I looked at them with different eyes now. Quiet and clumsy, so amazedly happy. Doc was completely different, too. What a giant of a man. How was he even pulling this load?

"My wife and I, we sold our apartment and bought ten FIVR capsules with the money. I installed them in the hospice cellar. Our admin is human, too. He helped me hack them. This is all I can give these kids—one last chance."

"But how are they going to live here? They're only two or three years old! At least you could have chosen older bodies for them."

He squinted at me. "Would you be prepared to take their childhood away from them? I'm not even talking about the potential mental problems of a three-year-old in an adult's body. I'm only talking about their chance to have the happy childhood they've been deprived of. All they know is a chain of hospitals and operation theaters. I did my research. I know there're children here. Not many, a few, but they do exist and, more importantly, they do grow. Provided they want to, of course. So will my kids. Once they're fed up with being so small in a big world where they can't even reach the door handle, they'll start inching up. Where there's a will there's a way."

I wrinkled my forehead trying to grasp the enormity of what he'd just told me and all the potential scenarios it implied. I needed to decide what to do with the whole nursery. "But what about their names and stats? How did they manage to create their characters? And how are they going to choose their skills if none of them can even read yet?"

""Well, Sasha over there can. And Jana knows the alphabet and can count to ten."

My face must have turned crimson because he gave me a reconciling smile. "Calm down. Our admin has tweaked the settings allowing us to control the capsules remotely. I sat at the server computer helping them to generate their characters. I trusted my hunches to choose their classes. I chose the human race to limit any psychological discomfort. I deposited their characteristic points into endowment accounts until they reached level 100. By then, they will all learn to read."

I shook my head in confusion. "What endowment accounts? There was no such option available when I created my character."

He shrugged: lots of things that weren't available then are available now.

I rummaged through Wiki looking for the answer to this rather vital question. I quickly located the section I needed and started reading. And once I'd read enough, I couldn't help swearing.

For some reason, the AlterWorld admins had limited the number of upgrades to a bare minimum and switched their focus to non-gaming initiatives: things like offline activities, gaming merchandise or more initial character-generating options. The bank service mentioned by Doc fell into the latter category and was now aggressively marketed as a hardcore pro option for those who've outgrown standard gaming challenges and were quite prepared to put their balls on the table today for a vague promise of potential future bonuses.

Now they could save some of their characteristic points and store them in a bank until reaching the level of their choice. The level number was the actual percentage bonus. For instance, if you banked 10 points for the duration of 20 levels, you earned yourself +20%, pocketing 24 points. Not much but still. Naturally, it made starting off that much more difficult so a money injection was a must. But he'd blocked all their points till level 100!

"Doc, tell me you only banked the starting 25 points."

He shook his head. A bad premonition clutched at my heart.

"All of them, level 1 to 100. Call it a junior savings account, if you want. I ran a simulation, and the dividends were mind-blowing. And most importantly, it'll prevent the kids from making stupid mistakes like investing everything they have in useless agility."

I groaned. A hundred levels without any growth! Potentially, it gave them a monumental advantage: about 350 free points to play with. But how were you even supposed to ever get to them? You could easily get stuck for life somewhere at level 30. It was too obvious the Admins had come up with a nifty way to milk millionaire players forcing them to inject real money simply to keep their handicapped chars in game.

One of the kids waddled toward us. He had the most piercing blue eyes. "Doctor, can I have a puppy too? Sasha won't share his with me."

Doc nodded, pointing at the Temple doors. "Go through that big gate over there past the big toothy men with spears. Inside there'll be a big bald doggie. Ask her to give you a puppy."

The boy waddled off. I knitted my brows in disbelief. "She won't!"

"Oh, yes. The Hounds are all emos. They don't sense any threat in the children. I believe they view them as puppies."

Still, I had my doubts. "I'd rather we went there and kept an eye on them. I don't want the Hell Hound to scare the boy into becoming the first virtual stutterer."

He shrugged. "Go ahead, then. I have to admit I'm afraid of them myself. When they see me—the Hounds I mean—they start shaking. They line up and bare their teeth at me. They can probably sense all those thousands of graves behind my back."

His gaze glazed over. Stooping, he stared into space. I had to shake him back to life before it was too late.

"Doc, wake up! What's wrong with you, man? You've finally got the chance to save a good dozen kids! This isn't a hospice any more! This is somewhere totally different!"

He seemed to have bucked up a bit. His eyes brightened up. Reaching out, he caught a tiny girl running past, her clothes generic, her eyes beaming with joy. He tousled her hair and let her go. Laughing happily, the little mite ran off to chase a butterfly. The children seemed to be perking up. Their voices grew louder, their laughter more frequent.

"Okay, Doc. Yours is a holy cause. I'll do what I can to help you."

He shrugged. "You will, no question about that. Accept them into your clan, enter them onto your books and let's start raising them. If this year we manage to digitize two or three hundred, then my life is complete. No matter how long I live, I'll never do something as good as this.

I shrank back. "Doc, what are you saying? What clan? These are Dead Lands! This is the Valley of Fear, not some Little Lambs Nursery! These children need saving, I agree. But we need to do it collectively, all of us—not drag this millstone all by ourselves! We could buy a house in the city or introduce some kind of non-mandatory tax for the clans."

Doc forced a smile. "Didn't you say that this was the safest place for your clan members? Go ahead, then, grow the new generation of AlterWorld denizens. My wife will soon move here permanently to join our daughter and her friend. I'm laying the groundwork now with some of the parents. I'm sure that after the initial shock of losing their child, then realizing that it's alive and well even if unreachable, many of them will be able to understand and help us. Some financially, others might go digital themselves.

"Doc!" I groaned. "In another three months this place may be sheer hell. It's war we're looking at!"

He stared at me, uncomprehending. "Who would dare attack a children's home? On the contrary: they're the best guarantee of the castle's safety."

I shook my head. "What planet are you from? When did it stop big kids from trampling the little ones' sand castles when they ran around playing at war? Also, I'm not some scumbag to hide behind toddlers' backs."

Lena came out of the Temple gates leading the boy who was already clutching a puppy to his chest. She clapped her hands, attracting the others' attention,