Wsim24B Ch 08

I was on my knees, next to Anna's body, looking up at the Pope. But this man wasn't Rodrigo Borgia. He was a time-traveller, like me. He had to be. There was no way that Pope Alexander VI spoke modern English.

- "Who

are

you?

"

he repeated.

- "Lieutenant Pilgrim, ISEC." I said. "Investigating Captain Teck and his crew. She's - she was one of them. There are two more just outside. My friend Miguel and several more of your Spaniards are keeping an eye on them."

- "Miguel?"

- "Michelotto."

- "Ah. Him."

- "Reliable man." I said.

- "Well, I could probably use a reliable man, right now - with a dead woman in my private apartments."

- "We... we can take care of that."

- "Not you. You're staying here." he said.

The fake Pope and I left Anna lying there, and went into the antechamber.

"Take a peek outside." he suggested, this time speaking in Spanish.

The two Italian guards were still there. So was Michelotto.

"Michelotto!" said the Pope. "Come inside for a moment." Big Miguel came through the door. I closed it behind him.

- "What's going on out there?" I asked.

- "Those two men saw us gathering. They began to move away, and then they ran for the exit. We weren't able to stop them."

- "Alright." said the Pope. "I need you to do several things for me. First, put at least six Spaniards outside this door. Second, send someone to find de Lorqua. Then come back inside, by yourself. No, wait - bring a couple of reliable men with you. Men who can keep a still tongue in their heads.

Reliable

men -

if you know what I mean

."

- "Yes, Your Holiness."

When Miguel slipped back outside, the Pope led me back to Anna's body. He crouched down, and took hold of the edge of the carpet she'd fallen on.

- "Well? Are you going to help me? Maybe you should start by taking that dagger out of her neck." Then he pointed at the pin she'd tried to stab me with. It was the size of a knitting needle. "Put that aside, as well."

I did as he asked. Together we rolled up the bloodstained carpet, with Anna's body inside it.

Michelotto returned with Enrique and Carlos.

- "There are ten men outside the door, Your Holiness. And de Lorqua is on his way."

- "Thank you. Will you come this way, gentlemen?" He took us all into the inner chamber, and pointed at the mess on the floor. It looked exactly like what it was: a rolled-up carpet with a bloody body inside. "Will you be able to dispose of this for me? Later tonight, of course. When everyone is asleep. I am counting on your...

discretion

."

- "Of course, Holiness." Neither Miguel nor his companions showed the slightest surprise at being asked to dispose of a body. What astonished me, I think, was how calm this fake Pope was, and how quickly he'd accepted the killing of an attractive woman right in front of him.

We returned to the antechamber, and waited for de Lorqua to arrive. He was much quicker this time. He looked flushed, as if he'd been rousted out of bed.

- "You know this man?" asked the Pope, pointing at me.

- "Yes, Holiness. He is Torun de Peregrino. One of your Spanish blades."

- "Arrest him." said the Pontiff. "Put him in the Castel Sant' Angelo. Alone."

***

I can't recommend the Castel Sant' Angelo as a place to stay. Maybe the accommodations are better for those of noble blood. My cell was of unrelieved stone. It had no windows. There was a ratty old wooden bucket, and a pile of moldy straw in one corner. I sat on the floor on the opposite side, with my back to the wall.

There was all the time in the world to consider my fate. I thought about the fake Pope. Whoever he was, he seemed to have the habit of command; he issued orders crisply, with confidence that he would immediately be obeyed. He'd seen death before, too. While initially horrified when he saw me kill Anna, he had no qualms about rolling her body up in the carpet, and asking Miguel to get rid of it. I wondered if Anna would end up in the Tiber.

Then I wondered if that was

my

eventual destination.

I knew that he wasn't the real Pope. But I wasn't the only one. There were the other players, Teck and his crew... and who would believe me, anyway? I wasn't a threat to him - unless he was paranoid. Who was he? He was extraordinarily clever, or he would never have been able to pull off an impersonation of the real Rodrigo Borgia.

It was hard to tell the time of day, given that the only light came through the small grille in my cell door. I was fed twice. My best guess was that I'd been here for a day and a half when I heard footsteps. The keys jangled, and my cell door swung open.

- "Leave us." said the Pope. The fake Pope. He had three soldiers with him, one of whom carried a shuttered lantern. He raised one shutter, so that I was illuminated by a beam of light, while they remained in darkness.

I wouldn't have tried anything, anyway, but three armed men that I couldn't even see? The Pope wasn't taking any chances.

- "I'm sorry about the cell." he said, in English. "I didn't realize it was... this bad."

- "They don't change the straw." I said.

- "These fellows with me don't understand English - much less modern English - so we can have a fairly private chat, if you feel up to it. Let's start with who you are, and what you're doing here."

- "Alright." All things considered, this was a polite way of asking for information. He could have had me tortured, and none of his cronies would have batted an eye. Besides, I needed this man. If he simply kicked me out of Rome, then I'd be alone and friendless again, with Teck and his squad out there.

So I told him that I worked for ISEC, that Colonel Renfro was my handler, and that he was investigating Admiral Colenso's little Halygon parties. Unfortunately, I couldn't see his face, to see how he was taking these revelations.

I told him about Captain Teck, and my experiences with Nika aboard their Halygon. Then I described our arrival, and the ambush on the road.

- "You believe that they killed my son?" he asked.

- "Not your actual son. The real Cesare Borgia, though? Yes. The dates match, and Miguel knew what direction they were coming from. What other party of eight travellers were slaughtered on the road that week?"

He was silent for a moment. "Go on."

I described Nika's murder, and my headlong flight.

- "Wait - why would this Captain Teck murder his own operatives?"

- "We'd been foisted on him. I believe that he knew we were investigating him. Anna - the woman from your apartments - she knew me from ISEC training. But I think there was a leak, too. Teck's handler is connected to Admiral Colenso - and he's obviously more afraid of the Admiral than he is of my Colonel."

He asked me to carry on, so I described my journey to Rome, and my encounter with Miguel and the Ramires brothers.

- "They say that you saved their lives, in an ambush by the Orsinis."

- "It was mostly self-preservation. If they went down, I was going with them."

- "You're remarkably honest about it." he said.

- "I have no other option. If I'm going to be useful to you, you need to trust me."

He was quiet again. "You think you can be useful to me?"

- "Of course I can. I was at AFOTA, and I'm an ISEC agent. If there's the slightest chance that Teck will try again, I'd say you need me."

Silence.

- "We'll talk again." he said. Then he left.

***

I sat in that stinking cell for two more days. There were improvements, though. A flunky came in to remove the moldy straw, and replace it with fresher stuff. I was also provided with a blanket.

But I wasn't able to wash my hands, or clean my teeth. My skin crawled, and I was itchy in half a dozen places. Scratching didn't help. I preferred not to think too much about what was causing the itch. Probably the blanket.

Then the Pope returned with his three soldiers - and their lantern.

- "I was intrigued by what you told me." he said. "I also spoke to Michelotto about you again. He thinks very highly of you. So does Diego Ramires."

I nodded, but didn't respond.

"You

may

have possibilities." he said. "So let me tell you this: you're wrong - there's no such thing as time travel. You're

not

in past. Nor are you on the historical planet Earth. There's no way to explain this simply, or to break it to you gradually. So here it is:

this is a simulation

. An incredibly detailed and sophisticated simulation - but it's basically just a super-advanced computer program. This particular one is WSim24B. The 'W' stands for world."

I opened my mouth, and then shut it. I'd been about to say 'That's impossible' - but obviously it wasn't, because here we were. It was no more unbelievable than time travel. Or was it? That computer would have to create hundreds of millions of people, each with their own memories...

"Yeah." said the Pope. "It boggles the mind, doesn't it? Don't ask me how it works; I had three former players try to explain it to me, and I still don't get it."

- "Players?"

- "Okay, let me explain this in my own time. My real name is Rear-Admiral Vincent D'Onofrio. Retired, of course. I commanded 4th Fleet in the Gianxe campaign. That's where I met Admiral Lee. Years later, he introduced me to Admiral Colenso. Colenso and I shared a hobby: historically-based strategy games."

- "Like at AFOTA?"

- "Just like them, but campaigns rather than battles. We also liked simulations where the players took on the role of heads of state in a historical setting. Colenso invited me to meet some of the people we had both played against. That's when he broached the idea of WSim. It was originally the brainchild of two university profs and a small team of designers. They didn't have the means to mass-produce it, and if they went public, AFOTA or ISEC might simply take it away from them. Colenso persuaded them that their program would be better off as a very expensive hobby for very wealthy men - at least for a time."

I was still having trouble wrapping my head around the whole idea, but D'Onofrio - I still thought of him as the Pope - seemed to take it for granted.

"At this moment, Admiral Colenso and I, with three other rich men with too much time on their hands, are aboard a Halygon ship, on a short cruise."

- "45 to 48 days." I said.

- "You knew that? Well, it ensures that we won't be disturbed or interrupted. Then we drew lots. I don't know for sure which historical figures the other players are going to be - though I have some pretty good guesses. We went into stasis, and underwent hyper-sleepread sessions."

- "Those are dangerous!"

- "No. Just expensive. And they're not dangerous if it's voluntary, and you know what you're doing. I have all of Rodrigo Borgia's memories. I know everyone in his life, everything he ever did. Up to 1492, that is."

D'Onofrio didn't sound stupid. He had to know that what he'd learned was a facsimile - an educated guess, at best. But if all of the simulated people were operating on the same premises... then I imagined it

could

work. Miguel de Corella and Diego Ramires weren't real - but they had certainly felt that way, to me. It was difficult to imagine them as basically characters in a sim game.

- "Wait -

up to

1492?"

- "Of course." he said. "I mean, you can't rule out foreknowledge entirely. I know what Columbus is going to find, and that Martin Luther will show up in the early 1500s - unless I do something about it. But that's the genius of the sim. Every decision we make, every little event that's different, can change history."

- "Like Cesare's murder."

- "Exactly. But there's something much stranger going on, and I don't know what it means."

- "Me?"

- "Yes. You, and this Captain Teck. How did you get into the sim?"

- "I didn't know that it

was

a sim. But Teck does. He's done this before."

- "Has he, now?" I couldn't see D'Onofrio, but he had to be mulling that one over. "Listen, Pilgrim: we have a lot more to discuss. If I move you back to the palace, and get you a room... would you stay put?"

- "Yes. But... Admiral - if this is just a sim, you could... just let me out. I need to report to my Colonel. One of your players is cheating. My guess is that Captain Teck works for Colenso. They killed my partner, and tried to kill you. So if you could -"

- "I've got bad news for you, Pilgrim. I don't know how you got into the sim, and I have

no

idea how to get you out. You're probably in it for the duration - just like I am."

- "So... another forty days or so, give or take?"

- "No, son. Time here is very different. I'm going to be the Pope until 1517. Forty-some days on the Halygon. But twenty-five years here."

***

The Pope did move me back to the Apostolic Palace later that day. He also arranged a warm bath for me, with soap, and a shave. The room I was given was small - not much more than a narrow bed, with a chest for clothes at the foot of the bed. A crucifix on the wall was the only decoration. Was this a servant's room, then?

I didn't need to be reminded to stay put. Where could I run? So I sat and thought.

The WSim was just too mind-boggling to wrap my head around. It was better just to think of it as some sort of incredible role-playing game. Yet the non-player characters were made of flesh of blood. They could die. Pedro Ramires had suffered a concussion. He felt pain, and nausea. I'd killed a man. So had Miguel. Nika was dead.

The Pope - or D'Onofrio - sent for me the very next day. He had three guards with him. I assumed that they were the same fellows who'd visited me in the Castel Sant' Angelo.

- "Thank you for the bath." I said.

- "You're welcome." D'Onofrio and I were from a much different time. The stench and the filth of this era were difficult for us to stand. "You weren't tempted to run?"

- "No, Admiral. You're pretty much the only game in town for me."

He grinned. "I suppose I am."

It was interesting, to be able to see his face and his reactions while we talked.

- "And we have the same enemies."

- "Right. Just so you know, the assassination attempt the other day

wasn't

an assassination attempt. So you didn't actually save my life."

- "What?"

- "See, the sim works... differently. I'm going to be the Pope for 25 years. If Rodrigo Borgia dies, I'll become the next Pope, the moment he's elected. Hopefully, he won't be

too

old."

- "You'll have all of the next Pope's memories, too?" I said. "That's not possible."

- "Apparently it is. It works the same for the other players. If he's the Doge of Venice, or the King of France, he plays that

role

- even if the person dies. So, you see, they could have killed Rodrigo Borgia - but not Vincent D'Onofrio. Oh - and that needle she had? The one you thought was poisoned? It was just a sedative."

- "How do you know?" I asked. There were no labs in this sim.

- "Tested it on a servant. He passed out. Didn't die."

This man was certainly ruthless enough to be a Renaissance Pope. If it

had

been a lethal poison...

He saw my face, and knew exactly what I was thinking.

"I don't like that servant all that much." he said. Then he smiled. "Look, Pilgrim: the other players know that they can't kill me, so your Captain Teck, if he's working for one of them, has to know it too."

I shook my head. "With all due respect, Admiral, you could be very wrong. If Rodrigo Borgia was assassinated, isn't it possible that your rival players could interfere in the next Papal conclave? They could delay it, for a long time. Or they could engineer it so that a weakling won - another compromise candidate, for example."

D'Onofrio frowned. He must have been thinking of this as a game. The fact that one of the other players was cheating - and the question of

why

they were cheating - hadn't fully sunk in.

"The poison was a sedative?" I continued. "So Anna dopes you, and then brings in her accomplices to sneak you out of the Palace. You would still be Rodrigo Borgia - still Pope. But after you disappeared... wouldn't the Cardinals assume that you were dead? They would elect another pope, wouldn't they? And it wouldn't be you... though you would still be the

real

Pope."

- "He... he wouldn't dare."

- "Admiral Colenso? He's the only one who

could

pull off something like this, isn't he? They've already murdered an ISEC agent. You need more bodyguards. And you

can't

let yourself be captured, or abducted."

- "I have bodyguards." he said.

- "But you need

me

. Miguel and the others only saw Will and Faraz briefly, and they've never seen Tasha or Teck himself. I have."

D'Onofrio studied me for a few moments.

- "By that reasoning,

you're

the one who needs bodyguards." he said. He was right: if Teck could eliminate me...

"We'll talk tomorrow."

***

"Do you like the role? Being Pope?" I asked him.

- "Are you kidding? I have more power and money than most men would know what to do with. Political intrigue, negotiations. And look around - fabulous art. I'm going to meet Botticelli. Da Vinci. Raphael. Michelangelo. Pinturicchio is painting my apartments right now. And there's Giulia Farnese."

- "Who's that?"

He smiled. "The most beautiful woman in Italy. My mistress."

- "Congratulations."

- "Damn straight." he said. "Plus I get to live twenty-five very intense years, and then go back to my body, only a month and a half older. Wait until you turn sixty - you'll see the attraction. But enough about me. Let's talk about you. What do you have to offer, Lieutenant Pilgrim?"

It was like a job interview. I had to sell myself.

- "I had good scores at AFOTA. Very good in UC - unarmed combat."

- "I

know

what UC stands for." he said. "What about AC?"

- "Also good. And I excelled in those at ISEC training camp, as well."

- "I can believe it. You have... physical presence. It's more than being big and looking tough. There's this... implied menace in your stance. In your posture. It's like you're prepared for a fight to break out at any moment. More than that - there's a look in your eye that suggests you'd positively welcome one. That could be useful to me. Having you nearby, to provide a little physical intimidation... but can you tone it down, if you have to?"

- "Yes, Your Holiness." I said, softly.

- "See? That - that's something Michelotto can't do. He's got the size, and the presence, but his expression gives him away every time. I don't always want the Cardinals to think that they're about to be murdered."

- "I was top 10 in tactics at AFOTA, Your Holiness." I had to get into the habit of calling him that - of

thinking

of him as that. "And tops in my class in psychology."

- "Really? So what made you switch to ISEC?"

- "The recruiter pointed out several... limitations in my career options if I graduated as an officer."

- "Ah. Money? Or birth?"

- "Both, Your Holiness."

- "Hmm. Alright, tell me about this cover story you cooked up. Michelotto and the others say that you're a Courlander?"

I explained it to him. He actually chuckled.

- "Clever. That's a great choice. Only a handful of people will have the slightest clue where that is, or know anything about it. Then later on, when they find out about it, they can pretend that they knew all along."

- "Miguel knew that it was in the Baltic."

- "He's smarter than he looks. Many people underestimate him."

- "I agree."

- "Alright, Pilgrim. Closing arguments. What do I do with you - and why? Make it good."

Job interviews. Don't imagine for a moment that the person(s) interviewing you have read your resume - they haven't. Proceed on the assumption that they haven't been paying attention - don't be afraid to repeat yourself.