Changing Masks Read online

  Changing Masks

  Whirlwind

  Nicholas Metelsky

  Translated by Olga Cotey

  Copyright © 2017 LitHunters Ltd. (http://lithunters.com)

  All rights reserved.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this ebook with another person, please purchase another copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this ebook and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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  Contents:

  Contents:

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Epilogue

  Book Recommendations:

  Prologue

  'Greetings! This is the Messenger speaking. The Messenger is a product of Artificial Intelligence: it does not have its own will; there is no contact telephone number; it does not answer questions; it is impossible to contact the sender. It is nothing more than a message… a message you can choose to listen to or not.

  ‘A while ago, our world suffered a tragedy. It doesn’t matter what happened exactly. What is important is that we had to take action. We had to act quickly and categorically, not only in relation to the inhabitants of our world, but in relation to the world itself.

  ‘We conducted a controlled explosion of the interworld substance — erhaya. The consequences for our world will not interest you, but the consequences for the surrounding worlds you have already experienced for yourself. There was no actual blast wave, but the distortions in space affected the neighboring worlds. Only humans were affected and even then very few — only those whose physical connection to the world was minimal. The wave from the explosion could be compared to a draft that blew a piece of paper off the table leaving the heavier objects undisturbed. Two to four people suffered in each of the nine worlds affected by the wave distortion. However, only you were thrown out of your world as a disembodied spirit.

  ‘The chances of the wave hitting you were one in three billion, your soul being disembodied, one in eighteen billion, your survival, one in two million. It is difficult for us to judge whether you were lucky or not, because we don't know whether you were happy there. According to the Messenger, there is fifty-two dimensions inhabited by various different creatures, and all that is just a small part of one world that never even had a theory of inter-world travel; so, unfortunately, you will not be able to return home.

  ‘The world in which you find yourself now is a product of techno-chemical and energetic-magical developments. In the process of developing external energy, the people here have often intersected with magic-related dimensions, but, having once chosen the techno-chemical path, they have not forgotten their past. Technologically speaking, this world does not dominate yours; in fact, in some ways, it’s weaker. However, its history has seen events that, whilst only slightly affecting the Earth, have produced the need and means for development in some areas far ahead of your own civilization.

  ‘Although very different in detail, this place is similar to your home-world in more general ways. The purpose of this message is not to give you a reference book. Nor does it determine the level of your sanity. It's not even meant to provide you with a starter pack for living in this new world. Our message is an apology, perhaps, an apology you could do without.

  ‘We sincerely apologize for what happened. We had no choice. The future of the entire world depended on our actions. The lives of twenty-three people, six of whom survived, are not worth an entire world. Forgive us if you can…' At that, the young Japanese woman in a blue yukata bowed and melted away like a ghost.

  Chapter 1

  'Sin-tya-ah-an!' What a pest! She's got a nerve calling me that in public. When we were alone or at home, I stopped paying any attention to it, but in public, her mannerisms drove me mad. I couldn't show her how angry it made me because it'd put her on her mettle. Nor could I ignore it because then she'd get used to it. So, having painted a slight degree of displeasure on my face, I turned around.

  'Ah, Koyama-san, hello. Long time no see!'

  'Are you nuts, kid? Have you forgotten who woke you up in the morning and sent you to school?'

  'Ah-ah, so that's who was pestering me all morning. Well, sorry, I didn’t notice.' Smack! The skilled punch to the liver was not that painful, but still, unpleasant. It wasn't surprising. After all, Koyama Shina was very good at both attacking, and defending herself.

  'I wanted to wake you up. What if you missed something important?' Mmmk... What was really lousy was that you never knew when she'd strike and when she’d just ignore you. Basically, she was a child and a female — double trouble. Okay, Max, just calm down. She's just a child, a 17-year-old girl, who’s been studying martial arts almost since birth. Notably, this world has always been patriarchal; feminism was unheard of. Although at first glance, it didn't seem so, the women here were practically the property of the family or clan. The way Shina acted and thought in fact, did not change her good conduct or obedience to the will of her father or grandfather. That was quite normal. Although there were exceptions, they were most common in families where the men were spineless. That didn't concern me a bit though.

  By the way, I should probably introduce myself. My name is Max, Maxim Rudov, and I am that very same legendary inter-world traveler.

  'Well, what's your deal? Let's go! I don't want to be late because of you.'

  'Because of me, huh? Get out…' I whispered.

  'Excuse me, what are you muttering?'

  'I said, as you wish, my lady.'

  'That's right! Good boy!' Drawing herself up, she glided forward with aristocratic elegance.

  It's worth mentioning that this was the 6th of April, which meant it was the beginning of a new school year, and, hence, I was on my way to school. I was off to the first grade of Dakisyuro High School.

  High fences, which hid private mansions, rose up on both sides of the road. People were coming out of the gates, children and adults, men and women. Everyone was in a hurry. Meanwhile, I was trying to keep up with Shina ahead of me, thinking that it had been a bad idea to choose this school. The story of choosing the school is quite amusing.

  So, after graduating from middle school, I faced a dilemma: Should I continue with my education or not? Where would I go if I were to continue? Well, as I was living by myself without any parents, the choice was entirely my own. What happened to my parents and my life after they left is a long story. I'd say it was pretty epic, but more on that later. So, after I graduated from middle school, Shina's family, my neighbors, literally took me under siege. Every p
ossible technique of persuasion was used, from banal stories about the greatness of Dakisyuro as a scholarly institution to a dinner invitation to celebrate the founding of the school and, consequently, numerous re-told stories about its glorious history.

  It took me a while to understand what was going on, and why they were bothering at all until a certain incident occurred. That evening, Shina's mother, Koyama Kagami, invited me to join them for dinner. I had a feeling I knew how it would all end, but I couldn't refuse the kind-hearted woman (in fact, knowing this, the Koyama family often took advantage of my regard for them).

  The buildings on my street were standard private, two-story houses. I didn't know why, but the only decent-sized mansion on our street belonged to my neighbors. It was built in traditional, Japanese style with a lavish courtyard surrounded by a 7-foot-high stone fence. However, its height did not stop the Koyama sisters from easily overcoming the obstacle and coming round to mine and adding some spice to my life. Luckily, Shina, the eldest of the sisters, had stopped climbing the fence last year. Evidently, she finally realized that it was an inappropriate thing for a girl of her age to be doing. Too bad it didn't stop her from visiting me—she had found a whipping boy. I could not climb over fences, but that was not necessary. So, I stepped onto the porch and simply opened the gate that led to their residence of evil. Of course, I'm exaggerating, but the Koyama children were nothing less than demons.

  Passing the yard, I took off my shoes and left them at the genkane, a small, ten-inch-high stone stretching along the front of the building. Passing through the narrow veranda, I walked into the house.

  'Good evening, everyone,' I said, slightly raising my voice because there was no one in the hallway.

  'Shinji-i-i!' A scream from the depths of the house was replaced by loud stomping, and the 16-year-old ginger-haired prodigy made a running start, jumped up and threw her arms around my neck. 'Shinji, Shinji, I have finally mastered this terribly difficult technique, and now I can break bricks with my head!' What? Ah, yes, ‘spirit armor’. It's not really a technique. It's more of a skill practiced by military battle trainees — the ability to build a layer of energy around the body that gives protection and helps with attack at the same time.

  There are a plethora of techniques in this world and these are divided into four categories: martial arts, fencing, combat with blunt weapons and ranged weapons. The latter category also includes gunplay. The categories are divided into various sub-groups. For example, Koyama used the fiery hand-to-hand combat technique. There is also a shadow, ranged-weapon technique.

  As far as brick-breaking goes, that’s Mizuki's quirk. She’s Shina's younger sister. Shina could do the trick when she was only eleven. When Mizuki was adopted, it was the first thing her new sister showed her. It is not surprising that little ten-year-old Mizuki was shocked to the depths of her soul. Nevertheless, she was able to re-create the technique now, six years later, which made sense, because they began to train Shina at age five and Mizuki at ten. I often heard that the older sister Koyama was called a child prodigy, so, it all made perfect sense.

  'Mizuki, I am so happy for you, but don't you think your behavior might not be proper for a girl? Behaving like a little kid when you're 16... It, you know, raises some flags.'

  'What kind of flags?'

  'Well... That it's a little foolish. Think about it.'

  'Think about it,' she smirked. 'I couldn’t care less because you're not a stranger. You're almost a member of the family, so I can behave how I like.' Wow, what a pleasure!

  Koyama Kagami appeared in the entrance of the adjacent room, the mother of the family, smart, beautiful—an amazing woman.

  'Guys, wash your hands and go to the table.'

  'Coming, mom.' Mizuki unhooked herself from my neck and galloped off into the depths of the house.

  'Whatever you say, Kagami-San,' I replied bowing in greeting. 'You look perfect as always.' A compliment to a woman is never excessive: it's no hardship for me and it makes her feel good.

  'Oh, Shinji, you womanizer. You are way too young for all that! Quickly, go wash your hands.' Walking into the living room, I smiled: the tokonoma, an alcove in the house, which had previously housed a TV, now showcased a pot of Japanese Sago Palm, aka Cycas. On the central wall hung a black-and-white drawing depicting some men and the leaves of the same palm tree. Just for your information, the mascot of Dakisyuro High School is a palm tree, palm tree leaves to be exact, which are a

  the symbol of winners.

  About ten minutes later, when the first hunger was satisfied, Koyama Kenta, a stout 69-year-old man, Shina's grandfather and the head of the family, finally started on the meat and potatoes.

  'Shinji, have you made up your mind about high school?' The old man Kenta scrutinized me.

  In fact, I had long since decided that I was going to high school because it was a requirement for legalization but certainly not to the same school as Shina. However, I could not tell Shina's relatives that. That's when I made my mistake. There are a dozen reasons for wanting to go to a different school, but I chose the worst possible answer:

  'Yes, I've made up my mind. I’ve thought about it a lot and have decided that I’m done with school.'

  'What's your reasoning behind this decision, if I may ask?' A smile flashed across the grandfather's face. 'You know well enough that continuing your education is very important.'

  'Same old, Kenta-San, the same reason as others have: I simply don't have the money to pay for school.' My money situation was not that bad at that time, but the old man didn't need to know that. Consequently, he couldn't take me on that. 'So I decided it'd be better for me to find a job.'

  'Well, in that case, it's a done deal. Be ready for admission to Dakisyuro High School, Shinji.

  'Wha..?'

  'If, as I understand it, money is the only problem, then don't worry, the money will be there,' the old man smiled. Hmmm, I see. So, that’s what it's all about. It turned out that they simply pitied me! I wasn’t particularly proud. On the contrary, when I had bad days, I swallowed my pride and accepted overly frequent invitations to lunches or dinners. When Kagami-San brought me various tasty meals so that I wouldn't live off noodles alone, I smiled and thanked her. But everything has its limits, and even my pride sometimes started to rebel.

  'Kenta-San, I'm very grateful for your thoughtfulness, but I have to say no. I cannot accept your help.' I could barely contain myself from exploding and doing something foolish. 'I ... do not need ... This is it—no.' Thanks, but no thanks.

  I was itching to do or say something vicious or sarcastic, be a smart aleck, or even throw chopsticks on the table and silently walk away— somehow demonstrate my attitude to the situation. The difficulty was in the fact that in my past life, I wasn't used to hiding my feelings. No, I knew how to control them and hide them, if necessary; that much I had learned. Nevertheless, I was a Destroyer rather than a common spy, and my main specializations were power and strength, which at a certain stage of my development had advanced to a considerable level. I had no reason to hide my emotions because I had my powers.

  Given my nature, to many, I came across as an unpleasant individual, but even my bosses tolerated me because they knew that people liked me — and they’re experts — I knew what subordination was, and I would not betray them. Even after meeting my future wife, nothing changed. Sveta loved me for who I was. So, it took some effort for me to calm down, that is, just sit still and ignore it. After all, my anger was not that strong and I quickly crushed it. I just wanted to do something out of spite.

  Fortunately or unfortunately, I didn't have time because that’s when the most interesting thing happened. The old man Kenta clearly was not going to give up. The pause that followed my words did not last long, just a couple of seconds.

  'Hmm, Shinji…' The grandfather was calm as a millpond, which gave me the impression that he had planned the whole conversation. 'I never said that we'd pay for your schooling. Your parents will.'
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  This requires an explanation. The thing is that I was living alone. My parents did not leave so they could work in another city or abroad. They did not die in a car accident. They were not in jail—nothing of the sort. They had abandoned me when I was ten. I arrived in this world when Shinji, the kid whose body I borrowed, was eight years old.

  I woke up in the morning and couldn't find the parents. I didn't even realize I had been abandoned. Even two days later, I had no idea. I procrastinated about going to the neighbors. Who knows what could have happened, I thought. If something bad happened to them, I'd have had a visit from the police or social services. What would you have done? Anyway, leaving a little kid at home alone for two days, well, it’s just too much. So, on the third day, I decided to go to our neighbors.

  While I was putting on my jacket, I found a note in the inside pocket. Needless to say, it was from the parents. It said that they'd gone abroad and advised me to go to the Koyama neighbors, who would help me. All of a sudden, I felt hurt, not for myself, but for the guy whose body I had borrowed. The first time I read the note, it just wouldn't sink in. My brain refused to comprehend the information. I knew in my mind that there was a lot of dirt in the world. In my previous life, in another world, I had faced all sorts of madness, and every time, I was blown away by it. I struggled to understand how such a thing was possible. I just couldn't get it. How could they abandon their child, leave him alone in the house, when he was just ten years old? To say nothing of the note they had shoved into the inside pocket of my jacket. It was ridiculous. Would it have been so hard to leave it on the coffee table in the living room? As ... ahem, a former father, I did not understand what could possibly have been going on in their heads.

  It's bull. After reading the note, I pondered what to do. On the one hand, going to the neighbors and telling them everything sounded a reasonable thing to do. I couldn’t care less where I lived, with the boy’s so-called parents or with their relatives. On the other hand, all my previous life, well, most of it, I had lived according to the motto: stay under the radar. Be like the others, and nobody will notice because when something goes wrong, and you are right there, problems are guaranteed. That's how it was when I worked for the Government and afterwards—especially afterwards. Of course, not everything out of the ordinary brings problems with it, and in my case, most likely nothing bad would have happened. There was just one 'but.' I was not from this world. Reflecting on the Messenger's words about different dimensions and inhabitants, would it not be better to be safe than sorry? During the two years that I had lived here, I had not heard anything about the dimensions or their inhabitants. However, according to the Messenger, these things existed and I had no reason to doubt it. The unknown creatures must either be hiding or were being hidden. It's entirely possible that the local Government was aware of it and knew how to identify outsiders. What they did with them, God only knows. Notably, I was only ten and could not defend myself.