuring too low for me to hear. The Princess merely stared at the orator, looking furious.

“Son of an ass. It’s him,” she said through her teeth. “Osorkon couldn’t even wait until he knew if the assassins had done their work. Just sets up shop as if he knows nothing about it.” She turned to Humanacepts. “I should have realised he would do this. He had to take the risk of coming here in order to destabilise the city after my father’s death. Without Osorkon’s presence we would have regrouped, and the succession been assured.”

“A risk that will not pay off,” Humanacepts countered, making his way over to where the Princess was stewing. “I have sent a guard to inform the medjay of his presence. We will soon—“

“—as for Prince Shoshenq,” the orator continued, “by his effeminate ways we can only assume—“

A change came over Sekhet. Rage burned in his eyes. And then Sekhet charged through the crowd, throwing aside any who didn’t move fast enough. The noise he made would not have been out of place on a bovine sprinting toward something red. Fury carried him forward even through the poorly disguised guards that surrounded Osorkon, and it was only the prince’s athleticism that allowed him to escape, scurrying up a decorated wall with Sekhet in hot pursuit.

Princess Shoshenq’s eyes shone. I could tell she was desperate to follow, but duty called her back.

“Well, that’s just made our disguises pointless,” Humanacepts stated grimly. “Amun, get everyone moving. We need to avoid this crowd if we can.”

——

Tanis? Why does that name ring a bell? Todd considered. There was something…

——

Unfortunately, the crowd proved tenacious, rolling across the street like an avalanche; all bellowing ‘Osorkon’ and ‘tyrants’ and other equally unimaginative sobriquets. It certainly made a person run faster, though. Nothing quite like a riled mob to make you wish you’d paid attention in PE. Or at least picked a Class that needed to be a little more active than a bard. Standing I could do. Sitting I was an expert at. Running, not so much.

If I’d had a clear enough path I would have attempted to use my wings, but trying to do so in the close quarters presented by our party and the narrowing streets seemed a good way to get myself killed. Trampled or pulled down by scared and/or infuriated civilians.

A projectile shot through the air and clanged off my lyre. Rebounding, it returned to its former owner and knocked her out cold. In its usual position across my back the instrument was proving to be a potent shield against hostile fire.

Noticing this, Amun, bastard that he was, ordered me to fall back. Sure, my back was impermeable, but my head and legs certainly weren’t.

A gap shortly opened up between me and the guard who wasn’t doing a very good job at guarding me. He had obviously been paying a bit more attention in his PE class. Necessary in a guard I suppose.

Though a bit pointless if you used that ability to outpace your charge. Very life-affirming but hardly sticking to the spirit of your job contract.

Yearrrgh!

Ting! Ting! The next few rocks went the same way as the first.

It was the arrow that sent me sprawling. The sheer force was enough to push me forward, which excited the pursuing crowd into a frenzy.

A frenzy that I belatedly noticed had halted. I turned slightly while getting up, looking to see what had diverted their attention.

Ick. The arrow had faithfully returned to its owner and buried itself into his eye. Our pursuers would think twice before employing serious weaponry again. The lyre was large and I was moving continuously. They would need a sniper’s rifle to be assured of hitting any part of me that wasn’t covered.

The people growled again and started to trot forward.

Great. Now all I need to do is keep the mob from pulling me apart--piece by piece.

——

Tanis. “Gus, doesn’t Tanis have an entrance to the Entertainment District?”

“Yes,’ Gus replied absently. “I think so. Why?”

“Because if Arline survives Sceptres, Tanis is next on her schedule.”

——

Bonus Agility pt awarded!

Finally. The system had been remarkably stingy about awarding anything lately. And I’d been doing my damnedest to initiate it. There was even a cramp beginning to form on my left foot where it was no doubt straining against the haptic sensors.

The suit cut out most real-world sensation, but pain and other stimuli could break through if they were painful or irritating enough. In our teen years, my brother had once dropped a beetle down my suit, and nearly peed himself laughing as I squirmed around in both the virtual and real world. Not so funny for me; I thought I was infested and had downed enough bug potions that my avatar had died.

I limped after my fleeing compatriots. No time to massage it out. The pain would have to wait.

Ping! Thud!

Pain anomaly detected! Please logout and consult a stasis suit technician immediately!

-4 Hit pts! You have been hit by a rock!

A lucky shot had struck the back of my calf. Instant agony, barely muted by the pain sensors, though luckily it was on my already duff leg. The limp worsened.

The crowd, sensing their prey slowing, got louder and faster. I pushed through the pain to move a little more swiftly.

Farther in the distance I could hear the pound of regimented footsteps, unmistakeable to someone who had been hearing them for the past two days.

The cavalry. Probably. I doubted Osorkon had managed to slip an entire troop into Sceptres without the gate guards noticing. An individual, yes. Even two. But an army? Unlikely. Besides, if they’d had that many, they would have had no need of a mob. A frontal assault to the unfortified palace would have sealed their victory.

——

“It’s a long shot,” Gus warned. “The chances of the salon letting her through into the main district are low at best.”

“But at least we’ll get to meet her again,” Terrin said, excited. “Man, it’ll be rad just to talk about all the fun things she’s been doing.”

“And, more importantly, to ask where she lives,” his brother reproved. “Though you’re not going with me.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t trust you to keep to the script. The salon is a part of the Entertainment District, which makes it a controlled zone. The moment a person starts talking about real life or referring to the system as a game they’re kicked out.”

The Entertainment District was a network of enclosed locations across multiple systems that offered a variety of services within easy walking distance of each other. You want your avatar to be clothed by a Parisian tailor from the Howdy sim, then for a nominal fee it could be done. Have a hankering for the sweet stuff? The Candy Crush shop would let you eat till you dropped. Even if you didn’t own a subscription to that particular game.

Parts of AoD were similarly attached; the royal Egyptian women’s salon being just one of these. Different varieties of pubs and native dance retreats were also included. There was even an exotic pet store that offered creatures that could be attached to your avatar, though they couldn’t affect environment. A toy, not a tool.

You also couldn’t use these locations as a way to get into the main body of a game that you hadn’t paid for. The door was only accessible to someone that had entered through it. But if they could get Arline through the ED entrance and into a healthy game that she was subscribed to…

“I can be discreet.”

“That…would be almost worth the risk to see.” Todd hesitated. “When the time comes, we’ll keep you in reserve. With two people trying to get in we have better odds.”

“As I said,” Gus, aka ‘the voice of doom’ returned, “there is no guarantee that the nodes are still active. A brick wall will still be a brick wall no matter how many bodies you throw against it. And sometimes bodies break.”

“Understood. We’ll make the attempt outside of the company. You can’t be held responsible for anything we do when we’re not on the premises.”

Gus nodded. Once. Just a slight incline of his head.

Was that respect?

“I can at least offer you an improvement in the equipment that you brought with you.” He rose from his chair, dispersing sesame seeds that were destined to lie fallow. “Follow me.”

——

With the arrival of the royal troops, the tide turned. Much of the mob decided, ‘Oh, lordy, time for tea’, and eased into the shadows to return to their natural habitat. A few of the more rowdy remained, but though they still had numbers on their side, they had no hope of prevailing. Rocks and a few pitiful arrows were all they had against a trained force—complete with shields, armour, and superior weaponry.

Which isn’t to say that the few that did remain didn’t give it a damn good shot. Bodies from both sides littered the street by the time the fighting stopped.

Among them, to my shock, was Amun. I discovered after the fighting had died down that he’d put himself in the path of a slingshot sniper in order to protect me. Proving that he was by no means the ass I had painted him.

God, I hate this game.

Humanacepts pressed a hand across the former captain’s eyes to close them. Then he patted him gently on the shoulder and stood up.

“The port is but a block away.” He turned to Shoshenq. “My Prince, while I respect and appreciate your assistance, I do not feel it is entirely safe for you to remain with us. Even as far as the port. In the interests of Sceptres’ future I request that you return to the palace.”

The Princess, who had been looking around for something—or was that someone?—quirked her left cheek in agreement. “You are correct, Cousin Cepts. Though I am reluctant to leave without at least ensuring you have a bodyguard. Please inform me should Sekhet return.”

Humanacepts’ affirmative response was warm, with none of the disapproval I would have expected. Maybe he too had considered the problem of an heir to the heir.

And then we were on our way again, minus the princess and her medjay commander, stumbling toward a port that seemed more mirage at this point than reality.

Which explains why I almost fell into the water before I even realised we’d arrived. Only Anhut’s hand prevented my day from descending into complete Turdville. Literally. Sewage bobbed around the boats like miniature islands, and the stench had attracted its share of insect passengers. Ports in AoD were never good places to hang out.

Though hang out we did. For what seemed like hours. Humanacepts was having a hard time commandeering a boat, the captain naturally being leery of the value of the papyrus he was waving and the guards trying not to clank. Robes can only do so much.

Finally convinced by Humanacepts’ superior air (and superior bribe) the captain let down the gangplank, allowing us to board at last. Before the crew could untie the ropes however, a disturbance at the gates made everyone look their way.

Sekhet had arrived. In his typically grand style. The gate guards had spotted the running man and, naturally assuming foul play, moved to prevent his progress. Sekhet was objecting to this prevention by attempting to charge through them. An action that had all the hallmarks of imminent disaster.

“Let him through!” Humanacepts barked. “He’s one of ours!”

The guards looked at each other and backed off. They were well aware of who Humanacepts was, having read the papyrus scroll that the Pharaoh had given him. I was just surprised that they hadn’t recognised Sekhet, though he was looking a bit the worse for wear. Berserker-mode was a bummer for sartorial elegance.

Trotting up the gangplank with an enviable lack of wheeze, Sekhet threw himself at Humanacepts’ feet.

“I apologise, my Lord, for my absence. I have failed in my duty of care. You would be well advised to order my execution.”

Humanacepts sighed. “Sekhet. We have known each other for…how long? I am well aware of your situation and my position in your list of priorities. The Prince must always take precedence.”

“Defending life is more important than defending a person’s honour.”

“That may be so. But if you had captured or killed Osorkon you would have defended our entire country. And that is more important than the lives of anyone here.”

“But I did not! He crawled into a tunnel within a line of houses and I was too large to follow. I risked your life and the life of the Prince for nothing.”

Humanacepts shoved his hand into his hair, dislodging his hat. “It’s been too long a day to end like this. Castigate yourself if you will, but at least return to your duties. We can ill afford to suffer any more death this night.”

Sekhet looked us over and it didn’t take him long to spot the gap. “Amun?”

“Indeed. His service will be missed, Osiris take his soul.”

“Yea,” the medjay agreed softly, rising to his feet.

With that, our company, whittled down to eight, was finally able to continue the journey.

——

Later that night, curled up in my newly acquired chair, I tried to get to sleep. But while my backside was comfortable and waves rocked me gently, my companions conspired to deprive me of that dearly needed resource. The system wanted my attention and it wasn’t taking no for an answer.

“So what is the story? Why did Oomahat assign me as your bodyguard? If he wanted to be rid of me he had only to have me transferred to the army. Or sent to a minor temple.”

I could hear the slosh of a liquid being downed. Somehow I doubted it was water. Hell, even the children in this place probably didn’t know what water tasted like.

“Oomahat has been a very naughty boy. I caught him flogging one of his servants. And I’m sure it wasn’t the first time.”

More sloshes.

“I thought it might be something like that. Now, I suppose he’s got to keep you alive in case your soul reaches the afterlife before his. That piece of defecation knows you would denounce him.”

Humanacepts snorted. I got the impression he was a little tipsy. The man I knew didn’t normally approve of such indelicate noises.

“Even if I didn’t, Anubis would judge him unworthy. The feather of Maat would rise and Ammitt be granted her due.”

Sekhet laughed. “I like that. If anyone deserves their heart be eaten by a crocodile, it’s Oomahat.”

I blinked and found myself rising without the consent of my brain. It was quite disconcerting, if familiar. A cutscene was occurring.

Compelling my avatar’s legs to walk me to the front of the boat, the game-sys then made me watch as the moon began to travel across the sky, the boat to pick up speed, and the magnificent sights of an ancient civilisation to drift past. Monuments, pillars, cities, roads.

And, sure enough, amongst this splendour rose the Pyramids of Giza. Rose and fell back into the distance. I had missed my opportunity for a quick getaway.

Dammit.