– What is the game about?

– Star wars.

I pad to the man, the steps to the throne are made of crystal: it's very slippery and damned uncomfortable.

– Hey, human race savior! – I tap the player on the shoulder.

The man straightens on the throne, the miser man's tears well in his eyes.

– Deneb! – he orders. The screen flashes, the officer appears on it, the number of his decorations close to our player's. – Colonel! Move the squadron to the Sol's orbit!

– But Emperor, our planet is defenseless…

– The main thing is to retain the cradle of the human race! – speaks the Emperor abruptly.

The colonel nods, suffer on his face:

– Your order will be fulfilled, Emperor!

I block 'Emperor's' view with my hand. Maybe he doesn't see us? But the man pushes my hand aside and mumbles:

– Interference… communication unreliable…

Oh Gosh! Just see how did I find some work for myself suddenly… Deep-psychosis at its height. The man just doesn't WANT to see us – this wouldn't fit into stereotypes of the simple strategic game he's so deep into.

– How to exit? – I shout, – Exit!

He outstretches his hand, pushes some button. He doesn't take us by consciousness, but unconsciously he's ready to do everything to get rid of 'interference'. His movements are limp and unsure: at least 24 hours in the Deep. The door rumbles behind my back, opening.

– What's the matter with him? – asks Unfortunate.

– Deep psychosis.

I turn back to the door, we must hurry: 'Warlock' must have left some traces, they will be detected sooner or later while the poor Emperor's timer is on most likely.

– Are we leaving? – asks Unfortunate.

Yes, I did break the Diver's Code when using weapon against Anatol and Dick but I'm diver anyway, the Deep's guardian. Who will do it if not me?

– Vika! – I command.

– Lenia? – the voice of Windows-Home is dull and muffled, the machine is overloaded and doesn't have any more strength for goodies.

– The standard set of gear.

Pause, a very long one – then the pockets start feeling heavy with load.

I rip off the remains of the overalls from me – was it tattered in the fall through mirrors? – and stay in the Gunslinger's costume, I wrap the lash carefully and it turns into a belt again.

– What are you gonna do? – Unfortunate is curiosity itself.

– Drag him out!

Now I need to intercept the comm channel that connects the player with his computer at home, then to break the security system, hardly it's too complicated – obviously the guy is a typical 'newbie'. Then I'll have to either run the exit deep-program or to just nullify the timer.

I take sunglasses from the left pocket and put them on, the darkness is almost complete, just one sparkling orange winding thread at the base of the throne can be seen. Here it is, his channel. I look around the room and see my own navel-string, scattered on the floor in rings and disappearing in the tunnel gnawed through by 'Warlock'. That's bad, it means we haven't connected to the player's server but entered from nobody knows where. My channel now may circle through the different continents, jump up through satellites, slide along fiber optics along the ocean floor… Too many spaces have we passed on our way from "Labyrinth"… and they are still near: I can see flashes of light in the tunnel, dimming pieces of threads fall from it from time to time.

And there's really no signal coming from Unfortunate, or there is but too well hidden for my simple scanner: just a dark silhouette watching me working.

There's a little metal box in my right pocket, I open it – a sparkling emerald beetle lies on the soft padding, moving his paws. I pick him up, he tries to break free aiming at my own channel. Oh no pal, not there…

I put the beetle at the throne base and step back. The beetle freezes for a moment quivering his head, then dives into the orange thread.

Now we'll wait and hope that there's only a standard antivirus set installed on the Emperor's computer.

– Who?

For a moment it seems to me that I hear Unfortunate's voice: just as smooth and unemotional, but when I turn around, it's four of us in the hall already… if to consider the 'Emperor' as a real events' participant. The glowing white thread is hanging from the tunnel, a long writhed figure on its end. Its contours are distorted, movements are jerky and erratic. The guy looks around but hardly can he see what's going on. Lord, from what distance have he fallen from, how could he survive the tunnel journey? Well done 'Warlock', nothing I can say…

– None of your business! – I growl as aggressively as I can. If the anonymous is just a common Net user he won't be able to hinder me. But the guest obviously doesn't like my reaction, he outstretches his hands and flexible glowing cord starts crawling towards me. Not to me to be exact but towards my channel.

Very funny. Nobody could make such situation on purpose – to drag I-don't-know– whom out, starting to rescue an idiot with deep-psychosis half-way, and on top of that all to bump into a hacker with a set of service programs.

At least good that his channel is extremely narrow, barely alive. I take and pull on 'gloves', grab the cord and tie it in a knot, then advise:

– Fuck off. I'm diver.

Usually this works instantly, but the guest either considers himself the coolest in the Deep or doesn't believe me.

– Whoever you are, even Papa Carlo! – he replies.

{ Papa Carlo – the character that substituted Gepetto in Russian retelling of 'Pinocchio' done by Alexei Tolstoy. Mentioning Papa Carlo as a Very Important Person in a talk bears a stressed sarcasm. } The second cord is faster and tries to squirm from my hands, small clips grow on its end. I catch the cord almost by my very channel and squeeze it with pleasure. The 'gloves' knock the program down without a hitch. I wish I could do the same with the 'guest', but the gloves won't work here and I'm too reluctant to use 'Warlock': it works way too powerfully, I even didn't expect such an effect. Also Unfortunate circles around the hacker, having lost all interest in me. The former doesn't notice him, obviously looking through the scanner too, seeing the comm channels only.

– Look, what do you want? – I ask, adjusting to the guest's vocabulary,

– I'm working!

– Me too.

The wooden voice of the guest irritates but it's a miracle that I can hear anything at all: his channel's thread is thinned to its limit, the figure starts quivering, the head rolls at its side, the nose slides on his cheek but the hands become longer for that. The view is amusing and my anger disappears.

– Listen you freak… I'll have to drag you out too some day! Get off, the 'newbie' might croak!

Finally he understands that it's serious, he stops pursuing my channel but gets something like a flashlight instead and casts a beam on the 'Emperor'. Some semi-active scanning program. Let him watch, there's nothing secret in my methods.

– The customer's system under control. – whispers Windows-Home.

It's impossible to tell beforehand how will the insides of the other computer look like if one looks from the Deep, so I prefer the simplest way. I nudge the 'newbie' – he rolls down from the 'throne', sits on the floor clumsily. I take his place, take 'gloves' off and grab the orange thread with bare hands, pulling it.

– Vika, terminal!

The screen unwraps before me. A-ha… "Virt-navigator", a nice operating system but the one intended for somebody with an instinct of self-preservation, not for the 'newbie'– experimentator. It's a penny deal to turn off the timer on it.

And so this loser ruler of the galaxy did… he have already spent 28 hours in virtuality!

I'm too lazy to mingle with the timer, so I just find the urgent Deep exit file and run it. Deep program doesn't submit at once, asks for confirmation. And they call it 'urgent exit'…