Aces High (Reality Benders Book #6): LitRPG Series
Author: Michael Atamanov
Date: 2020-05-29 04:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Science Fiction; Fantasy; Fiction; Space
Description: To be on a starship that's just sustained serious damage in a space battle including losing its thrusters and find yourself in a totally different galaxy... You might think that would be cause for panic or, at the very least, despondency, right? Not at all! Gnat maintains optimism, gradually gets his space frigate back in working order and even finds upsides to what happened. On top of that, there's never a dull moment - both in the virtual game and the real world Gnat finds himself at the very epicenter of the great space-faring races' interests, though he does not understand why they're payi
Publisher: Magic Dome Books

Aces High

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a novel
by Michael Atamanov

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Reality Benders

Book#6

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Magic Dome Books

Reality Benders

Book #6: Aces High

Copyright © Michael Atamanov 2020

Cover Art © Vladimir Manyukhin 2020

English translation copyright © Andrew Schmitt 2020

Published by Magic Dome Books, 2020

All Rights Reserved

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

This book is entirely a work of fiction. Any correlation with real people or events is coincidental.

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Table of Contents:

Introduction. Long-Term Plans

Chapter One. In an Alien Galaxy

Chapter Two. Ancient Laboratory

Chapter Three. Witness of the Past

Chapter Four. Discipline Lesson

Chapter Five. Failed to Leave

Chapter Six. Playing Tag

Chapter Seven. An Important Conversation

Chapter Eight. New Home

Chapter Nine. Voluntold into War

Chapter Ten. Primus Inter Pares

Chapter Eleven. Insurgents and Plans

Chapter Twelve. A Hatchet in Space Battle

Chapter Thirteen. Going Home!!!

Chapter Fourteen. An Old Debt

Chapter Fifteen. A Mission of Epic Difficulty

Chapter Sixteen. The Embodiment of Absolute Evil

Chapter Seventeen. Big Interview

Chapter Eighteen. Duel

Chapter Nineteen. Set a Course for Earth!

Chapter Twenty. The Solar System

Chapter Twenty-One. Out of the Game and into the Real

Chapter Twenty-Two. Terrestrial Affairs

Chapter Twenty-Three. Instructor of the Army of Earth

Chapter Twenty-Four. The Army of Earth

Chapter Twenty-Five. Shock Is How We Do Things!

Chapter Twenty-Six. An Offer that Cannot be Refused

Chapter Twenty-Seven. Ultimatum

Chapter Twenty-Eight. A Nighttime Conversation

Chapter Twenty-Nine. Safe Haven

Chapter Thirty. Gnat on a Rampage

Chapter Thirty-One. Uline’s Wedding

Chapter Thirty-Two. The Price of Freedom

Chapter Thirty-Three. Three-Barbed Parasites

Chapter Thirty-Four. To Kill Fox

Chapter Thirty-Five. It Has Begun!

Addendum. Crew list of the frigate Tamara the Paladin

About the Author

Introduction. Long-Term Plans

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Planet Urmi II, ancestral homeworld of the Miyelonian race

Star City, capital of the Union of Miyelonian Prides

Western Shrine of the Great First Female

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“ALL LEADERS are present, the assembly may commence,” the maidservant whispered to her preoccupied mistress and, after she finished combing the magnificent pearly white fur of the Great Priestess, collected her implements and swiftly departed.

Amiru U-Mayaoo, who Miyelonian society believed embodied the incarnation of their Great First Female with her wisdom and flawless feminine beauty, stood unhurriedly from her chair in a dignified manner. She first took a long attentive survey of the traditional meeting place of the Miyelonian rulers to personally make certain all twenty-seven glowing holograms were in position around the perimeter of the round dais she was perched atop. Yes, all the rulers were present and in the right place.

“Respected pride leaders, I have called this assembly to discuss two important topics which directly pertain to the interests of our Miyelonian race,” Amiru U-Mayaoo started her speech with the well composed tone of an experienced orator. “First of all, via official diplomatic channels, I have received a message from the leaders of our Meleyephatian enemies. In essence, the message consists of an ultimatum with a healthy dose of threats. The Meleyephatian Horde says that it will cease interstellar expansion in all directions and transfer all its combat starships to the area of the military conflict with the Miyelonian and Geckho races.”

The Great Priestess listened as her audience gasped in surprise. Yes, something truly unbelievable had taken place: for the first time in the entirety of known history, the Meleyephatian Horde was no longer expanding through the stars and had brought its main combat fleet back from the edges of known space to deal with problems occurring far behind its back lines. And after all, ceaseless territorial expansion and the constant subjugation of ever more new races, whose living and productive resources were then merged into the Horde, were the very essence and philosophy of the Meleyephatians. Something truly unbelievable must have occurred to make the ghastly arachnid space invaders deviate from centuries’ old tradition.

“Have our troopers perhaps overwhelmed our ancient nemesis with their recent noteworthy victories and dealt them an unacceptable blow?” suggested Ayvi U-Mawoo, a pure white graceful Miyelonian female, the youngest of the three currently living incarnations of the Great First Female.

“As far as I know, no. The war was conducted strictly according to a plan approved by our strategists,” came the commander of the Fourth Star Fleet Keetsie-Myau, the most popular military leader among the rank-and-file. “Taking advantage of the fact that all of the Horde’s forces in the nearest sectors of space were tied up with the Geckho, all four of our fleets entered the war suddenly. The First Fleet captured twenty Meleyephatian stations and planets in its zone of responsibility without encountering particular resistance. The Second Fleet took sixteen. The Third twenty-two. And mine has taken another thirty-three stations from the Horde. For the Meleyephatian Horde, which controls forty percent of known space and thousands of star systems, such territorial losses are unpleasant but not exactly critical. We still have some margin before we reach the red line our analysts determined should draw elevated attention from the Horde. For the record, that would be one hundred thirty inhabitable planets. Obviously, the real reason the Meleyephatian Horde’s main fleet has returned must lie somewhere else entirely. Any suggestions?”

The Great Priestess was lost in admiration for the Fourth Fleet Commander’s speech. Keetsie-Myau was making impressive progress! As an orator, wise strategist, capable fleet commander and above all else as the ruler of one of the most powerful Miyelonian prides in the galaxy. Not all that long ago she was still young and naive, in no way distinguished other than her outstanding appearance and exorbitant ambition. But now Keetsie had become an experienced politician as well. And the fact she had recently been promoted to Kung in the game that bends reality confirmed these observations. This young female had gotten her surging hormones well under control, reined in her boy-craziness, which was gossiped about throughout the galaxy, and tamed her innumerable male admirers. Kung Keetsie-Myau was on the cusp of being elevated to Krong — the sole absolute ruler of the whole Miyelonian race.

And meanwhile, a cautious answer to the commander’s question came from the middle-aged Teerr-Miauss, sagacious head of the Miyelonian archive service:

“Perhaps the true reason for the return of the Meleyephatian main fleets is that they have sustained heavy losses. Rumors have been swirling that they were utterly eviscerated in the Aysar Cluster three tongs ago...”

“That is no longer just rumor,” the Great Priestess hurried to cut in. “That highly contested information has now been authenticated. A recent dispatch from a deeply embedded Miyelonian agent contained detailed data on the state of affairs in the Meleyephatian Horde. And in it we discovered evidence of a grand battle in the Aysar Cluster star system three tongs ago, which the Meleyephatians lost. And they suffered a no less gruesome defeat when they attempted a second attack.”

“Do we know who was able to put a stop to the triumphant march of the arthropod invaders?” came the commander of the First Star Fleet.

Amiru U-Mayaoo could have answered herself, but she redirected the question to the usually taciturn head of Miyelonian intelligence Kung Wauu-Miaoo, who was the best informed about the state of affairs in deep space. The gray-haired Miyelonian, who was known to have a distaste for public speaking, bristled his whiskers in dismay but nevertheless gave a detailed overview to the assembly:

“Yes, we do. It was Humans. A branch of that widely scattered race we were previously unaware of. As a matter of fact, we know extremely little for certain. The only definitive fact that has reached us is the identity of the fleet commander who blasted the Meleyephatian Horde’s stellar armada to atoms: a human woman by the name of Admiral Nicole ton Savoia. We have also heard the title and name of their ruler: Emperor Georg the First, although that is still unconfirmed. But in one way or another, the leaders of the Horde were severely frightened by the encounter with such a fearsome power and have ceased all active operations in that attack vector and all neighboring sectors. All Meleyephatian ships that were not destroyed have been recalled from the border and redeployed elsewhere. And that includes the ongoing war with the Union of Miyelonian Prides and the Geckho race.”

A long silence took hold. Everyone understood perfectly that, even after sustaining significant losses, the Meleyephatian fleet was still a very, very dreadful force. The coming of an enemy armada numbering in the thousands of starships to the local theater of combat would change the balance of power in an instant. The easy fast-paced war the Union of Miyelonian Prides thought it was engaged in would instantly transform into a bloodbath involving starship flotillas numbering in the thousands. Perhaps the very survival of the Miyelonian race would be at stake. No one wanted to let that happen.

“What is the Meleyephatian ultimatum in a nutshell?” Ayvi U-Mawoo inquired. “Are they demanding we return the star systems we have captured?”

The Great Priestess, who was better versed in military and political questions actually winced at her younger associate’s preposterous suggestion:

“Not at all. And who would voluntarily give up such rich spoils? The Meleyephatians understand that perfectly and do not demand the impossible. They have asked us only to relinquish just the comet Un-Tau — it is a place of religious pilgrimage for several nests of Meleyephatian renegades. They also want to conclude an official peace treaty with us for a duration of nine tongs. The Meleyephatian Horde has given us until the end of the day to reply.”

Everyone fell silent for a minute, thinking over what had been said. Finally, the commander of the Second Star Fleet Leng Raoo-Miayawoo — one of the most experienced and respected commanders of the Union of Miyelonian Prides — put in his word.

“At the outset, our race looked on this war as a convenient opportunity to take a bite out of a historic enemy’s territories unchallenged, slightly weakening the Meleyephatian Horde by the same token. We never saw it as a fully-fledged drawn-out conflict where we might face off against large Meleyephatian forces. That would increase our side’s losses by many orders of magnitude. My opinion: our objectives for this military campaign have been accomplished. We should exit the war.”

“That is my position as well,” Keetsie-Myau declared, after which the din from the other rulers instantly fell silent. “The Miyelonians are famed for the speed of our decision-making and the flexibility of our galactic politics. We saw a chance to grow stronger and we seized it. But the naïve, headstrong Geckho... to be honest, I actually feel a bit sorry for them!” The delight in commander Keetsie-Myau’s eyes made for a sharp contrast with the meaning behind her words. “Our predictable allies acted exactly the way we expected. They declared war, tied up the Meleyephatians’ forces and cleared the way for us. And now it is the Geckho who will bear the brunt of the war with the Meleyephatian Horde, which is now rallying from the surprise attack. And on top of that, as we are now finding out, the Horde will soon be sending the bulk of its forces to the front.”

Great Priestess Amiru U-Mayaoo was again taken with admiration for Keetsie-Myau. How the head of the Pride of the Sharp Claw had grown into a wise politician and earned the respect of the other rulers! Must be why the Commander of the Fourth Star Fleet was already officially known as ‘the Great One’ even though, under Miyelonian law, that honorific was technically out of reach due to her young age. Leng Amiru spent a bit more time waiting, but none of the assembled rulers contradicted the Great One’s position.

“Okay. Then I will answer the leaders of the Horde today that we accept their offer of peace unconditionally. The Union of Miyelonian Prides shall exit the war and sign a peace treaty for a duration of nine tongs. Miyelonian troops shall depart the Un-Tau comet in the next two or three ummi, while the remaining captured planets, stations and space settlements shall come under the legal dominion of our race.”

Having wrapped up the first issue of the day’s agenda, Amiru U-Mayaoo moved on to the second point:

“A reliable source has informed me of the discovery of a well-camouflaged mobile laboratory in space belonging to the ancient Relict race. What’s more, the laboratory is in working condition, is in fact still operating and is chock full of ancient devices, artifacts and technologies. I don’t imagine I’ll have to convince any of you that this laboratory is of great interest to Miyelonian science and must be delivered to a system under control of the Union of Miyelonian Prides at any cost.”

“Okay, what’s the catch?” the head of the Miyelonian archive service inquired. “What is so hard about towing the laboratory to any of our scientific stations and examining it there?”

“The difficulty consists in the fact, esteemed Teerr-Miauss, that this discovery in the words of MY source,” Keetsie-Myau emphasized the penultimate word, “was initially located in Meleyephatian space in the uninhabitable H9045/WE system then, by some inconceivable method, was instantly transported to a neighboring galaxy!”

The commander of the Fourth Star Fleet demonstrated an excellent awareness of the issue. Even the Great Priestess herself didn’t know all those details.

“Holy cow, null transport!” came the starstruck Azari Ur-Maya, head of the department of scientific research, joining the discussion for the first time. “Our scientists predicted that form of transport three hundred tongs ago, but no one has yet been able to make it work in practice. And after all, whichever race is first to adopt such a technology will come to dominate the cosmos!”

“One other difficulty,” the great Priestess rejoined the discussion, “is that the lost laboratory of the ancient race was not discovered by one of our research groups, but a mixed crew under a Free Captain containing members of all kinds of different races. And Miyelonians form a minority of the crew. Among the races present are Geckho, Meleyephatians, Humans, and even a Jarg. So I suspect all interested parties are already aware of the discovery. And soon, if we do not move first, the captain who discovered the valuable asset will be receiving offers from other players in the great game of galactic politics.”

“Move? By that do you mean purchasing the ancient scientific base before the captain has recognized its true value? Or...” the commander of the First Star Fleet made an evocative gesture, pretending to slit his throat with a sharp blade.

Both Amiru U-Mayaoo and Keetsie-Myau snorted derisively. The commander of the Fourth Star Fleet explained her skepticism:

“I have interacted with that Free Captain before. And so I can say in no uncertain terms: there’s no use deluding ourselves into thinking the captain might not be aware just what a valuable prize he has landed himself. He is aware and don’t you doubt it. And attacking such an experienced psionic discreetly, considering his well-developed danger sense, will not be possible. And another thing, if we do succeed in assassinating him, what would we do with the Relict scientific base then? Its security system’s artificial intelligence will only communicate with Relicts. And as far as I am aware, communication requires a rank of two or higher in the Pyramid hierarchy. Kill Leng Gnat and the security system won’t listen to anyone, leaving the priceless scientific station forever stranded in a distant galaxy. And to have the envenomated Leng Gnat as a personal enemy after he respawns without his precious discovery... at the very least it would irrational, given his Morphian has demonstrated an ability to reach even so far as Leng Amiru U-Mayaoo herself despite her innumerable guards.”

The Great Priestess shuddered at the unpleasant memory. Yes, the assassination plan had been coordinated in advance with her, but the way it happened came as a true shock to the seasoned Miyelonian regardless. Being gutted alive is an extremely nasty sensation!

“So, the Free Captain who found the laboratory is Leng Gnat? Yes, we have heard a great deal about that fortunate maverick...” the head of the Miyelonian archive service stroked the bridge of his nose thoughtfully with a clawed paw. “That captain is quite the extraordinary man! He works for Geckho Commander Kung Waid Shishish’s Third Strike Fleet and has already done quite a lot for him. But Leng Gnat’s sympathies for the Miyelonian race have been noted as well, and he has aided us on several occasions. Furthermore, he is an official enemy of the Meleyephatian Horde. My personal opinion: we must maintain amicable relations with the Free Captain, then Gnat will bring the sought-after Relict laboratory right into our paws. I have also laid eyes on a statement saying the human by the name of Leng Gnat has transferred his physical body to the Miyelonian station Kasti-Utsh III. That seems like a convenient excuse to have a heart-to-heart with him in the real world and come to an agreement.”

Before any of the assembled rulers could react, Keetsie-Myau shuddered:

“I’ll have a talk with Leng Gnat! In one way or another, he is my marriage dance partner. Furthermore, I publicly promised him a personal meeting, which I still owe him. I say this is the perfect time for me to make good!”

Chapter One. In an Alien Galaxy

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“AYUKH, YOU RESET only your age, not your proficiency and experience! You are still one of the greatest Navigators of modern times! What do you mean you ‘don’t know where we are?!’“

Sure, I was being pushy and demanding that my underling perform his duties — that was exactly how, to my eye, a true captain should have been behaving under such difficult circumstances. But it pained me to look at Ayukh. The rejuvenated Geckho’s expression was both impotent and desperate:

“But Leng Gnat, there’s nothing I can do! The on-board navigation system crashes when attempting to determine our coordinates!”

I winced involuntarily. My frigate’s navigation system was crashing? That was the last thing I needed... On top of the extensive damage sustained by the hull, the pressure loss in three sectors, the malfunctioning hyperspace drive, two busted laser cannons and the death of five crew members, we were now having problems with the navigation programs? Well, maybe we could fix the computer glitch then. Reboot the system, reinstall some programs or something... I asked the Navigator what the instructions said to do in this type of situation.

“Well you see, captain...” the Geckho inhaled a bit more air, fell silent and decisively squeezed out: “this scenario is not covered in the instructions! The navigation system tries all possible methods of determining coordinates at the same time. From sending basic long-distance queries to nearby beacons to estimating gravitational displacement, to computing the nearest spatial extrema and neutrino stream vectors. And the first thing it does is to evaluate all visible stars for unique characteristics in terms of light spectrum, class and mass and compares that with reference data! And none of the hundreds of thousands of visible stars,” Ayukh said, pointing his furry clawed paw at the screen, “can be found in the Geckho navigation reference guide! Even the data we uploaded from the more complete Meleyephatian maps is no help! I even tried using quasar vectors, although that is considered an extremely inaccurate and outdated method of space navigation. And the result it generated was not the least bit comforting. We must be very far from known space, and most likely are in a different galaxy altogether!!!”

The Geckho basically shouted the last part, and I could hear distinct notes of panic in my senior officer’s voice. After the Navigator’s explanation, I must admit, I somewhat lost courage. With my astonishing ability to land myself in all kinds of hot water, I was probably the only captain working who could step in a pile of shit this deep: to be in a different galaxy on a starship with no hyperspace drive! Although... even if my frigate’s hyperdrive was repairable, what good did that do us now? If traveling to a distant star within our same galaxy could take years, then returning home from a different galaxy altogether would take thousands, and maybe even millions of years! At least if things got truly dire, we could have the whole crew die and come back at our respawn point on Kasti-Utsh III. But we would be without the magnificent twinbody frigate and the invaluable mobile laboratory. We stood to lose everything, crushing all our hopes and dreams. And I risked a severe blow to my Authority and reputation as a lucky captain as well...

No, I needed to try something else — to figure out the hardware on the mobile laboratory that just warped us into this galaxy, study the Relict navigation maps and coordinate system, then calculate a jump back. Or just tell the laboratory’s security system to bring Tamara the Paladin somewhere close enough to a Geckho or Miyelonian station for us to get there using our surviving main and maneuver thrusters. However, the problem was that I had not been in contact with the station since the jump, and it would not respond to any of my attempts to reestablish contact.

Dmitry Zheltov, who I’d sent to the medical bay, returned to the bridge — our main Starship Pilot’s left shoulder was badly injured and, after I ran a scan on him, I started to suspect a fracture. But Dmitry stubbornly denied it — he said it was a just a little sore and would get better on its own. But based on the sling, my suspicion was on the mark.

“You were right captain, it’s fractured,” Dmitry told me with an embarrassed smile. “Our Medic Mauu-La ran a quick screen, injected healing nanites into my forearm and pushed me out the door saying to be cautious with my arm for the next three days. I am actually surprised the Medic treated me though. He’s very busy with the operation on our Miyelonian Translator. And it looks to be a complicated one, because he even took a Kirsan repair bot as an assistant. Gerd Ayni has been seriously wounded. I even heard a ghastly utterance to the Kirsan: ‘if we can’t get her vein’s working again, we’ll have to amputate both arms.’“

Yes, I knew the orange Miyelonian beauty had been very badly injured — after her sector was damaged in an explosion and lost pressure, she was carried out by Gerd Mauu-La himself. Amputating both arms... The thought made my skin crawl... If the healer’s frightening diagnosis were accurate, in Ayni’s place I’d prefer to be reborn in a healthy body at my respawn point on Kasti-Utsh III. By the way... I should send instructions to my four crew members waiting there. My business partner Gerd Uline Tar the Trader, Gerd T’yu-Pan the Shocktroop, Timka-Vu and Kisly the Machinegunners, and Avan Toi the Supercargo all perished in the space battle with the Meleyephatian flotilla and would have respawned on the Miyelonian space station by now. I turned to the Navigator, who was still pulling his fur out and pronounced in a clear commanding voice:

“Ayukh, quit your whining. Get yourself together and get back to work! Exit into the real world and get in touch with my first mate. Tell Uline Tar that she and the other respawned crew members should get on the next freight-passenger Shiamiru bound for Earth. She needs to get ready for her wedding there, and our two new interceptors there have to be fixed up and processed by the local spaceport. And anyway, why should she be wasting time puttering around on a Miyelonian station? We won’t be going back to the Kasti-Utsh system. We’ll be making straight for Earth... If of course, we can figure out how to get there...” I said the last part extremely quietly, more to myself so the other players on the captain’s bridge couldn’t hear.

Authority increased to 84!

Yes, I was making all the right moves! My team still believed in their captain and were counting on me to get them out of this debacle without having to do something as unpleasant as committing suicide to get back to the known part of the Universe. I was somewhat encouraged and used the radio to get in touch with our Engineer Orun Va-Mart who was leading the first repair brigade of eight players currently stomping around like elephants in spacesuits on the outside of the frigate. I was able to watch them from the cameras of the two Small Guard Drones, which were zooming around in the “bubble” under the laboratory’s forcefield.

The second brigade was led by Princess Gerd Minn-O La-Fin, and its objective was to clear debris from the damaged corridor near the cargo hold and make sure all residential berths were again filled with breathable atmosphere. And among the second repair brigade workers I had included Nefertiti. Yes! I was surprised to see it, but the NPC Dryad had not disappeared from the ship after the death of her husband Kisly the Machinegunner and, as if nothing had happened, at the very least for now, was continuing to exist independently of him. I had one possible explanation for the phenomenon, but I was in no rush to tell the others.

Orun Va-Mart answered instantly as if he was doing nothing but awaiting my call:

“Captain, our examination of the frigate’s hull has identified several breaches. So far, we’ve counted eight holes, all in the right fuselage. That is not counting the dislodged cargo hold and half of the right stabilizer. It will be possible to fix them with sealant, and we’re already doing so. But there aren’t enough tiles to repair the whole hull. I’ve already done the math. And the cargo hold will have to be fully removed — it’s nothing but a mess of twisted metal and not fit for further use.”

“Uh...” I decided to clarify an important aspect. “Will that throw our balance off, and make it so we can’t land on any planet with an atmosphere?”

The engineer’s bitter chuckle rang in my headphones:

“Captain, with such severe damage to the fuselage and missing stabilizers, you can forget about landing on any planets for the time being. Our bigger concern is getting the starship even slightly flyable...”

“I see,” I cut off the Engineer mid-sentence, not letting him spoil the mood of everyone listening to the common channel. “Is the shuttle in the hangar in good shape? I am planning to fly to the Relict laboratory. I need to go check things out over there.”

“The shuttle is fine,” Orun Va-Mart gave me hope, “but the station is just sixty-eight yards away. You could just ride a levitator or even take a jetpack.”

The Miyelonian was obviously using different numbers and units, but the game system was translating everything for me into units more familiar to the human ear. I just couldn’t get used to the amusing “autotranslations.” Every time they rang hollow. It was just so awkward to hear an alien using terrestrial units. In any case, the ancient laboratory was at an arm’s reach, and my highest priority mission was simply to visit the ancient site and figuring out how it ran — our chances of returning home were directly dependent on that.

Actually no... I did have one more important mission than visiting the ancient laboratory: to choose three new skills for my Gnat, given my character had just hit level one hundred. I opened the game menu and navigated to my statistics:

Leng Gnat. Human. Relict Faction.

Level-100 Listener

Statistics:

Strength

14

Agility

18

Intelligence

33 + 5

Perception

29 + 2

Constitution

17

Luck modifier

+3

Drones

2 of 3

Attention!!! You are entitled to a new Large Drone since yours was destroyed

Parameters:

Hitpoints

2178 of 2244

Endurance points

1305 of 1639

Magic points

1380 of 2061

Carrying capacity

62 lbs.

Fame

92

Authority

84

Skills:

Electronics

94

Scanning

67

Cartography

84

Astrolinguistics

100 * First specialization taken

Rifles

66

Mineralogy

60

Medium Armor

86

Eagle Eye

95

Sharpshooter

51

Targeting

53

Danger Sense

89

Psionic

110 * First specialization taken

Mental Fortitude

109 * First specialization taken

Machine Control

105 * First specialization taken

Mysticism

55

Attention!!! You have three unspent skill points.

Attention!!! You may learn three new skills.

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I TOOK IN THE FACT that I could get a new Large Relict Guard Drone to replace the one destroyed in battle with the Meleyephatian flotilla, although I didn’t yet understand how or where to place the order. But as for the first of the possible new skills, I had made up my mind a while ago: Telekinesis! A very useful ability for a magically endowed character, it allowed distant objects to be moved around at the expense of Magic Points. How many times had I run a scan and seen on the mini-map some lever or switch I needed to flip on the other side of a wall or other insurmountable obstacle, and not been able to do anything? Now, tasks like that would be a cinch!

You have taken the skill Telekinesis level 1.

Great! As a test, I tried to remotely turn on the tablet the Navigator had left on his desk when he left the game into the real world. Okay, that worked! Now to unscrew the seat of the unsuspecting copilot. Oh, what a surprised and even frightened face on San-Doon! Shouldn’t have been snoozing on the job!

Telekinesis skill increased to level two!

Yes, the first levels of all skills were quite easy to get. I’d have to work on Telekinesis today and get it up to ten at least, which would be no problem if I made active use of it. For the second of three possible skills then I chose Training:

Training. This skill gives accelerated experience gain for any action a character performs (+1% experience received for every skill level). Minimum statistics: Intelligence 20, Perception 15.

Some might object and ask why I was filling an invaluable slot with a skill that did nothing on its own and added no new abilities to my character. Still, be that as it may, something Meleyephatian Gunner Gerd Eeeezzz 777 said disturbed me and made me seriously think. Apparently, high-level players had a very hard time progressing after a certain point. Wasting two to three years of my life to get from, let’s say, 190 to 191... that would be unbearably long. And if I died even once in that time, I’d have to start over again from zero.

That was what made me deliberately and consciously choose the Training skill for my Leng Gnat. Yes, one might think at level one hundred I was nowhere near a beginner in this game and that, ideally, I should have taken the skill much earlier — way back at my Gnat’s first few levels. And maybe that was so. But I had different priorities and objectives back then, and levels were coming fairly quickly, without much additional effort or skill. But by level one hundred, the situation had become completely different and every new level was coming harder and harder. I was planning my character several years into the future and I needed to ensure constant forward motion throughout that time.

You have taken the skill Training level 1.

And as for the last skill, I wasn’t yet sure. There were lots of interesting possibilities. I’d have to weigh and calculate every possible consequence of my varied options. But then something happened that interrupted my calm contemplation.

The big furry Geckho Ayukh, frozen motionless in the Navigator’s seat... suddenly disappeared! The surprise even made me shudder. What the heck?! This is open space, a dangerous red zone even inside the spaceship, and avatars should not be disappearing when their players exit into the real world. Or... was this no longer a red zone? When I opened the game interface options, I did in fact discover that the category of this location had been changed to green, for safe! I didn’t understand what could have caused that, but other consequences of that change had already started rolling in. Our Medic’s voice, alarmed and even terrified, rang out over the loudspeaker:

“Captain, my patient has disappeared right off the operating table! I wasn’t done with her yet!” Gerd Mauu-La Mya-Ssa was in a near-panic.

“Say, Gerd Mauu-La, was Ayni in the game or had she exited into the real?” I clarified. And the healer answered that, back at the very beginning of the operation, he gave the woman leave into the real world — her game avatar should have stayed in the game regardless, while it would be both boring and senseless for a living player to spend an ummi lying on an operating table.

“I see. The game zone just changed to green. That’s why your patient’s body disappeared.”

“That is very, very bad!” the Medic was horrified. “Her body was hooked up to an artificial breathing apparatus, her chest was open, and several of her large veins and arteries had medical clamps on them. I’m afraid Gerd Ayni might not survive when she comes back into the game...”

My discussion with the Medic was interrupted by a surprised cry from Space Commando Eduard Boyko, who was among those working on the frigate hull in space:

“Captain! The Relict laboratory is opening!”

Every player on the bridge nestled up close to their monitors, which were showing video feeds from the frigate’s external cameras and the two Small Relict Guard Drones. And as a matter of fact, something strange was happening to the station: in the middle, very widest section, a few metal hull panels were coming apart to reveal seven apertures each five feet in diameter. From those seven deep tunnels there emerged long telescopic antennae-like outgrowths running in different directions. After that, the whole surface, which so recently seemed to be a monolithic thousand-foot-long spindle, went into motion. And all over the station, hull panels started spinning around on their axes, flipping color from silver to black.

“What is happening?” I asked the security system, not particularly expecting a response because the station had been flatly ignoring me for the last twenty minutes.

But this time I did get an answer, and it was fairly detailed. A few columns of text ran before my eyes:

“Listener, transport has been completed successfully and was not traced by the enemy’s automated security systems. Our new location has been deemed safe. Station exiting prolonged (here was a symbol I wasn’t familiar with, maybe ‘conservation’ or ‘dormancy’) mode and returning to operation. Area beneath forcefield filling with (here another incomprehensible word, but the meaning was ‘breathable’) air. Staff temporal capsule shutdown procedure initiated. Listener, prepare to appear before the station director!”

Chapter Two. Ancient Laboratory

––––––––

THE MESSAGE had long since disappeared from the screen, leaving me to stand and digest the information. I was about to meet a living member of the Relict race, awoken now after many long centuries of slumber! To be honest, I was feeling very anxious deep down. After all, I didn’t know how the ancient and probably very powerful entity would react when they realized that a member of a totally different race had taken it upon himself to refit and wear a Listener Energy Armor Suit with no authorization and was now posing as a Relict. The station director would almost certainly not be pleased to meet that impostor. Although... who really knew the psychology of this long-extinct race? Perhaps the Relict would in fact be so happy at the chance to return to active life after many thousands of years dormant that they would reward me with the knowledge and technologies of their kind? I’d like to believe that...

“Captain, it’s no longer a vacuum out here!” Space Commando Eduard Boyko’s voice tore me from my pensive state. “My barometer is reading zero point seven nine PSI and rising fast!”

“That’s to be expected,” I reassured Eduard and all the others. “I just received word from the Relict base that everything inside the forcefield is going to be filled with a breathable air mixture to prepare for the laboratory personnel to come out of suspended animation. That seems to also be the reason we now have a green zone here on the frigate. But don’t get ahead of yourselves, let your guard down and take off your helmets just yet. For starters we have to test whether the composition of the air mixture will be breathable to creatures other than Relicts.”

“Already checked, captain!” Gerd Mauu-La Mya-Ssa the Medic reacted at once. “The gas analyzer is showing oxygen twenty-five percent, nitrogen seventy-five percent. No toxic admixtures detected. That is just right for Miyelonians, but people and especially Geckho might experience mild oxygen intoxication!”

I figured our physician was being overcautious because slightly high oxygen concentrations were not the least bit problematic for humans. What mattered was that it would be possible to breathe. If, of course, the station was able to completely fill the entire bubble. We needed the pressure to be fifteen times higher at least. But when the atmosphere in the station and beneath the forcefield did become breathable, and the temporal capsules with the awoken personnel opened, I’d have a more serious problem on my hands: the station director and my required visit with him. I would not be able to refuse, I had to go. The shuttle could fit six players, and the right thing to do would be to show the Relicts right away that I had a mixed crew containing members of several races.

“Attention, team! The following crewmembers will be coming with me to the station: the Jarg, Eduard Boyko, Basha Tushihh, Tini and Eeeezzz 777. Do not bring heavy weaponry and overall, you are to be on your best behavior — we will be guests on the station, and uninvited ones at that. We meet at the shuttle.”

“Would you perhaps have any valuable advice for this important meeting?” I asked my spiny Analyst with hope. But the Jarg answered through the Universal Translator that, for the time being, he had insufficient information about Relict society to reach any conclusions. And at that (here I’m quoting the Jarg word-for-word):

“Nearest planet to us. Can be reached on thruster. Mass good for to live. Humans. Miyelonians. Geckho. Meleyephatian. Jarg. Construction colony under dome without atmosphere and get replacement part frigate. Suitable star. Lots of light. Plants can be grown. From emergency seed kit.”

I couldn’t tell if the Analyst was making a serious suggestion, or that was just Jarg humor. In any case I told him that colonizing distant planets was of course a challenging and honorable endeavor but, for whatever reason, I imagined my path in the game that bends reality somewhat differently.

Training skill increased to level two!

The pop-up message reminded me that I had yet to take my last possible new skill. It was of course a pity, but I would have to figure it out after meeting the director of the science lab.

My Gunner piloted the shuttle, and the Meleyephatian’s confident and professional maneuvers immediately made it clear he had a wealth of experience operating small vessels. I might have managed as well, because I didn’t see any challenges with steering the shuttle — it had just a simple yoke and one lone button to activate the antigravity thruster. But I’d have spent three times as long turning and flying around all the spindles sticking out of the station that were now blocking our way. By the way, the laboratory itself had completed its transformation and was now three large spinning rings each five hundred feet in diameter, all strung onto a thousand-foot long axis. The station now was very reminiscent of the Mechanoid Spatial Cutter, though it was about fifty times larger.

“Over there! Look, they’re opening an airlock for us!” Basha Tushihh pointed to a triangular gap that had just appeared in the station’s hull.

Eeeezzz 777 turned the yoke rakishly which made the shuttle spin on its axis while turning, fitting us snugly into the little hole.

“Internal airlock № 4. Before opening door to laboratory interior, make certain the pressure has equalized!” read a faintly visible message on the metal wall in Relict symbols.

I didn’t recognize all the glyphs, but I guessed the unknown ones practically immediately. Maybe my Relict language level was high enough to do that, or maybe it was evidence of my first perk in Astrolinguistics, which allowed me to comprehend the written word at an accelerated rate.

Scanning skill increased to level sixty-eight!

Also, I activated the Scanning icon automatically so I would know what my group could expect behind the still closed doors. There was a short corridor there and, behind it, some kind of hub from which you could enter a central tunnel that pierced straight through the whole station.

“The artificial gravitation has turned on,” Tini said aloud, although every one of us could already feel it.

We came out of the shuttle and stopped in front of a locked door. A minute passed, then another. Nothing changed the whole time. Then I saw a message on the internal surface of my helmet:

“Listener, we are experiencing technical difficulties. One of the power circuits has failed to activate. You may enter the station through airlock № 3 or wait until the technician awakens to rectify the malfunction and open the door from the inside.”

What? The Relicts, who my contemporaries considered just about the height of technological sophistication, also suffered technical issues just like humans? I couldn’t hold back the smirk and told my companions:

“The station security system is saying there’s some kind of malfunction, the doors aren’t opening. It says we should either wait for the technicians to awaken or go a different way. I don’t want to get back in the shuttle though... Tini, try and open the door with your usual methods. Actually... Wait a second! I see the problem.”

Telekinesis skill increased to level three!

Machine Control skill increased to level one hundred six!

I didn’t even know which of my abilities had forced the button on the other side of the wall to go down, stuck after thousands of years of inactivity. Maybe a combination of Telekinesis and Machine Control, given the game system gave them both a boost. Regardless, the metal door slid silently downward and we stopped in the doorway, peering into the dark and illuminating the walls with our flashlights. Seemingly the station personnel had yet to emerge from their slumber, given the lights weren’t even on.

And then I felt the floor go out from under me! I had to quickly turn on my magnetic boot soles, but that didn’t help one bit — as it turned out the floor was made of ceramic or plastic, and my spacesuit boots wouldn’t stick at all. I was saved from an awkward flight in weightlessness by Eduard Boyko, who managed to grab his floating captain by the foot. The Space Commando himself had turned on his antigravity jetpack and was using it to govern his position in space.

“No lighting. Artificial gravity has failed. Is this supposed to be happening?” I asked the artificial intelligence, already expecting a negative response.

“Listener, we are currently experiencing power supply issues. Not all circuits are receiving power. Opening the station has discharged the batteries, which turned out to have critically low power. Below projected figures. There is not enough power to activate the subatomic reactor. Possible cause: long downtime or long-distance jump. Finding solution.”

For the second time in a short while, my opinion of the Relict race’s technological sophistication took a serious blow. Although it was probably naive to expect all the equipment to be working perfectly after tens of thousands of years inactive. By the way, I caught a familiar term in the security program’s response — “subatomic energy reactor.” Was that not the same kind of power supply required by the Mechanoid Spatial Cutter?

Just to be safe, I asked:

“Should I wait for a technician? Or can I fix it myself?”

But no answer followed. We stood around for a bit and headed down the corridor, trying to walk cautiously because the gravitation was kicking on and off repeatedly. Soon we reached the central hub I’d seen on the diagram. The beams of our flashlights pierced through the darkness, revealing Relict symbols blanketing the walls. I read the text and immediately translated for my companions:

“Residential unit two... First circle... Space observation lounge... Pyramid contact hall... Long-term contemplation room. I wonder what that could be? Archive? Office?”

“Maybe the bathroom?” Eduard Boyko suggested an option, and the unorthodox explanation gave me a big laugh.

The gravitation flipped off yet again and, for a second, the lights even flickered — seemingly the station’s programming was still trying to get the power supply back online. But again to no avail. A new message came in right after that:

“Listener, your location on the map is not being accurately assessed. Seeking possible cause of positioning error.”

“No, it is correct!” I assured the security system. “I opened the locked door of airlock number four and have entered the station.”

Danger Sense skill increased to level ninety!

A premonition of terrible misfortune pricked my chest. I must have just made a crude error and lost the security system’s trust. Most likely, it was extremely out of character for Relicts to break into places and enter restricted areas without permission. A troubling pulsating message appeared on my helmet screen:

“Listener, state your hexadecimal identification code at once or you will be terminated! Seven. Six. Five. Four...”

Well god damn! I didn’t wait for the countdown to end. I didn’t want to know the potential consequences I might suffer for disobeying the order. Instead I quickly took my Prospector Scanner out of my inventory. Not fussing around with the settings (I just couldn’t be bothered), I took out a Geological Analyzer tripod and unfolded the metal legs just as the countdown reached “two.”

Scanning skill increased to level sixty-eight!

Another bout of weightlessness and awkward tumbling down the dark corridor. But this time everyone took off except for the Meleyephatian Gunner, who had splayed his appendages and propped himself up on the walls. The Jarg clumsily somersaulted right in front of me, a six-legged armadillo in a space suit glimmering in the beams of our flashlights. After that, the Space Commando slammed into me in his heavy exoskeleton armor — Eduard’s jetpack must have had poor electromagnetic shielding.

Feeling all tense inside, I was waiting for the end of the countdown and my subsequent “termination.” But a few seconds passed, then ten more, and nothing happened. The feeling of impending doom gradually receded. Seemingly, I had managed to knock out the mobile laboratory’s automated security system. I wasn’t sure if it would restart soon and demand I identify myself again, or if the crisis was over. But now I needed to explain myself to my team. And especially to the part of the crew back on Tamara the Paladin — the combat alert was sounding on the starship because its on-board computer interpreted the powerful EMP as an attack, and they were all lost in guesses, polluting the airwaves with discussion and guesses about what triggered the alert. And for the record, all of them were very far from the truth.

I grabbed onto a ledge on the wall, finally stopping my somersaulting and fixing my position in space. After that I started to explain what had happened to my crew, not hiding the truth one bit: the program in control of the ancient laboratory had first let us inside, then unexpectedly demanded I tell it some identification code, threatening to kill me if I didn’t. When suddenly...

“Help! I’m suffocating!”

A voice full of despair and suffering rang out in my head. Based on the way Eeeezzz 777 the Gunner froze and started listening, I could tell the Meleyephatian also heard the mental cry for help. By the way, my Gunner had never told me he had the psionic gift. That seemed to confirm the commonly held belief that most Meleyephatians could do psionics.

“My husband, someone on the station is calling for help.” The voice in my headphones belonged to Minn-O La-Fin, my wife had also heard the rescue request.

“Help! I’m completely exhausted. There’s no air. I am in a locked temporal capsule... I cannot escape... My consciousness is fading due to lack of air...”

“Knock on the wall of your capsule so the rescue group can find you and come help!” the Gunner suggested, but I had a more foolproof method.

I opened my Prospector Scanner and looked at what it had just detected, trying to find markers for living beings. Okay, there is a big group of markers. That must be my frigate. By the way, the level-107 Miyelonian had to have been Ayni. She must have come back into the game. But the Medic was insistent that Gerd Ayni would die after entering the game. He must have been mistaken. Although I couldn’t think about her now. Here is my group inside the station. But then what is this lone marker on the map?

Relict. Level-209 Technician.

The alien marker was the only one — apparently, on the whole ancient station. Its sole remaining inhabitant. Seemingly, this was the individual the security system was bombastically referring to as “station director.” Now if only I could figure out where they were.

Cartography skill increased to level eighty-six!

A nasty idea popped into my head — that we should “not get there in time,” and thus save me a difficult conversation with the station director. But I quickly dismissed it, oriented myself in the confusing diagram of corridors and pointed my companions down a long dark tunnel:

“That way! Second corridor on the left. There’s a living Relict in there! We have to hurry! There’s still time to save them!”

Chapter Three. Witness of the Past

––––––––

HOW UNUSUAL it was to move without stable footing beneath me. I was floating awkwardly in weightlessness, constantly bashing my limbs on the metal walls, crossbars and things of unknown purpose sticking out of the walls. Latching onto these ledges, I would pull myself forward and propel my body on a short flight. Next to me, Space Commando Eduard Boyko was learning to move in a similar fashion and cursing softly. He had nearly put the Jarg in the grave, first colliding with our Analyst twice in midair, then slamming the space armadillo into a wall with his heavy exoskeleton armor. Only on first glance might one think mass had no meaning in zero gravity. Oh it did, you better believe it did! We all in fact weighed nothing, but mass still defined our kinetic energy and momentum. And when the featherweight Jarg collided with an object fifty times heavier, in full accordance with the law of conservation of momentum, the “armadillo” was sent flying violently! A second “center of mass” was Basha Tushihh — in the limited space, his chaotically shifting carcass stuffed into a half-ton exoskeleton suit threatened huge problems for anyone that got in the Geckho’s way.

After covering myself in lumps and bruises (and that while wearing good armor!), I calmed down slightly and decided to think with my head. Why the hell was I trying to imitate some tightrope-walking clown with my low Agility? I needed to play to my character’s strong suits! After all, my new Telekinesis skill basically allowed me to move objects with my mind. Could I move myself? As it turned out, not directly. But I was able to order immobile well-anchored ship parts (for example, a loop handle or a metal wall tile) to come my way. Of course, that didn’t tear the items from their moorings, and they didn’t come my way. I was instead “pulled” toward them. But at any rate, I was moving.

Telekinesis skill increased to level four!

Telekinesis skill increased to level five!

Great! Two skill-ups in a row! I had finally thought up a way of moving relatively quickly in these unusual circumstances. Although Tini was already a hundred and thirty feet ahead of me, and I was of course still pretty far from his speed. The kitten had adapted fairly quickly to the zero-G conditions and had broken out ahead of the pack. However, we were all behind the eight-legged Meleyephatian, so gracefully pushing from wall to wall in weightlessness, as if it were the natural way he’d gotten around since birth. Eeeezzz 777 was first to reach the second branch off the corridor and disappear around the corner.

“Locked door here!” came our Gunner’s whistling voice. “No keyhole. And no panel nearby that might open a door. Captain, what should I do? Break it down?”

Most of the group, including myself, was hopelessly behind Eeeezzz 777, so we couldn’t see the obstacle the Meleyephatian was describing. Only Tini was anywhere close. He would soon reach the second turn, but nevertheless the kitten needed about thirty more seconds. And that half minute delay could easily cost the Relict their life.

“Break it down!” I ordered the Gunner, not exactly having an idea for how the Meleyephatian was planning to open the metal door. It probably couldn’t be done with brute force. Although... I did have quite a poor understanding of the physical capabilities of the huge space “spiders.” Earthbound arthropods could get through armored glass and lift loads three times heavier than their own bodies. So perhaps the somewhat similar Meleyephatian would in fact be capable of extreme enough exertion to break down an armored door.

Far in front of me, something gave a flicker. The boom of an explosion rolled down the shaft. What, did Eeeezzz 777 blast the obstacle away with explosives? I had completely forgotten the biggest difference between Meleyephatians and terrestrial spiders and insects — high Intelligence. In fact, theirs was no lower than the average human’s and most likely even surpassed it.

“Finished, captain.” The utterly calm and matter-of-fact voice of my arachnid subordinate rang out in my headphones. This clearly was not the experienced mercenary’s first time using explosives. “I’m going in. It’s a small berth, almost entirely taken up by a semi-transparent sphere. Something is moving inside. It’s very large. I’m trying to figure out how to open the sphere.”

“Help me... I’m fainti...”

The very weak mental signal in my head trailed off before the Relict even finished two sentences.

“Master Gnat, I am here,” my ward Tini had also reached the room with the Relict. “There’s a big plastic ball. It’s slightly open, the crack is as wide as my paw. Inside is a large creature with a lot of limbs. It is sticking its limbs out through the narrow crack and quaking. Seems the air’s too thin and it can’t breathe. I think it’s dying.”

“Break the ball open at once!” I ordered. But much to my surprise, Eeeezzz 777 contradicted his direct superior:

“Captain, it’s no use. The Relict will perish even if we get the ball open. I have made the decision to give him my oxygen mask and tanks. That is the only way to save the Relict. He may be the last of his kind in the whole Universe. Leng Gnat, it has been a great pleasure to work under your command!”

Authority increased to 86!

“What are you doing?!” my kitten screamed out in fear. “Don’t take off your helmet! There must be another way!”

“No, little fluff-ball, there is not. Pick me up on Kasti-Utsh III when you get back to our galaxy...”

I shouted into the microphone to demand the Meleyephatian not do anything rash and remove his helmet in low pressure. Meleyephatians had a physiological quality I had read about in a guide on galactic races. The space spiders didn’t breathe using lungs like people or Geckho, but instead absorbed oxygen through a layer of laminated crinkled skin beneath their shell, a very distant analogue of the gills of terrestrial fish. And if for some reason the pressure fell drastically, that multi-layered skin would glom together irreversibly, after which the creature would lose the ability to absorb oxygen and would die in a matter of seconds.

And in fact, ten seconds later, the icon depicting Eeeezzz in the group changed color to gray — my team member had died. He sent himself to respawn, saving a member of the ancient Relict race at the cost of his own life. Well, it was a conscious choice on the part of Eeeezzz 777 and I greatly hoped my crewmember’s self-sacrifice would not be in vain.

A minute later, I finally got to the door, which was half torn out of its housing. I examined the blast marks with interest. The Meleyephatian had used something like plastic explosive, professionally placed in a few spots in small quantities. When exactly had the Gunner found the time to calculate and apply all that? By the way, I didn’t even know my crewmember was carrying powerful explosives.

Eagle Eye skill increased to level ninety-six!

Training skill increased to level three!

I slipped in through the crack. Okay, this was approximately what I was expecting to see: the body of the Gunner floating in weightlessness, the air tank and front part of his helmet detached from his spacesuit. The ceramic tank then was hovering, but the air tube coming off it led into the crack opening of the temporal capsule. As far as I could see, the creature inside the spherical capsule was greedily sucking at the oxygen mask and breathing quickly, inflating and deflating the mobile sheets of their cephalothorax, intensively pumping salutary air into their body.

Urgeh Pu-Pu Urgeh. Relict. Level-209 Technician.

Level two-hundred nine... Pretty respectable, needless to say. Although it was weird to see they were not a Leng, or even Gerd. How impressive must the high-profile Relicts have been if level two hundred and nine was just a “normal player” by comparison?

I stared curiously at the member of the ancient race, which was thought to be extinct. This individual had miraculously made it down to our days. Their elongated head had huge eyes covered with a cloudy whitish film on the sides of the skull. No teeth in their slightly open mouth, instead sheets of bone for pulverizing food. Clearly not a predator — with jaws like that, there was no way to hold down and tear at prey. Wet with slime covering their rough skin or maybe chitin. There was steam coming off the creature’s body — due to the low pressure on the station, moisture evaporated quickly. Three pairs of limbs on the cephalothorax. A long abdomen. Yes, this really was a Relict — it was exactly the way I imagined them based on the skull I had seen in my Listener Energy Armor before I had it refit for a human.

“Do you know how to open the chamber?” I couldn’t speak aloud in Relict because I didn’t know the sounds for all the written symbols, so I transmitted my question mentally.

But the creature understood me and answered instantly, and mentally as well:

“The capsule is governed by an automated system and was supposed to open on its own. I don’t know why it failed. But... who are you? You don’t look like the replacement the Pyramid was sending. I am awaiting my replacement because my shift is over. My replacement is late. There’s a war on, so it could take him anywhere from one ummi to ten tongs. I couldn’t get an exact timeframe from the Pyramid. We’re at war, so communication is impeded. But that doesn’t matter. I have put the station into conservation mode and myself into stasis. But then I was forced out, my capsule won’t open and now you’re here. What is happening?”

The creature was looking at Tini and the dead Meleyephatian with measured interest but, for some reason, my Gnat elicited the most curiosity. I had a sense that was hard to put into just a few words, like a cautious poking around my head from the inside. It was approximately the same way I felt when communicating with the Miyelonian Truth Seeker.

Mental Fortitude skill increased to level one hundred ten!

“Uhh...” I was having a hard time figuring out where to even start my explanation. “Urgeh Pu-Pu Urgeh, the ancient war ended around ten thousand tongs ago. Your replacement never came.”

I figured he (and my mental probing had proven this was a male) might be mistrusting — after all, to the newly awakened Relict, all that had basically just taken place and it would be extremely difficult for him to believe some thirty-five thousand years had passed. But Urgeh’s reaction went beyond my greatest fears:

Danger Sense skill increased to level ninety-one!

Mental Fortitude skill increased to level one hundred eleven!

“You’re lying! You thought I wouldn’t recognize you in that disguise, devious Precursor! You will never get your hands on our codes and maps! I’d sooner die than commit treason!”

Next to me, he howled out in a deranged voice and grabbed at Tini’s head. A second later, I was also taken dead to rights. The tiny berth and plastic ball disappeared. All around me was an endless void and absolute darkness. And terrible pain. It felt like my head was being run through a meat-grinder. The unbearable torment made me want to scream and run/fly/crawl as far away as I could. My Hitpoints and Endurance Points both started gushing out of their respective bars all of a sudden — my energy and health were draining before my very eyes. What sort of strange magic was this? And more importantly — how could I resist it? I couldn’t see my enemy and couldn’t hit back. Press the Scanning icon immediately!

Scanning skill increased to level sixty-nine!

Yes, that made things a bit easier. Even though I still couldn’t see anything, I was able to use the mini-map to get my bearings in space and determine the position of the plastic ball the dangerous Technician was sitting inside of. From five feet away, I’d never miss such a large target with my Annihilator. But still I rejected the idea of killing the mad Relict. Instead, again using the mini-map, I located the air tank floating around the little room, extended a hand to it, felt for the valve and slowly closed the supply. How do you like that, Urgeh Pu? How long can you keep attacking me with no oxygen?

Mental Fortitude skill increased to level one hundred twelve!

Because my life bar had barely even a third left, I had to quickly down an invigorating cocktail. Thankfully, in the game, I didn’t have to take off my helmet to do so. My Hitpoints and Energy Points didn’t start going back up, but at the very least they were no longer going down quite so fast.

I got messages from Princess Minn-O and Valeri at almost the exact same time. They couldn’t help me with defense, but they asked me to point to the enemy and were ready to join me in a mental attack. Nice of course, but no longer necessary. My vision abruptly returned to normal. Lit up by bright flashlights, I saw the plastic ball blasted to smithereens, its debris floating around the room, and the Relict convulsing in fits. And most importantly, Basha Tushihh was squeezing the aggressive Technician tight in his powerful arms — by all appearances the Geckho didn’t overthink when he finally reached this little room, ripped the door all the way out of its housing and quite simply knocked the Relict out with a blow to the head.

His arms were still shaking, he had almost no strength left. And so I asked the powerful Geckho to put the oxygen mask back on the fainted Relict’s nose before he died.

“And if he gets uppity, pop him another one! And keep on doing it until the Relict smartens up and figures out we’re not enemies,” I said the last part in Geckho, doubling it mentally for the dense Technician.

Authority increased to 87!

“No need. I figured that all out the first time. I’m prepared to have a peaceful discussion. I just ask that you turn on the air unit. The moisture is evaporating from my skin. I’m drying out and might die.”

The ancient Technician pleaded.

“Of course. But would you mind showing me where it is and how to do that?” I asked the millennia-old lab worker. And the Relict agreed, changing his tune on a dime.

Chapter Four. Discipline Lesson

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GETTING THE AIR SUPPLY back on turned out to be quite the simple task. The Relict pointed to the proper room, Tini broke open its locked door in one minute, and the valve to the huge tank of liquid oxygen and nitrogen could be unscrewed manually. But for the time being we were only able to refill the atmosphere inside the station — using the geological analyzer had caused a total blackout in the ancient laboratory, including taking down the forcefield, so all the air outside the hermetically sealed station instantly whooshed out into space.

“Strange. Very strange,” the Technician muttered in surprise, trying unsuccessfully to get back control over the inactive systems. “This situation is simply not covered in the instructions! The distortion forcefield is supposed to be surrounding the laboratory at all times. It cannot be otherwise! Or else the Precursors, who constantly scan the cosmos, will very quickly find and destroy us! What could have happened to the power supply? Unless the reactor was turned off and the batteries were down to zero. But the batteries should have had enough power to last a hundred tongs operating autonomously!”

I didn’t explain to the ancient Technician that I had caused the equipment failure. I just brought it back to what I said before — that it had been far longer than a hundred tongs since he was put into stasis, around two orders of magnitude longer in fact. The batteries actually could have discharged over such a long timeframe. The Relict again didn’t seem to believe me, but this time at least behaved peacefully and didn’t rush to attack.

For starters, Urgeh Pu turned on the power supply from the solar arrays — as it turned out the whole huge hull of the laboratory was covered in photoelectric panels. The energy they provided wasn’t exactly gasp-worthy — the nearest star was still quite distant, but the Technician was at the very least able to turn on the lights and activate the artificial gravitation unit. He set it on power-saving mode — barely even one one-hundredth of terrestrial gravitation, just enough so we wouldn’t be floating through the halls and could walk like normal. The Relict tried to turn on the laboratory’s defensive camouflage screen, but it didn’t work — there wasn’t enough power.

“Now we need to turn on the reactor!” the laboratory director lit up with a new idea, but I cooled his enthusiasm telling him that, when we got to the station, the system informed us there was not enough power to start the subatomic reactor.

The Relict ran some calculations on the terminal and was noticeably disheartened. There was indeed not enough energy. Furthermore, based on the Technician’s calculations, with solar arrays alone, it would be a VERY long time before we had enough power to start the reactor. To be exact, we would need around sixteen and a half tongs, which was fifty-nine years in earth time. But we simply would not have that kind of time because the laboratory would be detected and destroyed by Precursors long before that. After coming to such troubling conclusions, the Technician sank into thought for a long while, then suddenly asked about the Annihilator on my belt:

“Can I see it?”

With a certain apprehension, I unclipped the ancient weapon and, mentally telling Tini, Eduard Boyko and Basha Tushihh to prepare for some action and be ready to twist the Relicts arms if he tried to shoot, I handed my Annihilator to Urgeh Pu-Pu Urgeh. My apprehensions turned out to be unfounded — the Relict, seeing the players watching him tensely, deliberately slowly unfastened the Annihilator grip which had been refit for human fingers. Clearly knowing what he was doing, he opened the weapon up and... crossed two limbs on his chest to express disappointment as he examined the homebrew battery the Kirsan repair bot had whipped up:

“This won’t do! We need a native nuclear battery. That would have enough power to start the reactor.”

A little ray of hope glimmered up in my mind because I did have real batteries — fortunately, I had bought some recently on Kasti-Utsh III. However, before I was going to share the enormously rare objects with the Technician, I decided to dot all the i’s and clarify what we were going to do next. What did Urgeh Pu-Pu Urgeh intend to do after the reactor turned back on?

“The instructions state that, in case of threat of detection, we must change the laboratory’s location as quickly as possible. The station has no camouflage screen now, so it’s just a matter of time before automatic Precursor hunters start showing up. Because of that, we will turn on the camouflage and get away from this compromised position at once. Even if we have to stay in this same star system.”

Hmmm... I was not sure those safety rules were still strictly necessary in these times, tens of thousands of years after the great war between the ancient races had ended. But I didn’t argue. I just asked the Relict whether he would transport my nearby frigate together with the laboratory. He hesitated for a second, then assured me the starship would come along with the station.

Except...

Danger Sense skill increased to level ninety-two!

Mental Fortitude skill increased to level one hundred thirteen!

I do not appreciate being lied to so flagrantly and ineptly! I needed to explain that to the Relict so he would understand. I mentally asked Valeri and Minn-O to be ready to join my attack if I couldn’t manage on my own (the Technician’s level 209 inspired respect regardless), and I turned decisively toward Urgeh Pu-Pu Urgeh. Because there was already enough pressure inside the station, I raised the face guard of my helmet to make eye contact. I must have had a very serious Intelligence advantage over the Technician because I didn’t sense the least bit of resistance and was immediately flooded with a stream of alien thoughts:

“Gnat has sensed something and is on guard. I must have slipped up somewhere. But where exactly? Did I inadvertently think about the automatic activation of the security system when the reactor is started up? Most likely. Sure, our squadron of combat drones would have destroyed the intruders quickly and their starship next to the laboratory to boot. But now I’ll have to do it on my own. Oh well, conflict was inevitable. The six outsiders on the station must be terminated. I’ve learned a bitter lesson. I’ll keep the giant Geckho at bay. I can turn the rest against one another and suck them dry. Before killing Gnat, I need to take the battery from his inventory. But the nerve of that Gnat! He’s trying to read me. He dared challenge me! No matter, I’ll teach him another lesson by jamming his sense organs again! How do you like that, human? Ow! Yeesh... That hurts! How is he doing that? How is he tossing me around like that? Woah! He shouldn’t be... Hey! Broke an arm... Shell cracked... Magic Points running out... Life Points in the red... Okay, okay. I give up!”

I immediately released the Relict, who was curled up in a ball with his limbs pressed up to his chest in pain. I wasn’t expecting how effective the new combat tactic would be — before the blackness overtook my vision, I grabbed my opponent with Telekinesis and flung him against the walls, every time making the throws more abrupt and impacts more forceful. By the way, it was odd that a Technician at the extreme level of 209 would run out of mana so quickly, ending his psionic attack against me almost immediately. I even had two thirds of my Magic Points left. Perhaps the Relict hadn’t yet restored his mana after our last dust-up. Or maybe the Technician class didn’t have a ton of Magic Points to begin with. After all I was reminded that, once upon a time, as a Prospector I had much less Magic Points than the same-level Listener I became.

Psionic skill increased to level one hundred eleven!

Telekinesis skill increased to level six!

Telekinesis skill increased to level seven!

Training skill increased to level four!

You have reached level one hundred one!

You have received three skill points (total points accumulated: six).

Level one hundred and one! Not bad, not bad! All six free points I immediately invested into Medium Armor, bringing it up to 93, all the while tracking my previously chosen course to see if I could use the Tachyon Bender. Then I walked up to the hunched up and painfully shivering Relict. With the fingers of my left armored glove, I grabbed my vanquished opponent by the lower jaw and raised his head so I could look into his eyes. And I was using my right hand to hold my Annihilator to the Relict’s head all the while:

“Urgeh Pu-Pu Urgeh, I’ve had enough of your stubborn foolishness! This is the last time I’ll be explaining and if you don’t learn your lesson this time — it’s on you! The war between the Relicts and Precursors ended a very long time ago. All that’s left of the once mighty Precursor race are scattered pockets on remote planets throughout the galaxy, and our technological level has universally been set back by millennia. Civilization on my planet reverted to a fully primitive state and not even the slightest memories of our former greatness remained. Your race meanwhile, was thought to be extinct right up until my ship discovered this hidden dormant laboratory. A member of my crew sacrificed his own life to save yours because you are perhaps the last Relict in the Universe. And my gratitude for my Gunner is the only thing keeping me from killing you now, even though I generally cannot stand this kind of guile and villainy. Got it?”

Based on the fragmentary thoughts that slipped through, I could sense that the Relict had finally started to consider it and was even allowing for the possibility that a ton of time really may have passed. Urgeh Pu-Pu Urgeh covered both of his eyes with cloudy film, then opened them again. That must have meant “yes.” Okay, let’s keep talking.

“It just so happens that we can help one another. Without your laboratory, my damaged starship will never be able to return home. I meanwhile know where the ship of the Relict Hierarch is located. I believe that there are more living members of your race on it in stasis as well. And so I offer you a choice. You can be completely open and help a Listener and your senior in the Pyramid hierarchy. In that case, I will help you bring your race back from the brink. Or I could act alone without your help. Yes, it would take much longer, but I have enough Intelligence and knowledge to figure out all the equipment here on the station. So, the choice is yours!”

Urgeh Pu-Pu Urgeh’s response came instantly:

“Listener, I recognize your authority from now until we meet the Hierarch of my race, who will have the authority to overrule your orders! I won’t cause any more trouble, I swear by the Pyramid!”

There it is! I lowered the Annihilator wearily. My arms were shaking. I was out of Magic Points. Over the last few seconds, I had practically spent up my Endurance Points as well. Eduard Boyko had to hold me up because my vision was getting blurry in exhaustion. I just about fell over. But that was a small matter. The main thing was that I had achieved my objective! I knew that from now on Urgeh Pu-Pu Urgeh would obey me implicitly no matter what. And it would remain that way right up until we met the Relict Hierarch. And after that (this I also read in the ancient Technician’s thoughts), Urgeh Pu-Pu Urgeh would advise the Hierarch to kill me because I knew too many of the Relict race’s secrets, and thus was dangerous. He would even help the Hierarch to do so. Alarming information, but still it was for the distant future. I didn’t have to worry about the member of the ancient race doing anything rash for the time being.

Psionic skill increased to level one hundred twelve!

Authority increased to 88!

I stashed my Annihilator, turned on my radio and called the Medic and both Engineers over from the frigate. One of the Relict’s four upper appendages was hanging limp, so the Technician clearly needed a doctor. My Medic Gerd Mauu-La Mya-Ssa would also just find it interesting and beneficial for his skills to examine a member of a previously unknown race. It would similarly aid the professional development of Orun Va-Mart and San-Sano to familiarize themselves with the ancient laboratory’s systems. And considering my Mechanics had been guaranteed a few levels from working with ancient artifacts, this functioning Relict station promised a colossal boost to my Engineers’ skills and levels!

After that I took a nuclear battery from my inventory and extended it to the Technician:

“Urgeh Pu-Pu Urgeh, go turn on the subatomic reactor and camouflage screen! And immediately after that, transfer complete control over all laboratory systems to me. Including the security program — the last thing I need is another incident with the artificial intelligence! After that, together with my Pilots, Navigator and Engineers we’ll bring the laboratory closer to the local star given it would be dangerous to spend too long at these coordinates. Once we’ve finished those priority tasks, we’ll fly together to my frigate. I’ll introduce you to the rest of the crew and give you a berth to sleep in. I suppose communicating with members of other races will help you not feel alone and quickly adapt to this new world, which has changed so much in the thousands of tongs since you were last around. And when you do adapt and consider yourself ready for a serious conversation, along with the Navigators and other officers, we can think up the best way to use this ‘ace up my sleeve,’ which can move through the Universe instantly.”

Chapter Five. Failed to Leave

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I ELECTED not to leave Urgeh Pu-Pu Urgeh on the station even though he had his own comfortable berth to stay in already. There were many reasons for that, but first of all I didn’t like my new team member’s depressed psychological state. Urgeh Pu-Pu Urgeh was simply slain by the news that his race had died out and just couldn’t make peace with it. I could sense it right away, but it was especially reinforced in the Pyramid Contact Hall, where the Technician headed after medical treatment, cramming himself into a suit of armor like mine and turning on the subatomic reactor while my team watched.

Urgeh Pu also explained to me and the two Engineers that, at the first stage, this type of reactor created a tiny zone where heavy isotopes of lead, gold and neptunium were split into lighter elements. At the second stage, the energy unleashed by that nuclear decay activated a fission zone for light atoms to be split into quarks and boson streams, while the third and final stage took place in the main zone of the reactor, where quarks and top quarks were annihilated using antiquarks.

Electronics skill increased to level ninety-six!

Astrolinguistics skill increased to level one hundred one!

As a reward for the prolonged and difficult work interpreting, I was given two skill-ups at once. Though I must admit, I practically didn’t understand one bit of the Relict’s confusing explanations and it was easily possible I had mistranslated the processes in the reactor for my Engineers. But Orun Va-Mart and San-Sano were impressed by what they heard and nodded, looking with clear respect at the ancient device as it came to life and very slowly got to work. As Urgeh Pu-Pu Urgeh explained, it would take around ten ummi, or two days for the subatomic reactor to start working at full capacity. Until that point, no long-distance null transports would be possible even in theory, and we could only change the laboratory’s coordinates within the bounds of this star system.

And we did so as soon as the distortion field turned back on, going into orbit around the first planet — a scorching hot and lifeless black ball with rivers of molten magma flowing on its surface. I looked at the video from one of my drones and, I must admit, I was impressed. In the light of the small neutron star, which mostly produced radiation outside of the spectrum visible to humans, the planet looked ghastly, like an offshoot of hell itself. And although, in Ayukh’s words, the ship’s scanning systems detected a significant concentration of gold in the molten flows, and even whole rock formations made entirely of crystalized gold, the extreme radiation and surface temperature, fifteen hundred degrees Fahrenheit, would obliterate any protein-based lifeform in a matter of seconds. Even my amazing Listener Energy Armor Suit couldn’t help me survive down there.

Cartography skill increased to level eighty-seven!

Leaving the two Engineers at the reactor, I followed the Technician to the Pyramid Contact Hall. There I had to spend roughly two hours watching the Relict make desperate attempts to contact any of his own kind. Urgeh Pu-Pu Urgeh tried all kinds of different codes and settings, fiddled with the encoding, activated service commands for emergency contact, and time and again ran down the callsign list for other laboratories, military bases and stations. All to no avail. Frankly, it pained me to look at the Relict. I could sense such unbearable despair and loneliness in his behavior. By the end of the second hour, the Technician knew perfectly well that his attempts to get in touch with his own kind were doomed to failure but regardless he kept trying, looking increasingly disturbed all the while.

I didn’t just spend those two hours slacking off though. Urgeh Pu-Pu Urgeh had transferred control over all the station’s systems to me, technically making me director of the ancient laboratory. And I was inundated by the surplus of new information. It would take me weeks if not months to get a thorough grasp of all the settings — from team member access to various rooms, to artificial food cultivation standards and security system reaction algorithms for this or that internal or external event. But first things first: I set myself as administrator for the artificial intelligence and made sure all my crewmembers were completely untouchable. I also laid claim to one of the Large Guard Drones still in the hangar — I needed to compensate my loss after the recent battle! The security system agreed with my conclusions and disbursed the drone, but no more than one — my current level on the Pyramid wouldn’t allow more. That was a pity. It would have been cool to watch three Small Guard Drones racing down the station corridors. And I wouldn’t mind the other large one — severely battered, with two armor panels ripped off its hull and missing one of its cannons. Despite the damage, this drone was daringly spinning loops around the station and trying to catch up with my two nimble Small Guard Drones, as if playing a game of tag.

The Large Guard Drone I got though was a flattened ellipsoid sixteen feet in diameter. Silver, metal, polished to a mirror shine and... inactive. When I summoned the white Kirsan repair bot to examine my new prize, it first climbed inside the flying saucer very deftly, clearly having done this before. Then it explained that the Large Guard Drone had no power and required a replacement nuclear battery. Beyond that, a large number of its signal bridges had come unstuck after its prolonged inactivity, while a few of the electronic chips and memory crystals had fallen into disrepair and required at least fixing, and often complete replacement. As immediately became clear, there were no replacement parts for drones on the station, so bringing my Large Guard Drone back to life had to be set aside indefinitely. In its present condition, the drone was nothing but a two-ton hunk of scrap metal.

I must admit, I was upset and even outraged. I asked a fair question: “why is so much junk stored in the laboratory instead of workable drones?” But the artificial intelligence replied that the three Large Guard Drones had come from the warzone after fighting Precursors, and no orders had ever come in from the Pyramid about how they would be used next. The most workable of its original Large Guard Drones had been issued to me, even though it had no forcefield generator and, of the three thrusters it was meant to have, only one was still in working condition. But because that drone had been destroyed, I was given one of the two remaining drones as a replacement, again the one in the most serviceable condition.

If this lifeless hunk of scrap was considered “most serviceable,” the other albeit functioning large drone must have been in even worse shape. But at least it could fly on its own... By the way, there was the explanation for why the Meleyephatian fleet was able to damage the Large Relict Guard Drone so easily — it was moving slower than it was supposed to be and didn’t have a forcefield. In full working condition, the laboratory’s artificial intelligence assured me, the Large Guard Drone could hold its own against two automatic Precursor hunters. Of course, I wanted that kind of firepower for myself. I tried to push for the idea of disassembling one of the Large Guard Drones for parts, then assembling one passable drone from the two faulty ones but I found no understanding from the station’s security system nor Urgeh Pu-Pu Urgeh. The second drone didn’t belong to me, so I didn’t have the right to do with it as I pleased, much less its components.

Given Urgeh Pu-Pu Urgeh’s stay in the Pyramid Contact Hall was clearly going to last a while, at a certain point I decided to check the Technician’s thoughts and emotions just in case. And what I read shocked me. Urgeh Pu-Pu Urgeh was having flickers of suicidal ideation, and extremely radical ideas such as “blow the reactor and destroy the station.” The only things holding the Relict back were the oath he swore to me and a timid hope he might see members of his own race again one day after making contact with the Hierarch’s starship I told him about earlier. But whether those reasons would hold for long, I did not know.

The same way I didn’t know how long the Technician may have stayed vegetating in the Pyramid Contact Hall if left to his own devices. But the screen of my Listener Energy Armor’s faceplate suddenly showed a bright red pulsating warning message: “COMBAT ALERT!!!” Based on the way Urgeh Pu-Pu Urgeh shuddered, the Relict had gotten a similar message in his suit.

“Captain, starships of unknown allegiance have entered the system!” the voice of main pilot Dmitry Zheltov rang out in my ears. “Distance sixteen and a half million miles. A cluster of targets.”

“Six small ships,” the Navigator’s clarification followed just then. “Their signatures do not appear to be in the starship database. But they warped in right where we were just stationed!”

“We got out of there just in the nick of time!” I said, unable to contain my joy. “The Precursors only needed the Relict laboratory’s camouflage shield to be down for half an hour to detect it in a different galaxy, determine its coordinates and send out their hunters.”

I heard happy cries from the other team members — none of them wanted to have an encounter with the automated Precursor hunters. But here the Technician stated his point of view (at the same time confirming that he was eavesdropping on my crewmembers’ thoughts). I could not imagine how the Relict could see what was happening outside this laboratory — I myself had yet to figure out all the station’s apparatuses and how to configure them to send data to my Listener suit, but Urgeh Pu-Pu Urgeh made a confident declaration:

“Those are not Precursor ships! It’s some kind of local flotilla. They detected us when the distortion shield was down, determined our coordinates and warped here from a neighboring system to eliminate the trespassers. And another thing, human, you and your team should cease communication on primitive and easily detectible channels at once because these ships are scanning space. They have already detected your signals near the first planet and will be nearby shortly. We must change coordinates immediately!”

I thanked the Relict for the warning, then mentally ordered Dmitry Zheltov to convey a captain’s order via the frigate loudspeaker: “Cease radio communication! Maintain silence on the airwaves!” I said the same out loud to the crewmembers near me on the station. After that I hurried to the shuttle — I needed to get back on my frigate at once. I couldn’t use the Relict laboratory’s apparatuses yet and, for a captain, being blind in such a critical situation was unacceptable lack of vigilance.

I piloted the shuttle myself and, if I may say without a hint of modesty, I was no worse a pilot than my Meleyephatian Gunner! Every second was dear, so I didn’t even touch the yoke and, at times using my Machine Control skill and others acting directly with Telekinesis, shot the shuttle out of the dock like a bullet and overcame the two hundred feet between the laboratory and my starship, then left the vehicle in the hangar of Tamara the Paladin. Around four seconds after I climbed into the shuttle, it was again parked and held down with magnetic anchors.

Telekinesis skill increased to level eight!

Mental Fortitude skill increased to level one hundred fourteen!

Machine Control skill increased to level one hundred seven!

Having watched my impactful arrival, Vasily Filippov just froze with his jaw hanging open in surprise, while Copilot San-Doon Taki-Bu even said with respect in his voice:

“Coruler Gnat La-Fin, such a daring pilot! You should try your hand at racing!”

Yes, I had to agree. It looked impressive, but under calmer circumstances I never would have taken such risks. Straining to hide the satisfied smirk trying to crawl onto my face, I hurried to the captain’s bridge. And I barely made it. The first things I saw when entering the room were bewildered faces on my human and alien crewmembers. Then I turned my gaze to the large screen broadcasting a feed from the external cameras and saw a sickle-shaped flat starship just a mile away from my frigate!

Dero. Gukko-Vahe Composite small interceptor.

Another five of the same kind of interceptor were also relatively nearby as well — ranging from forty to sixty miles from my frigate. They had determined our coordinates so quickly and accurately, even though the laboratory was in a cloaking field and had not been hit with scanning systems! I didn’t know who exactly the Gukko-Vahe were, or why they called themselves something so bizarre as a “Composite.” But at any rate, the nearest nimble interceptor took a few sharp curves at massive speed, snapped into position and flew unfailingly right at us! That thing is just about to slam into my frigate!

Danger Sense skill increased to level ninety-three!

Minn-O La-Fin’s frightened scream rang out in my ears. She had forgotten my order to keep silent. Yes, my wife’s Danger Sense was much more advanced and powerful than my own, and I suspected the Princess had an even stronger and more painful sense of foreboding than I did. All at once, the five other sickle-shaped vehicles stopped swerving around and turned in our direction. The nearest interceptor kicked into overdrive, accelerating and continuing unerringly right at us.

At that critical moment I acted intuitively, without the slightest thought as to why I was doing exactly what I was doing. In a stroke of uncanny intuition, I put myself in the place of the pilot of that crescent-shaped starship, even saw the droplet-like transparent cabin, glowing instrument panel and my... what even were those things? Pseudopodia, tentacles, feelers? Don’t get distracted! I ordered myself to cut speed at once. I didn’t know if it helped or not. Probably not, because the crescent-shaped ship was still coming just as fast and one second later would pierce the “bubble” surrounding the laboratory. Throwing my arms toward the interceptor racing our way, I shouted out while simultaneously doubling the message mentally:

“Brake, you moron!!!”

Psionic skill increased to level one hundred thirteen!

The next second was packed full of events. First of all, the alien interceptor did in fact initiate an emergency braking procedure, but inertia kept it going through the distortion field, going so far in fact that its nose nearly made contact with the side of my frigate. Less than one yard remained (Tamara the Paladin’s forcefield might have facilitated that, slowing the foreign body just a little bit more). Second, I could sense that my feelings were not mistaken, and I really did have the pilot’s mind under my control. Third, Urgeh Pu-Pu Urgeh had finally stopped messing around with the jump settings and transported the laboratory away from the first planet. By all appearances, we were now on the very edge of the star system, based on the way the neutron star on the monitor suddenly looked smaller in diameter by twenty or so times. And along with that laboratory, we took both starships as well!

Chapter Six. Playing Tag

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HOLY MACKEREL... We accidentally snatched up the alien starship and took it with us! And what’s more, our opponents were unlikely to think we did so unintentionally. due to their interceptor’s risky maneuvering. In fact, they probably thought we had executed a carefully planned hostile kidnapping of their pilot and vehicle and would surely try to get their compatriot back and eliminate the dastardly trespassers at the same time. But would they be able to find us?

Now the interceptor pilot was mentally stunned and temporarily no danger. But their starship was still active and could broadcast its coordinates to the other ships of the flotilla, and thus our new position risked being revealed. We have to capture that interceptor as quickly as possible and disable its computers!

“Gerd Minn-O, Svetlana Vereshchagina, Destroying Angel, Gerd Ayni and Taik Rekh to the exit!” I commanded over the loudspeaker. “I appoint Gerd Minn-O La-Fin to lead the group. Your mission is to capture that alien starship ASAP, and without damaging it if possible. Disable all its systems, take the pilot captive and deliver them to this frigate. And I remind you, no radio communication! Minn-O will transmit all commands mentally.”

I watched on the cameras as the five players gathered at an airlock door and donned their spacesuits, discussing something. Ugh, too slow... I could feel the precious seconds ticking away in my skin. The obvious way to speed things up was for me to act with Machine Control, and not bother trying to take control of the ship, but just knock out all the on-board computers.

Scan now! I activated the icon and studied the response on my mini-map with intrigue.

Vahe. Level-134 Sentry.

Gukko. Level-134 Parasite.

Strange. I only sensed one pilot on the interceptor, but this was showing two different creatures for some reason. And what was this “parasite” thing? Okay, I could figure that out later. Now I was more interested in the systems I could disable or take control of on the alien starship. And there were very, very many:

Positioning system... First Vahe-Protocol... Composite Integrity Monitor... Pilot Vital Sign Monitoring System... Formation Fighting Program... Compatibility Monitor... Instant Communication Apparatus... External Control Protocol... Narrow Neutron Scanner... Gravity Spoofer... Aiming System Gyroscope...

A further fifty systems at least were listed, most of them having a function I didn’t understand in the least. I mean, what the hell even were all this unknown spacefaring race’s intricate electronics? But there was also good news: most of what I detected could be turned off mentally and, in a number of cases, the chance of success was 100% or near it. I immediately started switching them off.

Mysticism skill increased to level fifty-six!

Machine Control skill increased to level one hundred eight!

Telekinesis skill increased to level nine!

I deactivated eight or nine systems at random, and my Magic Points were almost gone — it was just eating through too much mana. And keeping the mind of the pilot under control also required spending Magic Points. I had to stop for a second and quickly slurp down a cocktail to restore my mana and energy.

While my strength came back, I saw my crew on the monitors showing the feed from the external cameras. The four small women were holding onto the huge Geckho Taik Rekh, who had a jetpack on his exoskeleton armor suit. The fivesome flew up to the Dero interceptor and grabbed onto it. And with the players for scale, I got an idea of the linear dimensions of the actually quite small ship — just twenty feet long and thirty-two wide. And seemingly, their magnetic soles were working because Ayni and Destroying Angel gracefully ran across the hull of the tiny starship, studying it and attaching some kind of wires. Svetlana Vereshchagina peered deep into the cabin and applied some skill from her Assassin arsenal, further stunning the pilot. But from there, my team ran into problems — they were not able to get the starship open. A plasma cutter had already appeared in the Gunner’s hands.

“Wait a second, Taik Rekh, don’t rush ahead and ruin the fragile vehicle,” I stopped the Geckho, who was ready to start butchering the starship’s hull just to get to the pilot as quickly as possible. “I’ll try to open the pilot cabin’s hood for you.”

Ugh, what happened next just had to be seen. I ordered one of the Small Relict Guard Drones to fly up to the interceptor and hover a few yards away. I brought up the camera feed on my Listener Suit. Interesting. Very interesting indeed.

The pilot of the craft was a medium-sized creature resembling an ammonite fossil. It had a three-foot-diameter spiral shell, all covered in metallic protuberances and outgrowths with multicolored little bulbs blinking on them. Beneath the shell I could see a jelly-like torso with twenty tentacles sticking out in different directions. I didn’t see any obvious eyes on the creature, although it clearly did have eyes because the starship’s instruments were lit up, which implied they were meant to be looked at.

Sib-O-O-Lu. Vahe-Gukko Composite. Squadron 8347. Level-134 Sentry-Parasite.

Ugh, if only I had a couple more Magic Points, I’d try to have a chat with this strange creature to figure out what part of it was the Vahe, and what was the Gukko. However, I had to be careful with my mana, otherwise the pilot might break out of my mental control and cause a catastrophe.

Okay, so where was the mechanism or lever that would open the armored hood? For some reason, I saw nothing of the sort on my mini-map. I turned the camera, even moved the drone to get a better look, but I didn’t discover anything of the sort. Furthermore, I was forming the impression, that the pilot cabin couldn’t open at all. I was starting to think the pilot might have been placed inside this thing during assembly and, ever since then, Sib-O-O-Lu had been trapped at their “workstation.”

Danger Sense skill increased to level ninety-four!

Damn! There could be no doubt. We’d been located again. I couldn’t say exactly which, but one of the still active systems on the interceptor must have transmitted our coordinates to the other starships in the flotilla.

“Urgeh Pu-Pu Urgeh, the alien ships will be here any second! Prepare to move out again!” I mentally told the Relict Technician and, at the same time, because my Magic Points were somewhat replenished, I turned off another few systems on the interceptor: “External Control Protocol” and “Composite Integrity Monitor.”

Machine Control skill increased to level one hundred nine!

You have reached level one hundred two!

You have received three skill points!

At first, I didn’t understand why the game algorithms had rewarded my Gnat with a level-up and was in fact surprised at their unexpected generosity. But then I saw the reason: the pilot was dead! My reckless actions had just caused the death of a level-134 creature! Or two level-134 creatures in fact if one looked at the “composite” as an inseparable union of two different races.

And meanwhile, the situation outside the distortion field had changed — the ancient laboratory had again changed coordinates, this time going into a dust cloud. Fortunately, both starships and my boarding team were transported as well.

* * *

AFTER FINALLY SHUTTING off the last of the Dero interceptor’s active systems and thus precluding any way the enemies had to track us, I ordered the Technician yet again to change the laboratory’s coordinates to make sure we were well and truly hidden in the massive star system. The boarding team brought the Dero interceptor over to Tamara the Paladin and fixed it down tight on an external suspension. Both of my Engineers were crawling around the alien ship examining something and had already actually managed to unscrew some modules and components for closer inspection.

Meanwhile, the number of Composite starships in the system was growing at a simply exponential rate — hundreds had already arrived, and new ones were coming in practically every minute. They were searching for us extensively, using all possible scanning methods, EMPs, gravity explosions and a lot of other stuff we didn’t comprehend. The small and large ships were flying from planet to planet, planting probes and sensors throughout the whole star system. We also detected a laser web millions of miles wide, which would detect any interruption in its beams if an object outside the visible light spectrum passed through it. But Urgeh Pu-Pu Urgeh assured me that there was no cause for alarm because such “primitive methods” would never be able to detect our laboratory. We had completely ceased communicating by radio and had turned off all active scanning systems on the station and frigate. All that remained were passive observation methods.

Also on the Relict’s advice, I sent every crew member not currently on shift into the real — the less players we had in one place, the harder it would be to detect our location by scanning for brain activity (and Urgeh Pu-Pu Urgeh also told me that was a possibility. At the very least, the Relicts and Precursors had such technology).

Before exiting the game, the Tailaxian Valeri-Urla came up to me and confessed that she was extremely anxious — in the real world she would have to undergo a second operation to remove the surveillance implants from her real body. And although our experienced Miyelonian Medic Gerd Mauu-La had successfully accomplished that once, she was still very nervous:

“Gnat, wish me luck! I hope the operation will be a success and we’ll see each other again. In any case, thank you for all that you’ve done for me!” the girl with big huge “anime” eyes suddenly made up her mind, walked up close and kissed me right on the lips, then said barely audibly: “Consider that a down payment. We can discuss the remainder when we meet in the real world on Kasti-Utsh III, and I no longer have all these vile prison-implanted gadgets in me. And another thing, I won’t be taking Little Sister with me into the real world this time. If it comes to it, Gnat, take good care of my Shadow Panther!”

Minn-O La-Fin, Basha and Vasha Tushihh, Taik Rekh, Tini and many others followed Valeri in exiting the game. The Relict was also preparing to exit into the real, although he was also noticeably anxious about doing so. But his virt pod was intact. For some reason, Urgeh Pu-Pu Urgeh had no doubt of that:

“The refuge is entirely automated and well hidden. It should still exist no matter how much time has passed. I hope I’ll find answers there to all my burning questions and learn where I might find other members of my race.”

Remaining on the ship was just a skeleton crew of five players and the captain. The search for our ship was still underway, but our adversaries were now operating tens of millions of miles away from us. In fact, for some reason they were right next to the neutron star, so I wasn’t particularly worried. And yes, it was hard to explain with words, but my intuition was telling me that this time we managed to hide for real, and I was accustomed to trusting my intuition. Furthermore, my Jarg Analyst, who had been responding to every question by saying “insufficient information to draw conclusions,” had suddenly come out and said, “the ancient base and everyone on the ship will not be detected.” Okay then. Amazing if so!

I ordered the Navigator to scan for and record all discussion from the alien ships, then went to rest. I wanted to take Little Sister into my captain’s berth with me, but the Shadow Panther refused to come. The beast was missing her master badly and spent nearly all her time sitting in Valeri’s bunk, nuzzling her snout into her pillow.

How tired I was after this endless day, which had begun way back with the search for the ancient laboratory in the H9045/WE star system! It was so long ago it felt like a past life! As if in a fog, barely moving my legs in exhaustion, I headed to my cabin and collapsed on my bed dead to the world. Through the drowsiness, I asked Minn-O not to touch me even though my wife was in quite the frisky mood. She was sitting on the bed and tenderly stroking my neck, seemingly hoping for a long and passionate night of love.

“Okay... let’s at least do one time. It doesn’t have to be for long!” I changed my mind in the end and, without opening an eye, extended my hands to embrace my wife and pulled her decisively toward me. “Woah!”

I jerked back my hand in fear. A human woman’s body could never grow such thick fur! Instantly awoken, I belatedly remembered that my wayedda Minn-O La-Fin had exited the game that bends reality, planning to spend some time in her palace and get the latest tidings from the magocratic world.

“Ayni, what... what are you doing here?” I quickly came to my senses and even remembered that I had also given the pretty Miyelonian Translator access to my captain’s chambers, and the right to enter at any time.

The orange Miyelonian, embarrassed and even slightly scared by my initial reaction, scooted away and gave a somewhat tortured smile, showing her sharp teeth:

“I was not expecting you to react like that, captain. Sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I have returned to the game to relay some important news: Kung Keetsie-Myau has come to the Kasti-Utsh III station and wishes to see you at once, Leng Gnat! And my advice to you: don’t keep the almighty ruler of my race waiting. Doing so could be fraught with serious consequences.”

“Uhh...” I looked at the time and couldn’t even believe my eyes at first. Six hours had passed since I first collapsed into bed. Apparently I did get a decent amount of sleep. “But Ayni, Urgeh Pu and I haven’t even calculated a null transport back yet, and I cannot do such intricate computations on my own! Furthermore, the Relict laboratory is not yet ready for a long-distance jump to a different galaxy. The reactor hasn’t fully powered up. We don’t have the power. It’ll be another six or so ummi...”

“You aren’t getting it, Leng Gnat,” the unusually stern Miyelonian interrupted my muddled justifications. “Kung Keetsie-Myau does not wish to see you in the game, but the real world!”

The real world? Unexpected. That said, I was done with quarantine and could in fact legally visit the Miyelonian space station outside the game that bends reality. However, before I went into the real, I still decided I should clear up one important aspect that I had somehow neglected earlier:

“Ayni, our Medic told me that you disappeared right off the operating table, even though you were seriously wounded in the battle with the Meleyephatian fleet. Gerd Mauu-La even said you could not possibly survive...”

“That’s right, captain,” the pretty orange kitty agreed easily. “I died right after entering the game. But then, I respawned after the required wait time in a healthy body with no wounds or damages.”

“Wait,” I couldn’t even believe what I was hearing. “Do you mean to say that you set your respawn point right on this starship??? But that’s a huge risk to your life! We are god knows where, very far from the known Universe! It is nowhere near certain that we will actually be able to get back from here!”

“Yes, that is true. But I have faith in your good fortune, Leng Gnat and wish to always remain part of your team. And so before the beginning of the surgery, I made the decision to change my respawn point onto the frigate fully aware of the possible consequences. If this ship is fated to return to our galaxy after finding such a valuable prize, everything will be fine, and I will be counted a hero. But if not...” the orange Miyelonian gave another very human-like laugh, “Gnat, I’ve been with you a long time and believe I know your character quite well. You will not abandon the Relict station — it is not like you to retreat or turn your back on such a unique discovery. Whether you can take control over the laboratory or not, it is better for me to be with my captain and share his fate. Is it really so bad to spend the remainder of your life with a person you love? Also, who in this cruel world wants me other than you and my friends? And all my friends are here!”

Chapter Seven. An Important Conversation

––––––––

THE VIRT POD lid slid silently aside, I got up off the soft cushion and took a look around. Someone had clearly been in my box. Instead of the monotonous white walls, there was now “living wallpaper” depicting the underwater world of an alien planet filled with saturated-purple seaweed, pure white stalagmite corals and innumerable snakelike creatures slithering between it all. The floor then was an imitation sandy bottom. With every step there even appeared little puffs of sand, and small bright creatures sometimes darted off in fear. Up above, the blue star of that world shone down from the ceiling as if through a layer of water. I wondered what planet this was imitating. Maybe the Miyelonian homeworld? Unfortunately, other than the name of the star system, Urmi, I knew nothing about the place where the Miyelonian race originated.

Beyond that, there was a new transparent emerald green table on a little carved leg, and on it was the distinctive black parallelepiped of a Miyelonian wallet and a set of clothing sealed inside a thin plastic package. First of all, I checked the wallet, activating it by pressing the opposite edges. Not bad. This was a multi-currency wallet which could perform transactions with the Geckho or Trillian money as well. And the account contained fifty thousand crypto — the exact amount I’d withdrawn from the game. For security’s sake, I set a password that would be as face-meltingly hard for members of other space races as it would be easy for me to remember. Something like “FoRtY tHOuSaNd MoNkEyS sTuCk BaNaNaS uP tHeIr BuMs” (thanks to fantasy writer Sergei Lukanyekno for that little lifehack), and I started putting on the clothes that had been set out for me.

What can I say about the suit...? I suppose it would be ideal for a cosplay party. A one-piece somewhere between pajamas and overalls, soft on the inside and covered with thick black fur on the outside. The hood even came with little “ears” sewn on it, which looked very much like a Miyelonian’s, while a three-foot long black tail dragged behind its backside. I didn’t understand — was this someone’s very elaborate idea of mockery, or was I simply insufficiently familiar with Miyelonian culture, and thus not grasping the full depth of the philosophical intent behind it?

The thing was that, as my psionic abilities had grown, I found myself unwittingly reading thoughts and emotions of those around me more and more often. And Miyelonians I didn’t know (nonmembers of Team Gnat) often bore poorly hidden disgust toward creatures not covered in fur. The bare skin of a human was unpleasant and even nasty to them. Maybe the Miyelonian costume makers wanted to help me look nicer in the eyes of the Great One? That may well have been, but I myself felt unbearably stupid in the ridiculous getup. And if it was intended as a uniform for my official meeting with the Miyelonian fleet commander, then I suppose I’d rather just go in the hospital gown and frayed pants.

The door, which had been locked for the duration of my quarantine, this time obediently slid aside.

“Follow me! Keetsie is waiting for you,” said Gerd Lekku, who was standing next to the doors (and I recognized the dangerous Brawler and fiancé of the Great One right away). He said nary a word about my appearance and led me down a well-lit corridor toward a bank of elevators. For the record, in the real world, Lekku also wore a blood-red suit of heavy armor and was in fact identical to his in-game avatar.

A high-speed elevator, then another couple corridors, the last containing a suspicious number of brawny Miyelonians staring at me guardedly. Despite their civilian dress, it was easy to guess these “peaceful residents” were elite First Pride fighters. Finally, my guide stopped next to an unremarkable door:

“Kung Keetsie-Myau is inside by herself, with no assistants, servants or even the guard detail her status requires. The Great One requested it that way. She’s showing you a lot of trust, human. Appreciate it!”

* * *

THE MODEST VERY SMALL room was utterly inconsistent with the level of this leader of the Miyelonian race. Furniture nowhere near new, poorly cleaned traces of a long-standing wire flare-up, carpeting so worn and faded in places that you could see the metal flooring beneath. Nevertheless, in the middle of the room, on an old and badly worn levitating chair, I did indeed discover Kung Keetsie-Myau holding an empty glass in her paw and reclining wearily as she attentively observed my conduct. I went down on one knee in respect, greeting the highly powerful lady.

“On your feet, Gnat. And pour yourself a glass of whatever you like,” the Miyelonian pointed at a small mini bar built into the wall and, after a few seconds of silence, added with a slight chuckle, “your unstated complaints are wrong. In fact, you’re double wrong. This is indeed my home. My parents lived here, and I grew up under this roof. And I am not the one who ordered the fluffy costume you so disapproved of. Believe me, I have seen some very freaky creatures in outer space, so the fact that some of them have no fur stopped shocking me a while ago. For the record, there was some sense behind that outfit suggestion, though. You have a good opinion of Miyelonians, have learned our language perfectly and you are comfortable around members of my race. And for those reasons, my assistants believed you would not be opposed to becoming a Miyelonian and in fact would be morally prepared to do so. Not to merely dress as a member of my race, but to truly become a Miyelonian. Gnat, do you know what that is?”

The Great One swiped her clawed paw, pointing at a large and clearly heavy metal container against the wall, which was covered in a thick layer of frost. I set my glass aside, which I’d filled with bubbly green wine from a strange spiral bottle, then took a closer look at the container. Hmm... What a familiar item! Sure it may have been somewhat strange to see an item I was familiar with in the game in the real world, but there could be no doubt — before me was an ancient container from a Precursor treasure hoard. And it even had the very same ancient hieroglyphs on the lid as the chest we’d dug up on the ice comet.

“I see you know the answer to my question. I’ll admit, Leng Gnat, you’ve really surprised me there. Few currently living entities know of the existence of such Precursor treasures, and only a handful have actually found one. But don’t be surprised, the game and reality are connected, and so the Precursor artifacts can be found in any world.”

The Great One seemed somewhat upset — the surprise she had prepared for me didn’t work as intended. I then filled my glass, then a second of the same. I walked over to the Miyelonian ruler and extended one of the glasses. Then I explained aloud, though it’s possible the Truth Seeker had already read the information from my brain:

“I have the very same kind of chest in the common room of my starship, though it honestly is now empty. And I know perfectly well what you’re referring to, Keetsie: the black pebble, once thawed out, starts to glow purple. But I didn’t use the ancient forbidden artifact to change race or game class, even though I could have. And I will not now.”

“Too bad,” Keetsie drained her glass in one swig and asked me to pour her another of the same, “you’d have made a great Miyelonian. You would adapt to our society easily. And it would make your orange Translator so happy! I didn’t even have to use my Truth Seeker skills to see how much she likes you, even in human guise. You’ll probably find it interesting to learn that Ayni even consulted with the ship Medic to see if it would be physically possible for a Miyelonian woman to have interspecies sex with a Human male. Anyway, I didn’t put in all this effort for the sake of that young affection-starved female. I wanted to thank you for the valuable information about the Meleyephatian Horde and get you, Gnat, out of harm’s way.”

Kung Keetsie-Myau was observing my reaction closely, but I just batted my eyes blankly. What the heck was she talking about? What “harm?” She had to explain:

“You must not have heard yet because you’ve been isolated from recent news. But know this, human. The Union of Miyelonian Prides has signed a peace treaty with the Meleyephatian Horde. From now on, the brunt of the war will be borne by the Geckho and their vassals. And meanwhile, the Meleyephatians are in a very serious mood and are even transferring their main fleet from the outskirts of known space to fight the current war with the Geckho. All our analysts say the same thing — that the Geckho are in a very tight spot. No, your suzerains will not be exterminated as a race, but they will be forced to bring in all their forces to defend their core star systems. And as for defending remote colonies and vassals, forget about it — the Geckho will not be able to find the resources. And so, the prospects for your home planet of Earth are very nasty indeed. I cannot see a force capable of defending it from space invasion. And you, Gnat, have been named an official enemy of the Horde, and thus you would be executed as soon as the Meleyephatians got their hands on you. So maybe that will get you to consider our offer and perhaps become a Miyelonian.”

The news that the Union of Miyelonian Prides had exited the war was very troubling, but I nevertheless insisted that my intention to remain a human was inviolable, as was my desire to struggle for the freedom of my home planet. And Keetsie didn’t insist:

“You know best, Gnat. It’s your life, I’m not your babysitter. For the record, there is one other elegant solution to this whole thing — Earth’s humankind could trade masters and become vassals of the Miyelonians. Then the scorching-hot space war wouldn’t touch you. And when your term of safety is up, those who covet your planet...” Keetsie made a second’s pause and corrected herself, “both of your planets, will be very few in number. If any would even dare.”

Based on the way Kung Keetsie-Myau cast off her ostentatious calm, straightened up in her chair and immediately turned serious, I realized the whole conversation up to that point including offering to let me change races was just working up to the thing she really considered important. And meanwhile, the Miyelonian ruler continued to build on her thought, at the same time showing that she was well aware of the state of affairs in my inner circle:

“Soon, your assistant Uline Tar will be marrying the Geckho Viceroy of Earth. You are among the invited guests and I am certain that a crafty opportunist such as yourself will be able to find a convenient opportunity for a face-to-face chat with Kosta Dykhsh. Ask the Viceroy what price the Geckho would be willing to accept to give up the title to your virtual planet. I imagine that, after the recently signed peace treaty between the Horde and the Miyelonians, it will have decreased significantly.”

So, I’m just supposed to up and ask whether the Geckho would maybe consider selling Earth to the Miyelonians? I was not at all sure that the Viceroy would even respond to such a provocative question. He might even throw me out and accuse me of treason or working for the competing Miyelonian race. But the Great One continued to try and convince me:

“Don’t you worry, human. The Viceroy will not be angered by the query. Much will become clear once you learn the history of Clan Waideh-Dykhsh. Or rather, if you are able to uncover their history, given the clan changes name regularly and information about their activities is scrubbed from all public sources. I for example had to use my political connections and even spies embedded in Geckho society to get my paws on what would seem to be completely run-of-the-mill information. At any rate, I’ll have you know that Clan Waideh-Dykhsh, as it is now called, has changed name on several occasions but, since time immemorial, it has engaged in the sale of problem territories the Geckho were unable to hold. Or the annexation of territories the Geckho had no legal claim to. Clan Waideh-Dykhsh works directly for the Krong of their race. They do so quietly and try not to publicize their activity, which is nowhere near always strictly legal. But that way, if some big scandal does erupt, it will all be blamed on some little-known clan, and no one will blame the ruler of the great spacefaring Geckho race. The scandalized clan will ‘collapse,’ but in fact just change names yet again. It isn’t hard to understand that members of Clan Waideh-Dykhsh do not want too much publicity, given the particular nature of their work. But did it really not surprise you that some apparently modest player was appointed Viceroy of a large inhabitable planet? He isn’t even a gerd! Or that even his future bride knows nothing about her fiancé and the forces standing behind him? And that the Geckho are undertaking some grand-scale construction projects all over your planet, but carefully concealing their true purpose?”

Wait, wait! She had voiced my own concerns and fears with too great an accuracy, adding her own commentary and difficult-to-confirm facts as reinforcement. Seemingly, if I were in the game just then, I would be seeing skill-up messages for Mental Fortitude, because I was now being read like an open book. And meanwhile she was trying to psionically steer my thoughts down the proper channel.

“Don’t sell your abilities short, Gnat. I can’t exactly read you ‘like an open book,’“ Keetsie chuckled happily, clearly entertained by my shame and fear as she established complete control over my mind. “Since our last encounter, you’ve improved considerably as a psionic. At times, it was hard to read your hidden intentions and fears. But the reason I am a Truth Seeker is so I can understand those I converse with and extract information from the very deepest layers of their memory. Yes, it’s an inborn talent of mine. For me, not reading thoughts is basically the same as not breathing.”

“Okay, let’s be frank,” I tried to calm down, make peace with the fact that my thoughts were available to her, and concentrate on what was most important. “Let’s say the Viceroy of Earth really does name a price at which the Geckho would be willing to get rid of their now problematic ‘asset.’ Let’s say your race accepts that price. What next? Will the Miyelonians pay up and take the place of the Geckho at the spaceport and other such structures on the planet?”

“No Human, that isn’t at all how it works,” came the Great One, having attained understanding in the main issue, stretching out back into her seat and turning to the wine. “It isn’t the Miyelonians that would have to put together the money, it would be the Humans. That will be the price of your liberation from vassalage. The price of freedom. Although if humanity has problems getting all that cash together, the Miyelonians could help you out. Not for free, of course. You and my assistants can discuss the rate and duration of the loan, as well as the form of remuneration. The Miyelonians are not fussy, and we would be willing to accept payment in crystals, crypto, resources, territories, or ancient Relict laboratories,” Keetsie drew attention to the last part with her voice and gave a satisfied chuckle when she noticed my fear.

But really, what was I surprised about? I should have expected it. Such a powerful figure, who was well informed about all important events of course would have already known that Free Captain Leng Gnat had found something so truly interesting. How many Miyelonians did I have in my crew? Tini, Gerd Ayni, Gerd Mauu-La, Orun Va-Mart. Four. Any of them could have considered it their duty to immediately share such important information with one of the rulers of their race. Although... Tini was working for Priestess Leng Amiru U-Mayaoo. He was sure to have told her specifically. That left three. Keetsie recently mentioned that she had spoken with Ayni. Yes, most likely the information leaked through Ayni. Although I couldn’t exclude my ship Medic either...

“It doesn’t matter one bit who told me about the ancient laboratory,” Kung Keetsie-Myau interrupted my attempts to guess. “You yourself were one of my sources. I have extracted much from your mind just now. But what does matter is something entirely different. After humanity pays the entire sum, the Geckho will no longer be duty-bound to defend your race. And after the synchronization of the game and real worlds is complete, they might even attack your planet... or rather both planets. Now obviously the Geckho have bigger concerns, namely the war with the Meleyephatian Horde. But know this, human — that chance would exist. And the Geckho would be fully within their rights to try and wrest away control of your ownerless planet, as would any other spacefaring race. So, it will be critically important for humanity to enlist the support of another strong race before the tong of safety is up. Naturally, I am referring to the Miyelonians. The standard thirty percent of resources extracted, plus the ancient Relict laboratory I mentioned, and we will provide dependable security for planet Earth.”

Here I couldn’t hold back and broke down laughing. The Miyelonian ruler turned out to be such a shrewd negotiator:

“Keetsie, you want two densely populated vassal planets, an ancient Relict laboratory, a fairly high amount of crystals, crypto and territories, plus a thirty-percent tribute from the fifteen billion people of our two planets. And all that without the slightest effort on your part, without so much as tapping two claws together?”

But Kung Keetsie-Myau wasn’t the least bit ashamed, and didn’t see what had me so amused:

“Gnat, you are still young and inexperienced, and so there is much you do not understand. In the galaxy, any player in the game of politics bases their decisions on three things: technological development level, authority and military might. The Union of Miyelonian Prides has all those in full measure, and that is why we are reckoned with and considered successful. The Miyelonians are truly capable of achieving their stated objectives. Either the nice way, by negotiating. Or the nasty way, by force. And I am the most powerful ruler of the Miyelonians and have grown accustomed to getting absolutely everything I desire!”

Keetsie straightened up in her chair again. I saw dangerous little lights flickering in the Miyelonian’s constricted eyes, while her voice rang out steely:

“Gnat, I need the ancient Relict laboratory. I also need two new vassal planets, but not nearly as badly. When I get what I’m after (and I will have it one way or another), my standing among the rulers of my race will easily be high enough to reach Krong status and occupy the throne of the sole ruler of the Miyelonians. That is the supreme goal of my entire life, and I am closer to achieving it than ever before! Human, if you help me achieve my heart’s desire, you will be generously rewarded. The title of viceroy of one or even both planets, the status of Krong of the whole Human race in the game. And, even more importantly, everyone in the galaxy will know you as my friend. That is the best defense you and your kind could ever hope for. No one would even dare glance sidelong in your direction!”

Keetsie was speaking very convincingly. In fact, to be considered a close friend of the ruler of the Miyelonian race would be dependable protection against all kinds of filth such as Miyelonian space pirates, or any other brigands for that matter. But still I wanted to find out what might happen if I refused to help Keetsie with her political plans. I didn’t even manage to ask that out loud though. The Great One explained all on her own:

“Once upon a time, I promised not to seize your home planet after its term of safety expires. And I will forever keep my word. But the political situation could change a great deal. The Geckho will soon be severely weakened and tied up with the war against the Meleyephatian Horde, while the Union of Miyelonian Prides is famed for the flexibility of its politics and the speed of its decision making. The rulers of my race might vote that we must take advantage of the situation and ‘take a bite out of’ our enfeebled neighbor’s territory. In any case, war will be declared on the Geckho. Your home planet, as a Geckho vassal will be designated an enemy. And I as fleet commander will simply be obliged to attack the enemies of my race in my zone of responsibility. Furthermore, Earth will have no protection, as I already said. I can’t say for sure whether the council of Miyelonian rulers will decide to let some of your people live as slaves for resource gathering on both planets, or to exterminate all fifteen billion humans. But in any case, I will abide by the council’s decision and treat the enemies of the Union of Miyelonian Prides with no mercy. So, think about that, Human!”

Chapter Eight. New Home

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THE MEETING with Keetsie was long over, but I still just couldn’t come back to my senses, running our conversation through my mind over and over again. The ancient Relict laboratory. Technically, it rightfully belonged to the last Relict in the galaxy, and thus it was not proper to discuss the fate of the ancient lab without Urgeh Pu-Pu Urgeh present. But the Technician had transferred control over all the station’s systems to me, technically making me its administrator, while leaving himself as a mere backup. Sure, I was nowhere near figuring out all the hardware, but the computerized security system considered me “chief director,” the one whose orders would prevail in case of contradictory commands. So on a purely technical level, if Urgeh Pu-Pu Urgeh dared to balk or try and stop me, I could always wrangle the station on my own. The capable Truth Seeker had probably read all that from my head, so any excuses such as, “I don’t have a solid grasp of all the complicated hardware” or, “I don’t have the authorization” would certainly not work. Keetsie knew that I could complete the difficult mission and deliver the ancient laboratory to Miyelonian space all on my own.

It was a pity to give up the ancient laboratory after all the hard work it took to get it. An insane pity, really. But the laboratory was really nothing more than a trophy, albeit an extremely rare one. And if I had to part with my trophy for the sake of humanity’s survival, I would not hesitate one bit.

But that wasn’t what I was caught up on. In fact, an unambiguous ultimatum to all humanity had just been conveyed through me: purchase your freedom from your suzerains, then voluntarily relinquish that newfound freedom and become subjects of the Miyelonians. Then and only then would our new masters promise not to squeeze humankind’s collective throat too hard, limiting themselves to a mere thirty percent tribute. Meanwhile if we did not accept that “generous” offer, Earth could expect harsh occupation by the Meleyephatian Horde or the Miyelonians resulting in massive loss of life and perhaps even the complete extermination of all humans on Earth from suckling babes to the most ancient of our elders. And at that, I felt I had a pretty good idea of the Miyelonian fleet commander’s character, so I didn’t have the least bit of doubt that the Great One would act on her threat if her heart’s desire were not met.

Meanwhile, I found myself unwittingly comparing Miyelonians’ offer to the previous one made by the Prelates of Tailax and the Meleyephatian Horde behind them. And I actually found the Horde’s offer more enticing — it would have furnished my race with new technologies, something the Miyelonians hadn’t so much as hinted at. On top of that, the Meleyephatians didn’t demand humanity get together a big wad of cash to liberate themselves from vassalage. Nevertheless, I had in fact passed up on the Horde’s offer and immediately informed the Viceroy of Earth about it and the threat to my home planet from the Meleyephatians. And I was planning to do exactly the same thing again. I.e., tell some influential Geckho the Union of Miyelonian Prides had taken an unhealthy interest in our Geckho vassal system and it was implied that I stood to gain personally if I helped them take it. As for the price of liberating humans from vassalage and the fate of the ancient Relict laboratory — I had decided not to jump the gun and instead wait for my business partner Uline Tar’s wedding to Viceroy Kosta Dykhsh. There I could have a private conversation with the representative of the Geckho on Earth.

Having thus made up my mind about galactic politics, I tended to personal affairs. First and foremost, I ordered myself a decent set of clothing from a vending terminal to replace the hospital pajamas and tailed costume. In a trade hub as large as this, one could purchase clothing for practically any size human, and more luxurious attire could also be ordered custom at automated ateliers. I tried both, choosing a track suit and day-to-day clothing from the catalogue, then ordering a tailored outfit for official meetings.

I also rented a fancy apartment long-term with a view of space, which was very similar to the one I had in the virtual game. And though that purchase ran me thirty thousand crypto, more than half of what I had in my wallet, I didn’t feel the least bit of regret. First of all, it probably reassured Miyelonian intelligence, which was most likely tracking me. They’d probably take it as a sign Gnat was happy with his life here, and not planning to vanish suddenly from their territory. In light of my recent conversation with the Great One, it was important to demonstrate loyalty and a willingness to live in Miyelonian territory. Second, it was no less important for upholding my Authority — could the famed Free Captain Leng Gnat really be expected to stay in some cheap capsule hotel? Well and third, in my very own comfortable bedroom, I was finally able to get some decent sleep.

* * *

PURE DÉJÀ VU. I WAS delicately awoken by a female visitor perched on the edge of my bed. Without even opening an eye, I already knew it was Ayni the Miyelonian. But I was extremely caught off guard to discover the cute little orange kitty in the real world in the apartment I’d just paid for, and so I had yet to determine how I should react to the intrusion and didn’t open an eye, pretending to still be asleep. But Ayni just stayed put. Then her little clawed fingers ran down my back. Next her hot tongue licked at my shoulder. A tickle at my neck and cheek from her whiskers, then she bent down right next to my ear and purred out quietly:

“Get up, captain! I can tell you aren’t sleeping! Your breathing pattern sounds like that of a wakeful human.”

So, had Ayni been observing me for a long time? It seemed stupid to keep pretending. I opened an eye and found myself face to face with a pair of glimmering peepers set behind the contented snout of my assistant. And given the Miyelonian was so close to my face, I decided to do something foolish and take advantage of the convenient situation. Sharply extending my arms, I embraced the alien girl, pulled her toward me and planted a kiss square on her lips. To be honest, I was expecting her to be ashamed and pull away or even try to wriggle her way out of my embrace. In that case, of course, I’d have immediately let go. But I was utterly unprepared for what actually happened. Instead of any of that, the Miyelonian woman pressed closer and embraced me forcefully, even wrapping her front and back paws around my body! The situation had clearly gone outside the bounds of normal playful foolishness, and I was scared myself.

Carefully taking the palpably warm body of the now rigid Miyelonian off me, I sat up. I just about had to use psionics to stun the overly passionate member of a different spacefaring race. Fortunately, that was not necessary. I had once heard from Ayni herself that Miyelonian females went stiff when struck by amorous moods, and their body temperature rose sharply as well. But this was the first time I was seeing it myself. Things got awkward. I’d gotten her all steamed up, flipped out and backed off. She would probably be offended. Although there was nothing else I could have done. It was all wrong and physiologically, as members of different species, we’d hardly have made a good match. Which was to say nothing of the fact that my apartment was almost certainly jam-packed with spy cameras in nearly every corner, and such footage would make Ayni and I famed as pioneers in a new genre of adult film.

I breathed a heavy sigh, got up off the bed and went to go wash up. When I came back, the orange kitty was already back to her senses and sitting in an armchair, embarrassed and even afraid to look in my direction.

“Let’s forget that little incident, we were both wrong,” I suggested and immediately changed the subject, asking Ayni to explain what she was doing in my bedroom.

“Gnat, would you like an honest answer? Or shall I embellish, fog things up, invent some action-packed story full of peril and intrigue?” the Miyelonian had seemingly already come to her senses and even started joking around.

I replied that I wanted the most honest answer possible.

“In that case,” she took an electronic key on a chain from her shorts pocket and twirled it around her claw. “I was given this and told where you had moved. I was advised to visit you sometimes so you wouldn’t feel too alone among all these strangers. I myself live in a different sector of the Kasti-Utsh III station, also in a well-guarded apartment, though perhaps a bit more modest. I moved from the Medu-Ro IV station just five days ago. By the way, thanks for paying for my ticket.”

Ayni did not clarify who gave her the key to my room, although it was not too hard to guess. Miyelonian intelligence (whether on its own initiative or after getting the go-ahead from Keetsie-Myau) had me on a short leash and was watching my every step and even interfering in my personal life. But I didn’t feel any resentment — it wasn’t a good time for that. Furthermore, let them think they were monitoring my every step.

“I know that another key was issued to the girl from Tailax,” Ayni continued revealing secrets of her race’s intelligence service. “Valeri-Urla was put back into the game that bends reality to accelerate her recovery from the operation. But you can expect the Tailaxian to come visit you in the next day or two. And yes, the corridors here are packed full of security, while the rooms next to yours have been reserved for First Pride fighters.”

I couldn’t tell whether Miyelonian intelligence had fully enlisted Valeri, or simply found yet another member of my crew and done everything in their power to make sure I “wouldn’t feel too alone.” Although, after how hard the Tailaxian had striven to rid herself of the controlling leash of Tailax, she’d hardly be willing to jump right back into a similar situation. But the First Pride? So they really did have to get Kung Keetsie-Myau involved. The Great One was taking a very close interest in my fate. She really, really wanted the ancient Relict laboratory from me, and Keetsie was doing everything in her power to keep such a valuable prize from slipping through her tenacious paws.

“Would you maybe wanna go get lunch?” the orange beauty suggested after noticing the anxiety and pensiveness running across my face. “There’s a pretty good restaurant a floor below here with a great view of space. You can order human food there, too.”

But I refused. First of all, I didn’t have the appetite, and I still just felt awkward talking with the Miyelonian. And for the record, I could sense that she felt the same way. Second, it was hard to explain logically, but somehow I knew that I needed to be in the game. And so I told her I was going back in. Ayni then I told to be back on our virtual ship in two ummi — by that time, the ancient laboratory’s subatomic reactor would be ramped back up to full operating capacity and a long-distance null transport would be possible.

* * *

THERE WEREN’T MANY people on the starship — the crew was still following my order to take leave in the real world and not to enter the game before the appointed time. Only the copilot was on the bridge, and he immediately assured his captain that the ships hunting us had totally lost our trail and were all on the opposite end of the star system. Through the surveillance system, I also noticed the senior Engineer at his workstation along with a couple guards.

That made it all the more surprising to discover a whole group of ladies yakking it up in the frigate’s common room. I went over there to get to the bottom of things. Princess Minn-O La-Fin was sitting in a big armchair and conversing with Valeri, who was sitting on the floor with her legs crossed and combing through her pet’s fur. They were accompanied by Nefertiti the Dryad, splayed out erotically on a beanbag and San-Sano, who was eating a meal at a little table. I knew why the Beast Master was there — she was recovering from her recent surgery, because the game quickly healed wounds and injuries sustained by the real body. That was all good. San-Sano then was taking a short meal break and soon the assistant Engineer would go back to work. I also understood what the Dryad was doing — she was an NPC and didn’t have even a theoretical way of leaving the game. But why had my wayedda broken captain’s orders and entered the game ahead of schedule?

“My husband, I have come with an important message,” Minn-O hurried to get out in front of my discontent. “Gerd Tamara has finally surfaced! She is in Second Directory territory, General Ui-Taka has officially provided her asylum and assigned her a personal guard. Tamara is tirelessly making appearances on the news and even on squares of large cities, giving fiery speeches calling on the people to unite against the mages. She is gathering mobs of fanatics that would be willing to follow her to hell and back, even put their lives on the line to ‘emancipate the planet from mage tyranny.’ But not all are fond of Tamara’s activity. They say she has survived four assassination attempts in just the last few days.”

The news gave me mixed feelings. On the one hand, I was glad to hear the former leader of the Second Legion was alive and well. On the other hand, the reckless things the girl paladin was doing had me very afraid. Tamara always had a knack for convincing and inspiring. The Second Legion, for example, nearly worshipped her and always went into battle willing to give their life for their dear leader. But now, by all appearances, the very same thing was happening on a much larger scale. The girl paladin had found fertile ground for her abilities and understood she had thousands and thousands of people behind her. I just didn’t know how Tamara had managed to break the rules and spent more than seven days in a row outside the game. I asked my wife.

“Things are quite bad, my husband. Some of the guards assigned to Tamara’s capsule were supporters of hers. And so the wanted terrorist was able to enter the game that bends reality unimpeded. And after that she exited in some other location. I meanwhile was not informed until it was too late. Now Tamara has left the ranks of our Relict faction and created her very own faction with the evocative name ‘Emancipation from Mage Tyranny.’”

Intriguing. Very intriguing in fact. I was only able to create and name my own faction after I hit the rank of Leng. Apparently, my friend had also attained the Fame and Authority needed to reach that status. But on a purely technical level, where were the nodes belonging to Leng Tamara’s faction? And what was the role of the ruler of the Second Directory in all that? In his world, General Ui-Taka was considered an ingenious strategist and, in the game, he had confirmed that reputation to devastating effect. Based on the fact that the ruler of the Second Directory wasn’t the least bit afraid of retribution from the mage rulers of the neighboring directories and had provided asylum to the wanted mage killer, the Strategist must have been betting on Tamara and her rebellion succeeding.

As if reading my thoughts, Minn-O added:

“My husband, General Ui-Taka has requested a meeting with you. Either in person at the Geckho spaceport, or long-distance. It seems the general has something to offer you. And your Chief Advisor Mac-Peu Un-Roi the Mage Diviner said he had many questions that require the faction leader’s personal attention. For example, we have reached a dead end with the Human-25 Faction that must be resolved. It no longer has any nodes, but you also refused to transfer its players into the Relict faction, or vassalize them. Serious differences of opinion have also arisen with the Human-3 Faction and the Mage Diviner has foreseen another great war in the possible future...”

Minn-O La-Fin had to stop her speech because the door into the common room burst open loudly and Ayukh basically flew in, clearly having just entered the game. This was the first time I’d ever seen my Navigator so shaken up:

“Captain Gnat, Krong Daveyesh-Pir, overlord of the race of Shiharsa has expressed a desire to speak with you! The Krong is already in a long-distance communication booth waiting for your call!”

Chapter Nine. Voluntold into War

––––––––

MY FIRST DAY under the Dome immediately sprang to mind. Ivan Lozovsky showed us this same majestic and mighty Geckho all decked out in combat armor up on a big screen. Krong Daveyesh-Pir, the all-powerful ruler of the Geckho race. It would obviously be wrong and even perilous to keep him waiting and thus express disrespect. And that meant I had to leave the game right away and fly like a speeding bullet to the nearest long-distance communication point on the Kasti-Utsh III station. But would some run-of-the-mill terminal even be able to connect me with the mighty leader of a different race? Just in case, admitting my poor understanding of the subject, I asked Ayukh what settings or possibly passwords I would need to tell the Miyelonian operators to get me connected with the Geckho ruler.

My Navigator spent a few minutes batting his eyelids cluelessly, then facepalmed in frustration and told me in a crushed voice:

“Captain Gnat, Krong Daveyesh-Pir is expecting you in the game, so it won’t be possible to get in touch with him from the real world. It’s a shame nobody considered that. I was so shaken up I totally neglected the fact that long-distance communication between the real world and game is not possible.”

What??? The absolute last thing I wanted was to keep the all-powerful Krong of my suzerains waiting and tick him off. It was after all in his power to exterminate all humans on Earth. But by the looks of things, there was no other option than to send a message through that same Ayukh that the talks would have to take place in the real world.

“Coruler Gnat La-Fin, I still have a poor understanding of the Geckho tongue, but have I understood correctly that you need to communicate long-distance in the game?” came San-Sano, my assistant Engineer from the magocratic world.

I turned her way. My main Engineer had told me often that San-Sano was capable and even talented, but it was hard for me to take her seriously due to her diminutive stature and schoolgirl appearance. Her always messy red hair, light gray skin with freckles or pock marks, whimsical braids poking out in different directions with little white and blue bows. Add to that at complete lack of make-up and perpetually grease-stained overalls, and she was the epitome of a tomboy — someone who could never be expected to produce intelligent thoughts or reasonable suggestions. So at first I wanted to rebuff the girl, who had come with an idiotic question at such an inopportune moment. But I held back and confirmed we really were having a long-distance communication issue — we wouldn’t be able to jump to a star system with a proper communication point for the next two ummi, while the important figure would not wait that long to talk to me.

“Well, you know you could use the Pyramid Contact Hall!” she suggested, as if it was self-evident. “My boss Orun Va-Mart said it is essentially a long-distance communication point, just much more advanced than normal. He thinks you could even use it to communicate with the real world!”

San-Sano’s suggestion sounded totally outlandish. And good thing no one other than my wayedda could understand what she was saying in the language of the magocratic world. Minn-O La-Fin also had her doubts, turned her head and breathed a heavy sigh:

“You’re wrong, sweetie. I don’t think Relict technology could possibly be tuned to work with modern communication systems...”

But the enthused San-Sano was unstoppable:

“With all due respect, mage ruler Minn-O La-Fin, you are mistaken! The laws of physics are the same everywhere, and it doesn’t matter what species produced the hardware. Frequency, encoding and everything else can be adjusted. Recipient and source parameters can also be regulated. Orun Va-Mart and I have already nearly gotten a handle on the complex technology in the Pyramid Contact Hall. And I would put my neck on the line to say the main Engineer and I could establish a connection!”

Well, her stubbornness and confidence inspired respect.

“Call in the Engineer! At once!” I demanded and the redhead darted away.

Orun Va-Mart appeared a minute later in the common room, already up to speed on the problem. Choosing his words carefully, he declared:

“It won’t be easy, captain, but I’m certain we can do it. We just need to know the receiver settings on the other end. They usually use seven-digit modulation or the root of their fundamental immateriality equation point. And I will need someone who knows Relict to translate all the numerals into that ancient language. As far as I understand, captain, you should be able to help with that.”

I confirmed that I would help the Engineer translate all the numbers and text, then looked inquisitively at the Navigator. Ayukh, who had recently been rejuvenated by the Precursor stone, nodded understandingly:

“Yes, Captain Gnat! I’ll go into the real world and figure that out right away. And now, you go work on setting up the tech!”

* * *

“FINALLY! YOU SURE TOOK your sweet time, Human!” a rumbling discontented voice crashed down on me as soon as Orun Va-Mart completed his thirtieth or fortieth attempt to input the digits and got the long-distance communication system up and running.

Authority reduced to 87!

An alarming and even frightening start to the conversation... And to make matters much worse, I couldn’t see a thing due to the shadows and bright sparks undulating all around. It was as if I was beneath a troubled stormy sea with bolts of lightning shooting through the water. But I was more or less able to orient myself by the voice and tell which direction the Krong was in, turned that way and got down respectfully on one knee:

“My Krong! My frigate is located in a different galaxy without any long-distance communication points. But for the chance to speak with you, my crew and I have worked a miracle and turned on and set up the communication system on an ancient Relict laboratory.”

“Is that so...?” the rumbling voice for some reason came from a different direction — not in front of me, but almost to the right. “Well then, that changes things entirely.”

I didn’t stand and turn in the new direction. Instead I commented:

“It isn’t all working properly yet, my Krong. I can’t see you; I can only hear your voice. But I am prepared to attentively hear out your orders and answer all your questions, my lord!”

Authority increased to 88!

Authority increased to 89!

“Admirable zeal, Human. First, I need a clear answer to the most important question of all: when will you be able to deliver the ancient race’s laboratory to Geckho space?”

Wow, just come right out with it, no beating around the bush? Just gonna grab the bull by the horns? And seemingly, the fearsome Krong hadn’t even considered that I might refuse. I tried not to reveal my anxiety and answered in an even, confident tone without giving any precise timeframes:

“My Krong, as soon as I am able to grasp the Relict navigation systems and enter parameters for a null jump. For now, my Navigator with all his reams of experience cannot even figure out exactly where we are. None of the hundreds of thousands of stars we can see are on any of the star maps. No known methods of determining coordinates are functioning. But we are working on the problem, constantly learning more about the ancient hardware and nearing a solution.”

Based on the roar he let out, I couldn’t understand whether the invisible Geckho was satisfied with my vague answer. But the Krong changed the subject nevertheless:

“Human, I’m sure you are already aware that our unreliable Miyelonian allies have exited the war with the Meleyephatians. That means the Horde’s forces will be freed up to fight the Geckho, and the battles are going to start heating up. The Geckho require the aid of all our vassals. And meanwhile, I have been informed that your people, despite their status as Geckho vassals, are doing little to nothing in service of their suzerains’ military campaign. I consider that improper! And so I am ordering the factions of Earth to muster two hundred fifty thousand well trained and fully equipped soldiers to fight against the Meleyephatian Horde! I give you twenty standard days to prepare, after which we will send landing ships from Kung Waid Shishish’s Third Strike Fleet to pick up your recruits. And I hereby appoint you in charge of recruitment as the most famous and authoritative Human of Earth. I give you all due authority, but also personal responsibility for carrying out the mission. Do you understand me, Gnat?”

Authority increased to 90!

Fame increased to 93.

A quarter million trained and equipped soldiers? Were there even that many players in all the Earth factions put together? To say nothing of soldiers. I had my doubts. But even if there were, my prospects were fan-effin-tastic — I would need to get back to Earth immediately and go on a mad dash all over the planet, acquainting myself with every terrestrial faction and giving them a target for how many troops I expected them to recruit. And where would so many people get decent weaponry, especially a quarter million spacesuits? And that was to say nothing of the fact that taking two hundred fifty thousand humans off Earth would be the final nail in the coffin of my plan to build a planetary shield and other defensive structures. It would also leave my home planet completely undefended and vulnerable to threats from outer space.

No, I simply could not allow it! And thus, despite the anxiety and trembling in my knees, I took a risk and objected to the great Krong’s order. No, under no circumstances was I going to impugn the words of a higher-profile player (thanks Gerd Tamara for once teaching me never to do such stupid things), but I could try and negotiate for more realistic and charitable conditions. And of course I had to be sure to tell the truth and not say anything that could even be construed as a lie because the consequences of an attempt to deceive such a mighty figure could be very severe indeed.

“My Krong, I understand your mission and will spare no effort to complete it. But might I share some thoughts and apprehensions?”

“Speak, Human!” the ruler of my suzerains graciously afforded.

“I just now left a conversation with Kung Keetsie-Myau, commander of the Miyelonian fleet. And I am obliged to inform my Krong that some important information came from the mouth of the Miyelonian war leader. The Meleyephatian Horde is sending its main fleet back from the outskirts of known space to combat the Geckho. She also said a war between the Union of Miyelonian Prides and the Geckho would be coming soon and was in fact inevitable now that you are ‘tied up with the war against the Meleyephatian Horde.’“

Psionic skill increased to level one hundred fourteen!

I still couldn’t see his face, but the fearsome indignant roar the Geckho leader let out made my ears ring and nearly knocked me off my feet. Seemingly, the perfidy of his former allies had upset the Krong, to put it lightly.

“Continue, Human!” he demanded. “What else did Kung Keetsie tell you?”

Okay then, now I had his attention. This was the very time to try and direct the Krong’s thoughts down the proper channel and negotiate more achievable conditions for my homeworld.

“Kung Keetsie-Myau said that all Miyelonian analysts forecast tough times ahead for the Geckho. In her words, the suzerains of humanity will be forced to send all their fleets to defend Shiharsa and other core systems. That the Geckho wouldn’t have the forces to defend secondary settlements, distant colonies and especially vassals. And so the Earth will be left defenseless against space invasion and will inevitably be seized by either the Meleyephatians or Miyelonians. After that, Keetsie tried to turn me to her side — she suggested I facilitate the transfer of the virtual planet Earth and both real ones to Miyelonian control. And she promised me all kinds of personal benefits if I did so — help attaining Kung status and even the chance to change race from human to Miyelonian. I refused. And now, when I heard the great Krong Daveyesh-Pir ask for this entirely feasible aid, I figured I should make an offer to my mighty suzerains.”

Psionic skill increased to level one hundred fifteen!

Psionic skill increased to level one hundred sixteen!

Mysticism skill increased to level fifty-seven!

I fell silent, awaiting his reaction and noting anxiously that my character’s Magic Points bar was draining at breakneck speed. I barely had a third of my mana left, and the conversation had just gotten started! Seemingly, I had been using psionics to the utmost of my ability just to add a bit of mental suggestion to my desperate plea. And the reaction didn’t keep me waiting — the Krong told me he was willing to hear my offer.

Authority increased to 91!

Fame increased to 94.

“Not to disparage the Geckho military strategists’ calculations, but I believe us humans could be of much greater use to our suzerains in a different way. My planet, Earth, has undergone only half of the tong of safety the game provides. Many terrestrial factions are only just now entering the game and have very low numbers. And thus drafting two hundred fifty thousand soldiers from Earth’s factions would be very challenging, though I still estimate it would be possible. It would be much harder though to purchase weapons and armored spacesuits, considering clan Waideh-Dykhsh’s practice of jacking up the prices for space imports six to seven times and bring down purchase prices for terrestrial goods by the same amount. I am of the opinion that it is in the interests of the Geckho themselves, if they want a quarter million human soldiers, to do away with this price discrimination and bring prices into a normal range, leaving just the enough margin for space traders to turn a profit.”

“Rational suggestion,” Krong Daveyesh-Pir agreed, “I will convey an order to that effect to the Viceroy.”

Authority increased to 92!

I thanked the mighty ruler and continued, with every new sentence gathering confidence and making my voice louder:

“It is a near inevitability that Earth will be attacked after the term of safety is up. Our two inhabitable planets, which have a total population of fifteen billion, would make a tasty morsel for any force involved in interstellar politics all on their own. Furthermore, Kung Keetsie-Myau does not make a habit of throwing threats around willy-nilly and will not forgive having the much-desired Relict laboratory slip through her greedy paws. And so, an interesting situation has taken shape. We know the precise time and place of the enemy strike — my home planet just after realities synchronize! The Meleyephatians and Miyelonians regard it as easy pickings, and they believe the Geckho will not be defending their vassals. But humanity could in fact be a thorn in the side of Earth’s enemies! We are already constructing a planetary shield and planning to build artillery batteries and other defensive systems as well. We have even begun forming our own fleet — I have purchased Earth’s first three interceptors with my own funds, and there will be plenty more where that came from. I’m certain we’ll also have cruisers, and well-leveled crews for all of them. In half a tong, the enemies will come up against a true fortress with an impenetrable shield, equipped with the most modern weaponry in existence, even technology from the Relicts and the Composite, which is a previously unknown race from a different galaxy! The enemy fleets will be depleted trying to get through Earth’s defenses and will suffer substantial losses. And at that very moment, the Geckho fleet can come obliterate the diminished enemy in one fell swoop!!! This is a chance for the Geckho to turn a situation that could shape up rather poorly to their advantage! And everything I’ve described is in fact very realistic and will require only one thing: my Krong’s permission to let those quarter million human troops remain on their home planet to guard this highly perilous defensive sector. These living resources will be utterly essential for constructing all the defensive structures I have described and to form an army of defenders who will fight for their home planet to the very last drop of blood!”

Mysticism skill increased to level fifty-eight!

Mana down to zero, I was spending Endurance Points on the last few sentences as I waved off the game system’s offers to take skills like Endurance Athlete, Porter, and others that would give me more Endurance Points or bring up their restore speed. I was reeling in exhaustion. I no longer had even the strength to raise my head. I was doing everything in my power, even more in fact. But how would the Krong react to my speech?

The Geckho leader took quite some time to respond. All I could hear was rasping and muted rumbling — either the Krong was wracking his brains, or he was consulting with someone. Finally, the ruler gave his answer:

“You’re an eloquent speaker, Human. And you pour on magic generously to bolster your words...”

A cold sweat ran over me — all was lost! He sensed the mental suggestion and now was wary! Oh, I was about to take quite the nasty blow for psionically attacking such a mighty player! This’ll be curtains for me. Such things are not forgiven. All I could do now was try and direct the Krong’s rage away from humanity as a whole and concentrate it on me in particular.

I had already mentally made peace with dying, so the Krong’s next few words came as a complete surprise:

“I like commanders and leaders with gumption. But what matters is that you sincerely believe what you’re saying. The ability to crush a weakened enemy is valuable and saving loyal vassals from destruction is an honor for the Geckho. However, I cannot accept your offer, Human. You see, I promised the commander of the Third Strike Fleet that I would send him Human reinforcements, and a Krong’s word is sacred! Furthermore, Kung Waid Shishish believes that you bring luck, which is why he wants to see you, Leng Gnat, and your army in this war. And so, here is my order!”

The Krong fell silent, gathering his thoughts. I then held my breath anxiously.

“The number of Human soldiers I expect to see under Geckho banner will not change — two hundred fifty thousand. It is not my wont to alter my decisions. But two hundred thousand of them can be mustered later, and remain on Earth — to level, grow stronger, and build defensive structures. But the first fifty thousand must be ready to load onto landing ships in just twenty days! With weapons and full space-battle gear. And you will personally be at their head, Leng Gnat! Your priority shall be to draft shock troops, heavy infantry and space landing troops. I hereby confer you all necessary authority to complete this critical endeavor. You may act in my name! That is all, we are done here!”

Chapter Ten. Primus Inter Pares

––––––––

“CAPTAIN GNAT!” Orun Va-Mart, the level-106 Engineer gathered the courage to approach me after I gave him a very severe excoriation a few hours earlier for the lack of video during my long-distance communication session. “San-Sano, the three Kirsans and I have completed the repairs to the frigate’s exterior. I have also composed a full list of our hardware that has been damaged or needs replacement.”

I silently took the tablet the Miyelonian extended and ran my eyes over the long list. A-hem... One hundred seventeen items. Well, that’s no surprise for a starship that just miraculously squeaked its way out of a losing battle. We had only haphazardly welded shut the breaches in the hull and got it back airtight, but the bulk of the repair work was still ahead of us.

“And as for the recent snafu with the video,” the disheveled Engineer took a second’s pause and breathed a heavy sigh, as if gathering the courage to continue, “I seem to have found the error in the settings. We have to test the long-distance communication. The thing is... maybe don’t call someone quite so great and mighty next time. Just in case. And yes captain, I have gotten a handle on the additional settings and now can confidently say the Pyramid Contact Hall can in fact communicate with the real world as well.”

I set my tablet aside and looked at the Miyelonian shifting timidly from one foot to the next.

“I suppose some of what I said in the heat of the moment was harsher than you deserved. When I said I’d make a bedside rug out of your hide, for example. But I want you to grasp my intent — you are no longer some nobody Engineer stranded on a pirate station because your previous captain lost his starship in a casino. You are now Captain Gnat’s main Engineer. And my crew only takes the best of the best regardless of race. We’re a true professional elite! We are one of the most famous and successful crews in the galaxy. I could be speaking with political and military leaders at any time. If I went and hired everyone who wanted to join, I could crew a whole flotilla of starships. And that is why this emblem,” I poked the sew-on patch shaped like a flying gnat on the Miyelonian’s jumpsuit, “must be earned rightfully by your abilities. I expect the utmost professionalism out of my head Engineer. And so, the fact that I was blind for the most important conversation of my life, unable to see the Krong’s reactions to my words, is absolutely unacceptable! That is all, moving on. What about the Composite interceptor?”

Orun Va-Mart straightened out his pressed-down ears, stood up straight and gave an exacting report:

“Captain, we have carefully dismantled the small Dero interceptor to its most basic components. We will now need time to dig around in the alien hardware and figure out how some of the systems work. But I can already say we got our paws on at least one highly valuable trophy: a fundamentally new type of hyperjump drive, much more intricate and sophisticated than the kind we’re used to. I have spoken with our Navigator, and Ayukh has confirmed that theory — enemy ships were arriving to the star system three times faster than even the speediest interceptors of the Miyelonians or Geckho could.”

“Not bad, not bad. Can we install the alien hyperdrive in our frigate?” I asked, given the lack of hyperdrive was our most pressing issue. But after some contemplation, the Engineer gave an unfavorable response — synchronization would be too difficult, it worked by completely different principles, the hardware was incompatible. There was a high probability our ship would simply be wrecked if we attempted to use it to enter hyperspace.

A pity. But the idea was sound. Although, for the most part, with the ancient laboratory and its ability to take us with it on instantaneous null transports, why did my frigate even need this sweet hyperdrive?

“We could try to install the cannons though!” Orun Va-Mart unceremoniously yanked the tablet from my hands and, changing the image, pointed at some diagram of mind-bending complexity. “Look, captain! The Dero was fitted with just one cannon, and it is not a laser or graviton cannon either. I spent half an ummi trying to study it, trying to find the point of installing such an elaborate system of mutually inhibiting solenoids. And I can say with one-hundred-percent confidence that this is a quadrupolar desynchronizer! The Composite weapon causes a material destruction reaction at the point where it is aimed. Not powerful enough to annihilate the molecules, but enough to have them decay into separate atoms and streams of elementary particles.”

Astrolinguistics skill increased to level one hundred two!

Electronics skill increased to level ninety-seven!

The sheer amount of new terminology in that! Furthermore, Orun Va-Mart’s anxiety made him throw a couple terms from his native Miyelonian into his Geckho, the common language on my ship. But still I understood. Then I pulled rank and copied all the diagrams from the Engineer’s computer onto my captain’s tablet. There was not only a diagram of the small interceptor’s cannon, but all the other devices on the alien ship too, and a lot of other systems from the Relict station. Did that mean, as my main Engineer said, we could use the alien weapon?

“Range? Rate of fire? Destruction radius?” I asked, but my subordinate just gave an indistinct grumble and answered that, without field testing, there was no way to know the alien weapon’s characteristics. And he also did not yet know how to aim it — no focus or target acquisition settings had been found on the interceptor. Perhaps these systems were implanted in the pilot’s body, but it was too early to make any claims about that. But shooting it only required power supply for the cables leading to the cannon, which the Engineer was fully capable of providing.

And when I asked about the rest of the hardware taken off the Dero and the diagrams the Engineer had composed, he answered that he hadn’t yet had enough time to study them. But he would be sure to figure it out and tell me his most interesting findings and conclusions.

“Okay, Orun Va-Mart. I’ll be awaiting your reports. But now I order the alien cannon installed on Tamara the Paladin to replace our broken laser cannon. And in one quarter ummi you should be ready to set up a long-distance call with the Geckho spaceport on Earth. Do you know the settings?”

The Miyelonian nodded shortly and assured me that this time he would do it all in fine fashion.

* * *

I REALLY JUST WANTED to have a talk with my assistant Uline Tar. I even sent the Supercargo into the real world to relay a message to the Trader saying I expected her in the long-distance comms cabin. But as soon as the walls of the Pyramid Contact Hall snapped on, I discovered a whole group of players thirsting for a talk: not just my business partner Gerd Uline Tar, but also Chief Advisor of the Relict Faction Gerd Mac-Peu Un-Roi the Mage Diviner, Igor Tarasov the leader of the Human-3 Faction, and General Leng Ui-Taka, ruler of the Second Directory.

“Quite the unbelievable concentration of high-profile players,” I chuckled wryly, hiding my surprise and even slight bafflement. “Two Lengs and two Gerds stuffed into one tiny comms booth!”

“More like three Lengs counting you, Gnat!” the furry Geckho woman rumbled contentedly and bared her teeth. “I’m glad to see you in good health, captain! And apparently you have a new trophy as well. I actually came alone, but these people burst into the cabin saying they have been needing to talk with you for a long while. Shall I have them escorted out?”

“Just try it! I do not see that you be woman and Geckho of race,” the muscular Ui-Taka grinned, demonstrating his decent progress studying the language of our suzerains. “I have critically important information for Coruler Gnat La-Fin!”

Before the four of them started squabbling over the right to speak first, I tried to pick up the thread of the conversation myself:

“I am willing to hear out each of you but, for starters, I would like to speak with Gerd Uline Tar — she is not only the sole woman among you, she is also my business partner and someone I particularly trust. No, the others don’t need to leave. You wouldn’t be able to anyhow — the booth is isolated during long-distance calls. I just ask you to stand in silence for a few minutes.”

After that, I asked the Trader to get out her tablet and be ready to take notes. Naturally, I didn’t tell her the whole list of one hundred seventeen parts out loud, limiting myself to just the most critically important ones. Then I asked to have them bought and delivered... here I considered it and decided the safest bet would be not to say where my frigate would be returning with these other people listening in. Instead of naming a specific star system, I gave Uline Tar a veiled instruction that I would be coming to “the system where we were planning to drop off the Meleyephatian spies.” The Geckho woman froze up for a few seconds, but then clearly remembered the Trillian system Taikhirhh-o-Tsykh and nodded.

“All crewmembers of Tamara the Paladin are to go there as well. I also need gold bars delivered to the spaceport — no less than eighty-two and a half pounds in total. I promised that to the Dryad Jeweler Nefertiti. And I always keep my promises.”

“Noted, captain. Anything else?” the Trader asked.

“Yes. First, ask your fiancé Kosta Dykhsh to figure out who should have greater say in the formation of the army of Earth — am I above him or below? I have to admit, I couldn’t tell that from what Krong Daveyesh-Pir told me and wasn’t confident enough to clear that up with the great leader of your race.”

Authority increased to 93!

Uline’s face didn’t change, so I couldn’t tell whether my business partner already knew I had spoken with the Geckho ruler or not. But based on how everyone else’s brows shot up, it was clear that they had not yet heard the news of the military draft or my being put in charge of recruitment. Oh well, I had to surprise them. And not only with that.

“Second, Uline, find a buyer for blueprints of a fundamentally new kind of hyperspace drive for starships. It can provide jump speeds at least three times faster than the best Miyelonian models at present. The buyer will receive not only all blueprints but also a functioning example with the aforementioned characteristics, so it’s all on the up-and-up. My asking price: one hundred fifty million crystals. If you can get more — half of whatever you can negotiate over one hundred fifty is yours!”

Authority increased to 94!

This time all four of them looked at me in astonishment. I saw even Igor Tarasov’s mouth crack open in surprise — the Human-3 Faction couldn’t even dream of such massive heaps of money! Uline Tar was first to come back around and give a satisfied rumble — the experienced Trader had no doubt she could find a buyer for such a promising technology, or that she could bring up the price drastically.

Then to myself I breathed a sad sigh. One hundred fifty million monetary crystals only sounded like an incredibly huge amount of money. In fact, it was only enough for two planetary shield generators for Earth. And I would need to find the funds somewhere to buy another nine such generators...

“Thank you, Uline! Now I have some important information for the humans...”

I told them about our suzerain Krong’s wish for the humans of Earth to be more involved in Geckho military operations and the fact I’d been tasked with assembling an army of fifty thousand fully equipped and battle ready troops in twenty days’ time. I didn’t hide the second recruitment wave of two hundred thousand either. I told them about the Geckho ruler’s order to bring prices on Earth into an acceptable range and do away with all the price gouging. I told them I had been given the right to speak in the name of Krong Daveyesh-Pir and bestowed with the authority to use any means necessary to complete my mission.

Authority increased to 95!

Authority increased to 96!

Authority increased to 97!

I felt surprise and even a bit of alarm when I saw how rapidly my Authority figure shot up. I was starting to get the impression that the leaders of the terrestrial factions, if they were even aware of my successes in interstellar politics and close acquaintance with influential players of other races, had been severely underestimating the extent of these relationships. And now they were merely reinterpreting that correctly, so the game system was adjusting my Authority to match.

“That is quite strange,” my furry friend Uline couldn’t resist a surprised comment. “Usually, new players in the game that bends reality are not allowed to be actively engaged by their suzerains before the end of the tong of safety. Yet here comes a demand for you to muster a whole army!”

“There really are good reasons though,” I confirmed. “The Miyelonians have exited the war with the Meleyephatian Horde and, furthermore, are already smacking their lips and looking at Geckho systems. And so Krong Daveyesh-Pir has announced a great mustering of vassal armies.”

Just after I finished saying that the Mage Diviner got down on one knee and bowed his head deeply:

“Coruler Gnat La-Fin, I humbly request that you hear me out! There is one thread of the possible future I have long been foreseeing. Since before we even were personally acquainted. The key moment, the divergence of probabilities which will define the future of Earth! If the Miyelonians join the war on the side of the Meleyephatian Horde, planet Earth will stand no chance! I cannot see anyone other than my Leng who could possibly have any impact on that. Coruler, at any cost — whether bribery, intrigue, promises or blackmail, you must make certain the Miyelonians do not attack the Geckho!”

There it is... I considered it. Based on what the seasoned Mage Diviner said, war between the Miyelonians and Geckho was far from assured, and whether this extremely negative scenario would come to pass hinged entirely on my diplomatic abilities.

And meanwhile, Mac-Peu responded, although I was still only getting ready to ask my Chief Advisor a question. Did he read it in my thoughts? Did he know this question would be coming? Or was he simply reporting on the state of affairs?

“The Relict Faction at present contains twenty-four thousand players with a maximum possible player count of thirty-one thousand. We are actively recruiting new players from both worlds of various specializations although, in light of what you’ve just said, we will now be emphasizing combat professions. For the first recruitment wave, our faction could easily prepare and equip fifteen hundred troops at level 80+ or six thousand troops at level 60+. And all the weaponry and equipment for them could be produced inside the Relict Faction, even rocket and grenade launchers and exoskeleton spacesuits. And by the second draft, we will also have production up and running for terrestrial analogues of Immolator combat robots and space fighter-interceptors. Thanks to Uline tar for the Immolator blueprints, by the way. We have also already recruited crews for the starships that already arrived, and they are in active training.”

Great! Even better than I hoped. I thanked my Chief Advisor for the information and getting the production of that complicated tech up and running. I inquired about other difficulties our faction’s manufacturers faced — did they maybe need us to buy up rare components of some kind in space? But in response, I was told there was nothing insurmountable, the faction could easily solve all present difficulties on its own. But meanwhile, the long silent General Ui-Taka had something to say about the military draft. The huge muscular Strategist, whose skin was a somewhat darker shade than the other natives of the magocratic world I’d come into contact with, cautiously inquired in his native language:

“Am I understanding correctly that the Leng of the Relict Faction will decide how many soldiers each terrestrial faction should provide for our suzerains’ war? And that there’s no way to dispute his decision, while noncompliance by any faction will be seen as violating a direct order of the great potentate Krong Daveyesh-Pir with all accompanying negative consequences? That...” the ruler of the Second Directory gave a nervous gulp, “is a weapon more powerful than the old story of the Graveyard hexagon or the three invulnerable hexagons which, if attacked, would have fatal consequences for the attacker!”

I understood the general’s doubts and worries — all I’d have to do is set an unachievable draft plan for a faction, and the fury of the suzerains would come raining down on them!

“That is so, but I do not intend to deplete any one faction, especially a strong one. I merely plan to carry out our suzerains’ demand. Furthermore, for Earth’s troops, the upcoming combat operation will be invaluable experience for the struggle against the Meleyephatian Horde — an extremely strong enemy and the most probable aggressor our worlds will face after the tong of safety is up. And for that reason, we need to figure out how to stand up against the Meleyephatians now, learn their strong and weak points. Fighting in the Geckho Third Strike Fleet will allow humanity to gain invaluable experience, learn new tactics and, I suspect, obtain new technologies.”

The huge Strategist took another few seconds to think and... to everyone’s surprise, got down on one knee and bowed his head respectfully:

“Three players here are technically the same status, but how plain it is to see that one is superior! I recognize your leadership, Leng Gnat! Our overall objective is the same — to defend our home planet from space invasion and I am prepared to aid you both in the game and the real world. My La-Taka faction is capable of sending up to fifteen hundred fully equipped high-level soldiers to join Leng Gnat’s army. Yes, spacesuits will have to be bought in space or from your faction, but considering what you said about new prices, I’m certain my faction will be able to find the resources. I swear it!”

“Something important has happened, but I was not able to fully understand what the Dark Faction Strategist just said.” Leng Tarasov grumbled. By all appearances, the language of the magocratic world was still a challenge to him.

My Chief Advisor explained in clean Russian that the Strategist had just sworn loyalty to Leng Gnat and told me that his faction would provide fifteen hundred troops for the army of Earth. The leader of the H3 Faction looked down and answered somewhat sheepishly that he himself was not prepared to make such important decisions without consulting the curators of the Dome project.

“I gave long-distance communication technology to the Human-3 Faction,” I reminded Tarasov. “In that kit is a basic device for determining the roots of the immateriality equation for any point in space. Assemble a device in the real world and bring it into the meeting room at Onega-3. Seven integers will come up on the device’s screen. Tell me that information and I will be able to communicate directly with the curators from the wall screen!”

Leng Tarasov’s brows shot upward in surprise. The level-111 Sniper wanted to reply or ask a question. He even opened his mouth to do so but, in the end, he just nodded in agreement. And meanwhile, Leng Ui-Taka drew my attention again and said:

“As far as I understand, Leng Gnat is planning to meet the leaders of the factions of the virtual planet soon to gather recruits. And that will include pressuring the rulers of the magocratic world who are not so fond of him to obey and share their troops for a joint operation. However, I see one obstacle that threatens to upend all these plans — the antimage rebellion instigated by Gerd Tamara! The rulers of my world need their armies to defend themselves!”

Chapter Eleven. Insurgents and Plans

––––––––

THE CONVERSATION wrapped up and I again found myself standing in the middle of the huge oval shaped Pyramid Contact Hall. The Engineer ran up alarmed and I confirmed that this time the call worked flawlessly, meanwhile forewarning the Miyelonian that we would soon be communicating with the real world.

“I’ll get it all up and running, Captain Gnat!” Orun Va-Mart assured me, clearly inspired after successfully completing my last assignment.

I then headed back to the frigate — the general’s tale of the expanding antimage rebellion needed consideration and consultation with Princess Minn-O La-Fin. Unfortunately, the shuttle was not on the station — it was being used by Eduard Boyko, who was back on the starship after finishing his shift in the laboratory. In theory, I could have summoned the Space Commando mentally and asked him to send the aircraft, but I decided to try something else — the laboratory was no more than a hundred feet from the starship and I could overcome that distance by pulling my body along with Telekinesis!

Unfortunately, it didn’t work despite my best efforts. The artificial gravitation was already set to earth level and pulling toward the laboratory, so I didn’t have enough momentum to get off the surface. But no matter! I commanded the Small Relict Guard Drone to fly over and it ferried me to the starship so I got there regardless, levelling a few skills in the process:

Machine Control skill increased to level one hundred eleven!

Telekinesis skill increased to level ten!

I found Eduard Boyko in the common room, for some reason sitting on a little sofa and embracing the scantily clad Dryad Nefertiti. Based on the way the redheaded hulk shuddered when I came in, his interaction with the NPC wife of another man was looking promising, and their captain had come at a very bad time for the necking couple. I wanted to say something to the Space Commando but... I considered it and decided not to. Actually, I had received several reports about Nefertiti fraternizing with all the men on the starship. Imran had particularly complained because the Dryad was nearly stalking him. She’d picked out the muscular Dagestani as above all others, standing watch in the corridors and constantly making him blush with her provocative behavior and revealing clothing (or rather lack thereof). Monogamy did not come naturally to Dryad-kind, so what I saw in the common room just explained why the NPC Dryad had not disappeared from the frigate after the death of her husband — her in-game connection to Kisly was not quite as strong as he might have liked.

I found Princess Minn-O in my captain’s berth. My wayedda was sitting in an armchair in front of a mirror wearing the traditional robes of a magess of the La-Fin ruling dynasty and styling her beautiful silvery hair into some elaborate and complicated do. She was aided in this difficult endeavor by the diminutive San-Sano. When I came in, the Engineer’s assistant grew embarrassed and started getting ready to leave, but I stopped her. It would be a great help to have the perspective of a commoner from the magocratic world, even more so a native of a different directory.

I told them what I’d just heard from General Ui-Taka. The number of rebels was growing every day at a simply exponential rate. The once local conflict centered around the arrested girl paladin from a different world had outgrown itself and was now a raging fire lapping at the whole planet and threatening to immerse the magocratic world in full-blown chaos. Acts of disobedience and attacks on mages had already been reported in twenty-six of the thirty-two directories. Several cities of the magocratic world had gone so far as to declare themselves fully liberated from “mage tyranny,” all while the raging mobs brutally slaughtered all individuals with magical abilities, their relatives, acquaintances, sympathizers and those who were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. In response the mage rulers had launched nuclear rocket strikes, wiping such disobedient cities from the face of the planet. And that had already happened over a dozen times.

“Our First Directory has had but one such incident,” my wife assured me, batting her lashes innocently. “The small town of Il-Fes-Kho rose up and the out-of-control mob was executing mages and their families on the central square, a total of sixty-seven people. And for that, the town of three hundred thousand was obliterated two days ago as an example. And the rebels learned their lesson. No further massacres have occurred.”

I couldn’t believe my ears! In my country, the army had destroyed a whole city, residents and all. Meanwhile, the La-Fin dynasty ruler considered three hundred thousand of her own citizens being murdered in cold blood to be utterly insignificant. She hadn’t even thought to tell me about it! I was very strongly displeased by that state of affairs. I furrowed my brows in dismay and ordered in a strict voice that any future punitive measures were to be carried out only with my explicit agreement. I even tried to communicate that mentally to make it stick in the Princess’s mind like a dogma, but... unexpectedly encountered strong mental resistance from my wayedda and backed off. As not to reveal my surprise about Minn-O’s impenetrable mental defenses, I turned my attention to San-Sano and asked her to tell me about the prevailing moods among the common people.

“The citizenry of the First Directory is devotedly loyal to you, Coruler Gnat La-Fin. And they pray for the rebellion to be put down expeditiously,” the young girl shot out without so much as blinking an eye.

“Come now, San-Sano. Drop the act. You are a poor liar!” I dismissed her utterly crude fib. “Know that it would be no challenge for me to extract whatever information I like from your head. But I do not want to get you in trouble with your acquaintances if their behavior is contrary to the law or might require the immediate intervention of authorities. And so, I ask you to tell me what you have seen and felt. No need to name names.”

San-Sano looked at me miserably, sighed and suddenly admitted:

“Okay, Coruler Gnat La-Fin. Members of the terrorist organization Emancipation from Mage Tyranny have in fact contacted me to suggest I murder you and your wife...”

Gerd Minn-O La-Fin abruptly moved away from the girl who was combing her hair, even leaving a lock of silvery hair in the comb. A laser pistol instantly materialized in the Princess’s hands. But I stopped my wayedda with a gesture because I could sense San-Sano was speaking sincerely and there was no immediate threat.

“They came into my home at night. I didn’t see any faces and could not identify anyone. But somehow, they knew I worked closely with the rulers of the First Directory and was in close contact with them. They thought we were connected outside the game as well, in the real world. I was told to plant explosives outside the Princess’s virt pod and tell them where Coruler Gnat enters the game. But I refused. First of all, I do not share their views. Second, I simply do not know what the criminals who broke into my home were hoping to accomplish. They spent some time trying to scare me, broke my nose...” she lowered her head and softened her voice to a whisper, “forced themselves on me and left. And the next morning I moved to a new apartment in a different district.”

San-Sano fell silent, processing the tough memories, then breathed a heavy sigh and continued:

“As for the question my Coruler asked about my acquaintances’ moods, I won’t lie. They vary. Most are apolitical and not planning to take part in any riots. Some are loyalists, who support the authorities. But around ten percent are prepared to take up arms to ‘earn their freedom from mage tyranny.’“

Psionic skill increased to level one hundred seventeen!

After San-Sano finished, she fell silent, awaiting the reactions of the two mage rulers with clear trepidation. Her statement, after all, verged on sedition. And I took my time with the answer. I told her I wouldn’t go digging around in her thoughts. But her thoughts turned out to contain critically important information for me and my family, so I studied them in the most attentive fashion, gleaning everything San-Sano knew about the tragic incident. I saw the masked faces of three people, heard their voices and tried to make sure the rapist scumbags would stick in my memory. Then I studied San-Sano’s thoughts. And she was scared to death though she was trying to stay positive. There could be no doubts. San-Sano was speaking the truth.

“I suggest moving from the Fifth to the First Directory where I can provide you with personal security,” I promised the talented Engineer. “Then the rebels and the mage rulers of the La-Shin dynasty can no longer exert pressure over you. I’ll also arrange a virt pod in a secure location. I know the real-exit-point change procedure and can help. Okay, San-Sano. You’re free to go! Let me speak with my wife alone.”

With clear relief, she exhaled and scurried out of the captain’s berth into the hallway nimble as a mouse. I had already locked the door and continued telling Minn-O what I found out from General Ui-Taka. In particular, the experienced Strategist had drawn my attention to the fact the rebels were shifting tactics. Tamara’s fanatics had previously been using partisan methods, attacking in small groups and vanishing when law enforcement showed up, only rarely gathering in large numbers. But all that started changing in the last few days. The rebels now felt strong and more courageous. In several directories there had been direct armed confrontations between large groups of rebels and military forces. And the professional troops had not emerged victorious anywhere near every time. Quite often the soldiers had actually refused to take up arms, and whole squadrons had defected to the rebel side.

Given that, the ruler of the Second Directory General Ui-Taka, who was engaged in a grueling war against the five most powerful neighboring states, had decided to seize the convenient opportunity and seek the support of Tamara the girl paladin’s fanatic mobs. The highly experienced Strategist and favorite of the rank and file thought it was stupid and even dangerous to attempt to hold back the wave of popular anger, which was sweeping away everything in its path. He instead thought it wiser to go with the wave, and if possible even ride it. And for that very reason, the ruler of the Second Directory offered asylum and protection to Tamara the insurgent leader.

However, as Leng Ui-Taka admitted in conversation with me, he had made a serious miscalculation. The armed fanatics he saw as new reserves for his army to help tame his hostile neighbors were far from burning with desire to stand on the front lines and defend the state which had given asylum to their leader. The rebels preferred to pillage and maraud, frequently targeting people who had nothing to do with the mage rulers and were merely law-abiding citizens of the Second Directory. The ruler had also failed to secure a personal meeting with Tamara — the wanted girl had started to act paranoid and cautious, concealing her location, refusing all personal meetings and contact. Tamara didn’t even speak in front of large groups in person anymore, instead having trusted technicians project a hologram of her, though it was quite realistic. And that very circumstance explained the several failed assassination attempts — it was impossible to kill a hologram, which was not in fact flesh and blood.

In our conversation, the Strategist had even put forward a cautious guess that Tamara might no longer be alive. The leaders of the uprising only needed the girl paladin from another world as a symbol, the banner of their revolution. Tamara was perfectly suited to that role whether broadcasting live, previously recorded or computer animated. So, there was absolutely no reason to actually keep her alive. In fact it would actually be dangerous to allow that because power over the world that emerges after a revolution is a very particular trophy. And it is very hard to share.

My talk with the general gave me very serious pause. Seemingly, my plan to draft half of the army of fifty thousand from the factions of the magocratic world could end up a complete fiasco. Given the expanding uprising, the mage rulers of the thirty-two directories would not want and in fact could not afford to share their most capable and loyal troops for a far-off space war — those rulers would need their armies to maintain their grip on power through the bloody turmoil.

“Don’t you think we might need loyal troops ourselves?” Minn-O La-Fin reacted anxiously to the news that the Relict Faction would be providing up to eight thousand players for the army of the Geckho Third Strike Fleet.

“Us?” I chuckled and tenderly adjusted a stray lock of her silvery hair. “We are in a somewhat different, more advantageous position than the rulers of the other directories. What was it General Ui-Taka said? It’s stupid to stand in the way of a wave that’s sweeping away everything in its path. Best to go with it or even ride it? Most residents of the magically imbued world firmly associate Tamara the Paladin with the ruler of the First Directory — as my comrade in arms from our former faction, as my agent in the magocratic world, a close friend and even lover.”

The last word made the Princess cringe in dismay, but regardless she kept silent. I then continued laying out my idea:

“Here it is also very handy that my frigate is called Tamara the Paladin, which provides further confirmation for the idea that Coruler Gnat La-Fin supports the actions of his supposed agent. And for that very reason, while negotiating with Leng Tarasov, I asked him to temporarily transfer the entire Second Legion under my command.”

Minn-O La-Fin, who had started lifting a glass of water off the table, even choked and coughed with worry — that move came as a complete surprise to her. I then smiled:

“Human-3 Faction leader Tarasov was also freaked out by that request, to put it lightly. Especially given I did not conceal my plans and honestly told him I was planning to redeploy all three hundred legionaries to the alternate magocratic world. It’s just that the Second Legion is so firmly associated with its former leader that Tamara’s troops coming under my command was the logical next step after bringing Tamara herself into the magocratic world.”

“And what did Tarasov say in the end? did he agree?” the Princess inquired.

“Leng Igor Tarasov replied that he would consult with the curators and get back to me with the cost of such an unexpected service. I think we will reach an agreement, given the Human-3 Faction will need a large amount of space currency to meet the Geckho’s demands, as well as weaponry and equipment — and that is exactly what we can offer in exchange for the loan of the Second Legion. And having Second Legion soldiers on my side could have very serious consequences. I know Tamara’s character very well. She may indeed be a fanatic, and doesn’t always think straight, but Tamara would never go to war against her own comrades in arms NO MATTER WHAT.”

My wife considered it, then cautiously noted:

“That may be so, my husband. Perhaps the Second Legion is our best defense. But what if General Ui-Taka is right and Tamara is long dead? What if your friend is nothing but a hologram, and the uprising is being orchestrated by completely different leaders to whom the words ‘Second Legion’ are little more than an empty sound?”

“That somewhat contradicts what you said about Emancipation from Mage Tyranny appearing in the game as a faction — the only person who could form such a group would be Leng Tamara. But if Tamara was in fact murdered,” here I bared my teeth predatorily, “that would be a huge mistake on the part of the leaders of the uprising, because I could also deploy a virtual Tamara in the game! In that case, we could have our virtual girl paladin appearing on the news to say whatever we like, directing the fury of the masses wherever it pleases us. Furthermore, unlike the leaders of the uprising, we could prove that our Tamara is no hologram but made of flesh and blood. I know at least two entities in the game that bends reality who could easily substitute for Tamara without anyone noticing...”

I was about to tell the Princess about Morphians and my plans to convince Fox or Vaa to play the role of Tamara the Paladin, but I was too late. A siren roared suddenly through the starship. Combat alert!!! And almost right away, violating my instruction to maintain radio silence, an agonized cry rang out in my headphones from Space Commando Eduard Boyko:

“Enemies on ship!!!”

Chapter Twelve. A Hatchet in Space Battle

––––––––

I SHOT LIKE a bullet into the corridor with my Annihilator at the ready, my helmet already donned, and my Listener suit’s energy shield activated. Not even a step behind me, Gerd Minn-O also rushed out with a laser pistol in her hands. Enemies? Where? I activated the Scanning icon and took a closer look at the mini-map.

Scanning skill increased to level Seventy!

Uhh... I only detected one enemy, and they were trapped in the corridor next to the destroyed cargo hold and engaged in a firefight with San-Sano and Eduard Boyko, who were taking cover. Furthermore, the enemy was labeled “Vahe-Gukko Composite. Level-134 Sentry-Parasite.” What a familiar name... It was the pilot of the small Dero interceptor we captured! Had the player set their respawn point on their own combat starship?! Taking that kind of risk was sheer madness! What if I had simply blasted the captured interceptor to smithereens instead of disassembling it and taking it onto my frigate? Then the pilot would be dead for good.

With such thoughts in my head, I got close to the fighting, noting in passing the corpse of the NPC Dryad Nefertiti lying in the corridor, her head shot through. I also saw the white Kirsan fleeing up the vertical wall into a ventilation slit with a smoking hole in one of the metal centipede’s middle segments.

“Captain, be careful! Don’t go around the corner! That thing has a forcefield and laser cannons mounted on its shell!” Eduard warned me while he changed the clip of the high-speed cannon attached to the right arm of his exoskeleton armor. As far as I could tell, he was changing from armor-piercing to electromagnetic rounds, which were more effective against robots and forcefields.

I also saw that there were at least two laser marks on the Space Commando’s armor. The burned through melted holes on his shoulder armor looked very much like they came from heavy laser cannons. Seemingly, the forcefield of the Space Commando’s exoskeleton armor was already cracked, given the shot made contact with his armor. And Eduard had an amazing exoskeleton suit, one of the most expensive, advanced and sturdy, it even had a high-capacity energy barrier. The idea of simply leaving cover and taking fire while shooting the dangerous enemy from my Annihilator immediately seemed not so bright. And given my low accuracy with the gun, it was nowhere near guaranteed that the interceptor pilot would die first.

“No matter. I’ll stun ‘em real quick!” I promised the Space Commando and tried to do what I had done to the enemy pilot before — take control of their mind. However... this time I was sorely disappointed. A solid impervious wall was the most accurate way to describe what I felt when trying to reach the enemy’s consciousness. Strange. Very strange actually.

“San-Doon, get back! Stay out of this! This is certain death for you!” I stopped the Copilot, who ran over from the bridge with pistol in hand and without so much as decent armor. “Return to the bridge and lock yourself in! Valeri-Urla, same to you! And take Little Sister with you! Turn off that damned siren, too. It’s breaking my concentration!!!”

The Pilot and Beastmaster didn’t argue, nodded in silence and left the dangerous area.

“Captain, do you think you should maybe summon the Relict drones to help? Your two ancient drones could turn this dangerous brute into dust!” Eduard suggested, seeing our general cluelessness.

But I categorically refused. This opponent could block mental attacks! That was what mattered and intrigued me most now. And at that the interceptor pilot was obviously not blocking my attack with high Intelligence or magical abilities — the last time I couldn’t sense particular resistance. That meant they must have turned on some built-in defense in their suit, or rather shell. And if that is so, the psionic-blocking system was very, very intriguing! Humanity would soon have to go head-to-head with the Meleyephatians, and all Meleyephatians were famed for their ability to mentally attack opponents. And so humanity had a vital need for some way to defend against mental attacks!

“They’re on the move! Retreat!” I warned Eduard, having noticed the red marker on the mini-map go into motion. We both jumped back to the spiral staircase.

Sib-O-O-Lu. Vahe-Gukko Composite. Squadron 8347. Level-134 Sentry-Parasite.

Yes, it’s definitely them! I caught a glimpse of the ammonite-like creature as they came around the corner, slithering on their many tentacles. I also noticed a few bright flashes on the glimmering spherical forcefield surrounding the brute — that was San-Sano and Gerd Minn-O La-Fin. They’d both run over on the upper deck, joined forces, and were now attacking the enemy from behind.

The Sentry-Parasite didn’t turn to face the new danger, but the little turrets attached to their shell did instantly and lit up with bright flashes. Minn-O’s cry to warn of the danger came too late. Although my wayedda herself had managed to escape the kill zone, San-Sano hesitated and added herself to the list of casualties from my crew in this bitter confrontation. Sticking out for just a second from his cover, Eduard nearly joined the deceased girl, staggering back in his already smoking and trashed armor.

“Quick little bastard!” my pal commented on his vexing slip-up. “He just shoots too fast and accurately. And it really hurts!”

I just nodded in silence, trying not to get distracted and looked at the mini-map, which revealed many of the enemy player’s systems in my scan. One of those systems would switch off their mental defense. But which one? I didn’t want to make a mistake, turn off the wrong one and kill this valuable enemy. And I could easily kill them (for example by summoning my drones or switching off the Composite Integrity Monitor — that was precisely how I killed it the last time). However, I wanted this pilot alive. You can’t loot a dead body, and the chance that the specific system I wanted, the psionic defense one, would drop was absolutely miniscule. And I didn’t want to risk losing such a rare trophy.

“Let’s go further down the corridor!” I shouted to Eduard, again having noticed the dangerous “snail” coming our way. “Don’t let ‘em get a shot on you. I put a marker on the enemy to make them easier for you to track!”

Targeting skill increased to level fifty-four!

Telekinesis skill increased to level eleven!

Using Telekinesis, I sent the space ammonite flying back a few yards around the corner, winning Eduard and I time to take closer cover. Pretty heavy. The action took lots of effort and nearly a quarter of my mana.

It’s hard to concentrate with a murderous beast on your trail. A thought flickered up that it would be great if Urgeh Pu-Pu Urgeh were here with his uncanny ability to disable sense organs. Defense against psionics wouldn’t protect against that ability (as I found out when he tested it out on me), and how can you shoot lasers when you can’t see?

Would you like to take the skill Disorientation?

The system message popped up so unexpectedly I actually shuddered. Then I read it and smiled in satisfaction — so that’s what the skill was called! Yes, I’ll definitely take it! I got the feeling it would come in handy many times with my aggressive and reckless style of gameplay.

You have taken the skill Disorientation level 1!

Okay, the last of eighteen possible abilities for my level 102 had been taken, and the next time I could add to my skill arsenal would only come at the very distant 150. It was hard to say when that would even happen. At any rate, this was the perfect chance to test out my new toy on the overgrown space snail!

Disorientation skill increased to level two!

Disorientation skill increased to level three!

Have at you! Didn’t see that coming? I could sense it was working, and I was generously pouring in Magic Points. Thankfully, the new skill was fairly forgiving in terms of mana expenditure. Again! Again!! Again!!!

Disorientation skill increased to level four!

Disorientation skill increased to level five!

“What, don’t like that? There!” I came fully out from behind the cover and, with flagrant gloating, watched my opponent spinning senselessly in place on the floor.

Disorientation skill increased to level six!

Sib-O-O-Lu clearly couldn’t see or hear a thing and thus couldn’t orient themselves in space. The turrets on their spiral shell were spinning violently, but not firing. No longer hiding, I walked up closer. I spent a few seconds standing just an arm’s length away from the disoriented enemy, then took San-Sano’s fallen laser pistol in my hand. I set the weapon to constant beam and pointed it at the space ammonite. No, I was not going to kill them, but I had to get through the Sentry-Parasite’s forcefield. In theory, I could look for the corresponding electric system and turn it off using Machine Control, but I decided not to fuss around and do things the easy way. But I didn’t know the capacity of his shield so, just in case, I asked for a bit of help:

“Minn-O, help me out! Set your pistol to constant beam and toast this thing until its defenses are down!”

Two blindingly bright rays extended toward the Sentry-Parasite. Woah! Pretty good shield! It took about twenty seconds with two combat lasers before the glimmering forcefield encasing Sib-O-O-Lu disappeared.

Sharpshooter skill increased to level fifty-two!

Disorientation skill increased to level seven!

I stashed the red-hot pistol in my inventory and turned around.

“Eduard!” I called over the Space Commando, who was watching us. “Walk up to this ammonite and give it a couple knocks with something heavy! Just don’t accidentally bash its shell in! We just need to stun it. We need this thing alive!”

The shock absorbers of his heavy armor suit screeching, Eduard Boyko walked up closer and in his huge armored glove appeared... an ordinary hatchet. With three precise blows, the Space Commando broke all the laser cannons off the ammonite’s shell:

“That’s to stop you stinging me again, brute!” the soldier barked. After that, he waved and kicked the Sentry-Parasite’s soft pliant body hard with his heavy steel boot.

A moment later, the body, huge head and every last tentacle sucked back into the shell. Turning the hatchet around so the flat end faced forward, the Space Commando brought the ancient weapon down on the pilot’s shell with a hollow thud. The body parts shot out of the shell again, and Sib-O-O-Lu’s tentacles hung limp, their shell tilted right and collapsed to the floor. I was afraid that my subordinate had swung too hard and maybe killed the valuable captive. The thud was just far too loud. But no, our prisoner was still alive.

No longer in a hurry, I again studied the list of systems detected in my scan, lining up the devices with the metal outgrowths and bumps on the spiral shell. “There, by the way, is the Pilot Force Protection System,” I said, pointing Eduard to a rectangular plaque on the pilot’s shell and ordering it picked off. And there was the Intuitive Aiming System — the thing my Miyelonian Engineer had spent so long searching for on the Dero interceptor to no avail. Couldn’t hurt to break that off for study either.

Electronics skill increased to level ninety-eight!

And there was the thing I needed for myself — a set of three closely set sharp spikes, as it turned out, were the Mental Signal Blocker. Eduard pried all three off with his knife as I asked. And right after that, the mind of the Sentry-Parasite became readable. It was surprisingly easy to read their mind, in fact. Honestly, the first two minutes the stunned pilot was having a hard time thinking. Their thoughts were muddled. But at a certain point, the enemy “switched on:”

“It hurts... Oh it really hurts! BODY CONDITION ANALYSIS PROCEDURE INITIATED. Shell broken in seven places. Mantle lacerated under shell. Third right tentacle severed. Blue lymph fluid leaking into air bladder. Wound cannot be treated, death inevitable. ERROR! ENERGY UNIT DAMAGED. ERROR! NO LINK TO VISUAL SENSORS. Contacts appear broken. Shield down, generator removed together with scrap of flesh. Implanted electronics not working. O-Lu not responding. It’s unusual not to hear the symbiote’s thoughts. What did I do to deserve this? Anyway, it doesn’t matter. All that does matter is that I have completed the most important mission of my life. The prediction of the great prophet Kung Var-O-O has been confirmed — the enemy has come to our dwelling place! And O-Lu and I had the great fortune to detect the threat! Our names will be recorded in the historical memory units of our descendants for all eternity! Good thing the Composite has been preparing for the Final War for two hundred seventeen tongs. Twelve thousand flotillas have already been fully equipped and staffed, and our half a million starships are spoiling for a fight. The Composite has never been stronger! The enemy will bitterly regret deciding to attack us! The enemy ship will not be able to leave. Our sensors throughout the star system will track their trajectory. The trespassers are doomed... Woah... That really hurts... I can’t get out of my virt pod without O-Lu... As he cannot without me... But our death will be avenged...”

“Captain! Enemy ships at immediate proximity!!!” the voice of the copilot came over the loudspeaker at the same time as the combat alert siren kicked on again.

We’d been found! Either they detected our radio communications, or Sib-O-O-Lu sent them their coordinates. In any case, we needed to get out of here at once. I was watching carefully when Technician Urgeh Pu-Pu Urgeh commanded the ancient laboratory to jump within this star system before. There was nothing technically difficult about it. He just had to input the proper settings (including the transport of all objects inside the distortion dome). I’ll try to do it on my own.

I closed my eyes and concentrated. I tried to imagine the main hall of the Relict laboratory and the control console. There. Here’s where you change the settings. Move this switch to lower position. Power supply. Coordinate calculation. Remove the lock mechanism. Verify the command. Go!!!

Telekinesis skill increased to level twelve!

Electronics skill increased to level ninety-nine!

Machine Control skill increased to level one hundred twelve!

You have reached level one hundred three!

You have received three skill points (total points accumulated: six).

We made it! At least forty Dero interceptors were already spinning loops nearby, releasing whole clouds of drones, probes and sensors into space. There was no doubt that they would soon be able to find and uncover us. Just then, the laboratory and Tamara the Paladin were brought nearly into the corona of the nearby star. Radiation was off the charts. Nothing could survive long in such extreme conditions. I glanced in alarm at the status of the ancient laboratory’s distortion screen. The shield would hold for fifteen minutes. Not bad. That gave us time to make it somewhere else.

I opened my eyes and first of all looked at the captive enemy — I was distracted and not keeping up their disorientation, so they might have already come back around. But it was too late. Sib-O-O-Lu the Sentry-Parasite was already dead...

Chapter Thirteen. Going Home!!!

––––––––

WHERE IS THAT damned Relict? The laboratory’s subatomic reactor had already been up to full power for an hour and a half. The rest of the frigate crew had long since returned, but Urgeh Pu-Pu Urgeh still had not yet reentered the game. Maybe something had happened to the ancient Technician? Maybe he was wrong about his virt pod’s condition and the safety of his refuge?

“We’re changing location again!” I ordered the Engineer and Navigator, who I’d taught how to pilot the ancient laboratory.

For the third time in the last hour we had changed our position. It was both essential and a way of quickly leveling skills for my team. It was essential because the star system was now positively lousy with Composite starships. Without even using active scanning methods, we had detected over fifty thousand small interceptors and ships of larger classes, all darting from planet to planet spilling out probes and setting up intricate equipment. A few times Composite interceptors came relatively near us — inside three hundred thousand miles, or once even just thirty thousand. For a star system with distances measured in the tens and even hundreds of millions of miles, such close calls made me suspicious.

Observing the maneuvering enemy ships with greater and greater anxiety, our Analyst finally gave in and spoke up through the universal translator:

“Capitan. Must to speak. Separate cabin. One-on-one.”

For the first time in my memory, the Analyst had decided not to share his calculations with the whole team, preferring instead to relay his conclusions to his captain alone. Very intrigued, I stood up from my chair and pointed the Jarg into the corridor. The only places with no potential eavesdroppers now were my business partner Gerd Uline Tar’s empty cabin or my own. Gerd Ayni the Miyelonian, who was Uline’s roommate for the time being, was conducting a Geckho language class for crew so that room would remain vacant. Princess Minn-O meanwhile was attending that Geckho language lesson, so the captain’s berth was also safe.

I could also have asked NPC Jeweler Nefertiti to lend me her workshop for a bit. But I decided against it, because all the surfaces there were covered in tiny items, and the Jarg and I could easily overlook something valuable and knock it onto the floor or even crush it. Yes, you did not mishear about Nefertiti. To the great surprise of myself and the rest of the crew, the NPC Dryad had in fact respawned on my frigate just a step away from Space Commando Eduard Boyko, rather than her legal husband Kisly the Machinegunner. Eduard himself was highly embarrassed at the half-naked dryad hanging off his neck with tender embraces. He lowered his eyes and muttered something like, “it just sort of happened, I’m not made of stone,” and promised to come clean to Kisly when he got the chance.

“This way!” I invited the spiny space armadillo into my cabin and closed the door behind him.

The Jarg waddled into the middle of the room on his six feet and hung the universal translator around his neck:

“Captain. Complex calculation. Important conclusion. Composite knowing our coordinations. Period. Knowing well. But not revealing. Playing around with we. Scaring. Forcing out. Wanting we fly away. Going home.”

“What do they want that for?” I raised my eyebrows in surprise.

It wasn’t that I doubted the Analyst’s calculations — the Jarg had displayed an astonishing propensity for complex and far-reaching conclusions many times before — but there was something illogical in the space alien’s words. Why would the Composite rather play tag than find us and get back their little ship?

The Jarg... or actually Gerd Jarg (!!!) Woah! The Analyst’s status went up right before my eyes! His Fame wasn’t likely to have changed — we were the only two in the cabin. That must have meant his Authority just grew. Was my high opinion of the Jarg’s abilities the straw that broke the camel’s back and upped his rank?! Cool if so. I congratulated my crew member on the promotion.

“Timely. Intelligence promote growth strongly,” the Jarg commented thoughtfully, clearly currently spending his free points. The space armadillo’s speech immediately became much more correct. “Now a more accurate prognosis. The Composite DEFINITELY knows our coordinates. But is trying not to reveal that knowledge. The interceptor pilots are making mistakes ON PURPOSE. When flying toward us. The Composite is aware of null transport. The Composite has nearly grasped this technology. The ships have already laid out detectors. They want to get us to go back. Home. They will then have their enemy’s coordinates. And with time, the Composite could come pay our galaxy a surprise visit.”

“‘With time,’ how long would that be?” I latched into that critical aspect of Gerd Jarg’s prognosis. “One day? One tong? One thousand tongs? I need something concrete, Analyst!”

The spiny six-legged armadillo closed his eyes and stood still. I didn’t stop the Jarg and waited patiently, nervously pacing the berth to and fro. There was a lot riding on the Analyst’s response, all the way up to the fate of planet Earth. Three minutes passed before he switched back on and gave a response:

“Captain Gnat, given the known parameters of null transport, the Composite invasion will take between twenty standard days and a quarter tong! I cannot make a more accurate prognosis than that — insufficient data.”

For a few seconds, the Jarg and I stared into one another’s eyes, both understanding the critical importance of that information. We would be bringing half a million starships of an aggressive and highly technologically advanced civilization behind us. Should we go to a random point int he Universe to get the Composite off our trail? Or... I spent a few minutes standing in silence, then breathed a heavy sigh, having come to a difficult decision.

“Kharsssh-O? The Throne World of the Meleyephatian Horde?” Gerd Jarg guessed my line of thought unfailingly, confirming my very high opinion of his analytical abilities. I nodded in silence. That way, the main fleet of the Meleyephatian Horde would be tied up with something other than the war against the Geckho and their vassals. But would we perhaps not be trying to extinguish the fire of war with gasoline?

Just in case, I warned the Analyst not to tell anyone, though I had no doubts that Gerd Jarg would know well enough to keep his mouth shut:

“Not a word to anyone about this conversation or your calculations! Not here on the frigate, not back home! The future of both of our worlds depends on it!”

* * *

“READY, CAPTAIN! I FINALLY got it within the acceptable error range!” Ayukh the Navigator, his eyes sunken in exhaustion, turned away from the monitor. “Of course, more points would be nice for higher correlation and confidence but, overall, we’re in an acceptable range. We can now enter the coordinates for the end point of the null transport!”

I walked over and glanced at the furry Geckho’s calculations. Unknown formulas of mind-bending complexity, endless columns of digits. Maximum allowable deviation, dispersion, accounting for time factor, tensor nonlinearity of space... No, I didn’t understand a single thing and so I tried a different tact — I read the Navigator’s emotions and thoughts. There I discovered pride at a job well-done, a sense of triumph and jubilation at the fact he was able to solve a task of such exceptional difficulty.

Psionic skill increased to level one hundred eighteen!

Basically, what my highly experienced Navigator had accomplished over the last three ummi was hard to call anything short of a miracle. Ayukh himself had written a program to correlate the known coordinates of the Relict laboratory’s last several jumps with the navigation computer on Tamara the Paladin using data we had extracted from the ancient station’s memory. It used fundamentally different coordinate systems, different calculation principles and just overall different logic, but still he found a way to line it all up. Not right away, of course. We first tested the accuracy of the Navigator’s calculations by making a few jumps inside the star system before the cautious Ayukh finally said he was confident it would succeed.

“Continuing to wait for Urgeh Pu-Pu Urgeh is becoming too dangerous,” I announced to the crew, which was awaiting my decision. “We will leave without the Relict Technician. Navigator, the star system coordinates I will tell you have to be translated into the Relict data format. Engineer, prepare the station for null transport!” I also sent the last part mentally to Orun Va-Mart, who was inside the ancient laboratory.

“Where are we going, Captain Gnat? Taikhirhh-o-Tsykh?” Ayukh guessed with a satisfied rumble, sitting at his workstation and flipping the navigation system tumblers one after the next.

I turned off the loudspeaker and said only for the two pilots, Analyst and Navigator who were on the bridge:

“The Kharsssh-O system. Exiting twelve thousand miles from the second planet.”

That immediately wiped the smirk off the Navigator’s furry snout. Ayukh took a nervous gulp, then gave a muted rumble — not as a threat, but simply to show his extreme composure. And I should say! We were going into the very lair of our nemesis.

I sent another mental message to my Engineer:

“Orun Va-Mart, prepare to receive coordinates from the Navigator. And the laboratory’s invisibility shield cannot be allowed to go down for even a second! If it does, you’ll pay with your head!”

After the Engineer confirmed receipt, I turned the loudspeaker back on and decided to prepare the team for what we had ahead of us. Naturally, without revealing all my plans.

“Attention, crew! Full readiness! Tamara the Paladin will now be returning to our galaxy with the Relict laboratory. There is a high likelihood we will emerge in Meleyephatian Horde space. That is...” I stumbled for a second, thinking up a more or less plausible explanation, “a quirk of the Relict null transport navigation system. We will be spat out at one of the weak points in space nearest to the coordinates we entered and the majority of them, as bad luck would have it, are located in Horde space. And thus all Frigate systems are to remain inactive. Zheltov, this is not for you. All others, complete radio silence! Exiting the game is strictly forbidden! Your captain has been named an enemy of the Meleyephatian Horde so, if they find us, the kid gloves will be off. We’ll be annihilated instantly. Right after we come out of warp, we will start accumulating energy for our next null transport to get out of danger! Beginning countdown. Three. Two. One. Go!!!”

The image on the large aggregate monitor changed instantly. The gloomy neutron star of the alien world disappeared. In its place, half of the screen was occupied by the large densely populated planet Kharsssh-O II — homeworld of the Meleyephatians, their historical origin point and the official capital of the Horde. A brownish-orange ball blanketed in millions of lights, especially visible on the night side. No oceans or seas, just darker sectors in the mountains and brighter spots for urban areas, all spilling together into one single gigalopolis that encompassed the entire planet, which was inhabited by half a trillion souls. It had three belts of orbital rings with wharfs constructing starships and docks with parked ships. Innumerable orbital elevators delivering cargo to the surface and back to near space. And tens of thousands of starships of various classes flitting all around.

Cartography skill increased to level eighty-seven!

Cartography skill increased to level eighty-eight!

Eagle Eye skill increased to level ninety-seven!

“We came out of warp pretty close...” Starship Pilot Dmitry Zheltov shuddered nervously, watching a huge spherical ore carrier as it drifted just a few miles away from us.

“Yeah, this is a regular Hong Kong harbor...” I was forced to agree with the main pilot. “We’re twelve thousand miles from the surface, but it’s like a traffic jam in Moscow after the workday is over. Navigator, calculate a jump to Taikhirhh-o-Tsykh, the space port on its moon. Close enough so we can get there on main thrusters without using our hyperdrive. Uhh! Taik Rekh, don’t do anything foolish! Paws off the cannon trigger! Don’t worry, the enemies can’t see us,” the last part was directed at our Gunner, who had activated the laser cannon targeting systems and locked on to the nearest Meleyephatian border service corvette.

“Captain, look over there!!!” Ayukh, flustered, pointed a clawed paw at the tactical screen where a large cloud of red markers had just appeared, including a few that were quite large — the game system had marked the ships drifting in that area as hostile. “That’s the...”

“Third Fleet of the Meleyephatian Horde,” I was able to read the popup hint without my subordinate’s help. “The same one that was waging war against the Union of Miyelonian Prides. Now the fleet is here in the Kharsssh-O capital system to resupply in preparation for redeployment to the new war with the Geckho.”

“And there are just so many ships...” Geckho Gunner Taik Rekh also saw the fearsome force that would soon threaten his race.

Yes, it certainly looked impressive. I read the data on the tactical map aloud for everyone:

“Three thousand five hundred starships. Of them four are huge battleships, two Planet Destroyers, no less than twenty-five cruisers of various types and around forty large landing ships. But the majority of the fleet are Tolili-Ukh X modular frigates and various larger assemblages of Tolili modules. When we reach a safe area, Taik Rekh, leave the game into the real world and convey this information to Geckho Headquarters.”

“Captain, transport calculations to Taikhirhh-o-Tsykh complete,” reported Copilot San-Doon Taki-Bu. “The Engineer is saying he has already entered the data and there is enough energy even after the recent long-distance jump. By Relict standards, it’s basically an arm’s reach.”

“Okay then, let’s not outstay our welcome,” I chuckled, masking my pent-up tension with feigned joviality. “We’re going to Trillian space, Taikhirhh-o-Tsykh, to get our frigate repaired and link up with our respawned crew members!”

Chapter Fourteen. An Old Debt

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I WAS STILL feeling shaken by the conversation with the Trillian repair workers. No seriously, what was going on with the prices out here?! Seemingly, I had been taken for an ignorant savage without even a near appreciation of how much it should cost to replace the cargo hold on a Tolili-Ukh X modular frigate and install a new hyperspace drive. Either that or in the minds of the local Trillians, Leng Gnat was thought of as something like the legendary King Croesus, famed for his untold wealth and ability to throw it around willy-nilly. Eleven million Geckho monetary crystals to repair a twinbody frigate?! And that was at the fact the interchangeable modules and most other components had already been purchased by my business partner Uline Tar and delivered here to Taikhirhh-o-Tsykh! Of course, I rejected the flagrant attempt at robbery.

The fee the repair-workers were asking for was so inappropriately jacked up that it simply could not have been a coincidence. Furthermore, I noticed that the senior technician of the group had an Execution glyph patch sewn onto his jumpsuit, which meant he was a member of the Hive of Tintara — an eerie criminal organization which had ensnared half the galaxy in its tenacious tentacles and was famed for its cruelty. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the coming of the Tamara the Paladin to a Trillian space port had drawn the interest of the space mafia, and this was just a relatively delicate attempt at stalling until those who truly had the right to speak in the name of the Hive of Tintara showed up. For some reason they were interested in me, and that meant I should expect guests. However, there was a faster way. I could just go drop into the office of the criminal organization myself. After all, the Hive of Tintara had a tall spiral-shaped building that was simply impossible to miss. And that was exactly what I was preparing to do.

“Stick together! Do not exit the game! I know that you can see the magnificent city glimmering beneath its forcefield from the space port. Yes, Taikhirhh-o-Tsykh II is famed for its opulence, casinos with the best rates in the galaxy, entertainment for any taste, large number of space tourists from every system and absolute guarantee of safety from the royal dynasty of the Trillians. Don’t you worry — you’ll get time to unwind in this tourist haven, take in its beauty and blow some cash. But first we need to have a talk with somebody. I’ll be taking Imran and Gerd Ayni with me. And meanwhile, the rest of the crew is strictly forbidden from going into the city!”

I ordered the Engineer to take the shuttle out for a test flight, then walked around to survey the guard posts. Eduard Boyko and the brothers Vasha and Basha Tushihh were all three in exoskeleton armor with their weapons at the ready monitoring the entrance to our hangar from the outside. Destroying Angel and Grim Reaper were with Svetlana Vereshchagina guarding the frigate entrance. On my order, Taik-Rekh had also deployed the ship’s left cannon and aimed it at the front gates, where he was watching. Perhaps all these preparations seemed excessive for a safe spaceport. But I had been named an official enemy of the all-powerful Meleyephatian Horde, so the precautionary measures made perfect sense to me.

I was left satisfied and was about to get into the shuttle, but then Nefertiti caught up to me. With unexpected respectfulness, the Dryad Jeweler gave a deep bow and extended her open hand containing a silver ring with a huge pearl in the setting:

Precursor Signet. Intelligence +4.

Statistic requirements: Level 100, Intelligence 33.

“Here, captain. As promised. Be smart!” I read in the Dryad’s thoughts, after which the NPC girl turned and ran back up the ship gangway with happy laughter.

I took the refashioned +2 Intelligence ring off my left ring finger and tested out the restored ancient signet. It was a perfect fit, and most importantly it worked! My effective Intelligence was immediately raised to forty, while my maximum Magic Points grew from 2191 to 2307. Splendid! Not wanting to show off such an insanely rare and expensive item unless absolutely necessary, I hid the signet, pulling on the armored glove of my Listener armor over it.

The now unnecessary +2 Intelligence ring I immediately gifted to the Miyelonian Translator standing at my side. The orange kitty Gerd Ayni Uri-Miayuu tried on the gift, admired the way the light played on the facets of its blue stone and, standing on her tiptoes, reached out and gave me an utterly human smooch on the cheek:

“You’re the best captain in whole the Universe!”

I hid my embarrassed smile behind a mask of seriousness:

“Imran and Gerd Ayni, your mission today in town is to accompany me and follow me everywhere. And stay vigilant the whole time, do not take your hands off the handles of your glimmering blades and try to look as intimidating as you can.”

“Are you expecting an attack?” the Dagestani athlete asked in alarm, immediately equipping his armor. But I reassured my friend that I didn’t sense any immediate danger. Still, I could sense an uncanny interest in us. Most likely the Trillians were merely observing and evaluating us to determine how they should treat us and decide just how much they needed to reckon with our interests. And given a high-profile Leng should never walk around without escort, a small company of crew members really couldn’t hurt.

Furthermore, I had to keep in mind the Meleyephatians and their vast Horde of vassals. Sure, here on the moon of the second planet, all visitors to the city of opulence were guaranteed absolute safety. The last time a pickpocket had been caught here was thirty tongs ago. And they were executed. Both in the game and the real world. And no instances of violent robbery or murder had been reported for at the very least five hundred years. But still it would be foolish for me to let my guard down. Especially given that I could be harmed in ways other than physically. They could for example put me in an awkward situation, bringing down my difficult-to-gain Authority. Or they could use psionics (which Meleyephatians were great specialists in) and pit some total stranger tourist against me. And no matter how our fight turned out, some trouble with the Trillian authorities was virtually guaranteed. In short, there were ways to ruin my life even here at on a safe resort moon, so security might come in handy. I was explaining all that to my companions.

“Captain, don’t you think we should maybe take someone a bit more considerable than our Translator, maybe someone from a combat class? For example, the huge imposing Geckho Gunner Taik-Rekh? Or Svetlana the Assassin? She recently complained that she feels unnoticed and isn’t getting used for serious business. Or maybe the pair of German shooters?”

“More considerable? What is that supposed to mean?” the diminutive Miyelonian turned toward the man who had just described her pejoratively, her fur standing on end to make her look twice as large. “Have you already forgotten losing to me in blade sparring at the most recent training session?”

“Stop it! Stop it!” I didn’t allow their argument to boil over. “Imran, Gerd Ayni can translate Trillian, so she is essential. And you are as well. Every player with an interest in my person knows you as my bodyguard, so your presence will not raise any questions. And I see no reason to take more combat-class players to a business negotiation. But to reassure both you and I, we will also be accompanied by both Small Relict Guard Drones. Take your seat at the helm of the shuttle. Let’s go!”

* * *

THE CUSTOMS CHECK, if you could even call it that, was only a scan frame. And our shuttle raced through it without so much as stopping or reducing speed. After that, Imran brought the aircraft right up to the energy dome separating the glimmering densely populated megalopolis from the black vacuum of space. It was actually scary to imagine the potential consequences if the forcefield was switched off by accident. I said that out loud.

“No need to worry about that, Leng Gnat. This here is a multi-layer shield supplied by several independent generators. The Trillians are great experts at building and maintaining such domes, with knowledge amassed over the thousands of years they’ve been exploring the cosmos. Of the currently extant races, they were after all the very first to begin expanding to other systems.”

“Were the Meleyephatians not the first modern race to make it into space?” I asked in surprise because I had heard a completely different story.

“Tricky question that,” the tailed Translator didn’t quibble. “I have heard a few narratives. The Meleyephatians say one thing, the Trillians say something else. The Meleyephatians and Trillians met in the game that bends reality approximately seven hundred tongs ago. By that time, both races were actively exploring outer space. They had both discovered virt-pod technology independently of one another and, along with it, the game that bends reality. There were of course some clashes at first. But the wars between the Trillians and Meleyephatians are in the distant past now. The two races signed a treaty of eternal peace dividing the galaxy into two spheres of influence. And that ancient treaty has been observed by both parties ever since.”

Imran, piloting our shuttle, turned in surprise:

“I can’t believe that! It doesn’t seem to fit the Meleyephatians’ M.O. at all. As far as I’ve heard, they’re an extremely aggressive race, avowing never-ending expansion and bending all galactic neighbors to their will!”

I must admit, I was also somewhat taken aback. But Gerd Ayni saw nothing odd in the fact the Horde’s forebearers were more amenable:

“In the distant past, the Meleyephatians were nowhere near as powerful as they are now. The Trillians meanwhile used to profess a religion based on absolute intolerance to all outsiders. Their sacred tablets proclaim that the galaxy must belong to the Trillians and only the Trillians, while all other races are to be completely exterminated. By the way, that same religion prevails among the Trillians to this day. However,” the Miyelonian chuckled, “there have been some significant philosophical adaptations. The interpreters of their holy texts now say that everything proscribed in those tablets will take place in the infinitely distant future, and the finale should not impede modern Trillians from communicating with members of different races, trading with them and allowing them to visit their star systems as guests. The Trillians do not relish waging war, although they are capable of doing so. And very few want to wage war against them. The Trillians have a massive star fleet and a spy network that spans the whole galaxy. And the ‘calling card’ of their race, if I can put it that way, is to murder all enemy commanders in the real world. The Trillians, for the record, are the only enemies the Union of Miyelonian Prides has a negative battle record against.”

Training skill increased to level eighteen!

I tossed a gaze over the pop-up system message. Yes, my recently taken skill was improving and, along with it, my levelling progress. Although it may not have been as obvious as I might have liked, the +18% experience for all game actions was having a definite impact.

“Let’s land there!” I pointed Imran to a small platform for aircraft and antigravs jutting off a vertical wall of the Hive of Tintara tower. The Gladiator didn’t ask any questions and brought the shuttle in for a daring landing between two luxurious aircraft bearing the Execution rune on their hulls.

Two “crocodiles” on the platform, armored and armed to the teeth, exchanged unconfident glances, clearly not knowing what they were supposed to do with their new unexpected guests. Seemingly, we had landed in the wrong place and this platform was not intended for outsiders. However, my Leng status and the Miyelonian’s rank of Gerd must have dumbfounded the two rank-and-file guardsmen.

Successful Authority check!

The level-77 Sentry honked out something, which Gerd Ayni immediately translated:

“He’s asking whether we have a scheduled meeting.”

“Tell him we do. I have an old debt to the Hive of Tintara, and I want to repay it as quickly as possible. I don’t make a habit of carrying debt.”

The guards again exchanged perplexed glances. They clearly did not like this situation, and the two metal drones cutting circles above them had them both on edge. One of the “crocodiles” honked something into his helmet microphone, obviously consulting with someone more senior. The answer kept us waiting. It was around three minutes before a voice rang out from the intercom next to the doors in flawless Miyelonian:

“Leng Gnat, your wish to pay a debt of honor inspires sincere respect. You and the individuals accompanying you may enter the building. You will be escorted to the meeting location at once.”

Chapter Fifteen. A Mission of Epic Difficulty

––––––––

WE FOLLOWED a small Trillian through the corridors of the huge building, and she did not have the usual text indicating name, class and level over her head. In fact, I fairly quickly realized such clear indicators of identity were a rarity in the Hive of Tintara building.

Hard to say what I was expecting in the skyscraper of an organization with such a sinister reputation, but the reality left me somewhat disappointed. Hallways, flying courier drones, an endless string of offices, some kind of data center with a large number of terminals worked by Trillian specialists. Sure, it was rich. Ornate even. The pleasant aroma of some kind of perfume lingered in the air, but still... it was all too ordinary or something. No thuggish cutthroats haunting your every step, no torture chambers for straightening out unpaid debts, not even portraits of gang leaders wearing gold chains around powerful armored necks. This seemed more like the office of some average corporation rather than that of a villainous space mafia.

Our small procession didn’t attract any interest from the employees, even though we were the only non-Trillians in the place. None of the office workers so much as turned to look in our direction or showed us a clawed finger. We simply went unnoticed. All the employees were just wrapped up in their work.

Fame increased to 95.

Uhh... I may have gotten ahead of myself. So, they were noticing us after all, though nobody was showing it. And meanwhile, our escort stopped abruptly in front of one of the many unremarkable doors and rasped something out.

“Leng Gnat and his companions are requested to enter,” Gerd Ayni translated and, switching from Geckho to Russian, added, “by the way, captain, we were being escorted by a Trillian female. A young, unmarried one at that. And by local standards, she’s very pretty. That’s a good sign — it means the Trillians consider you a highly esteemed guest. And traditionally the girl needs to be thanked. Just give her a little token of your appreciation. A small souvenir or a handful of change.”

I didn’t have any souvenirs or handfuls of change on me and, to my great shame, I had yet to so much as see Trillian money in person, so I went digging in my inventory and found a few Geckho monetary crystals. As bad luck would have it, they were all high denomination. The smallest one I had was worth five hundred. But I didn’t have much choice. If it was supposed to be a handful, I was gonna give a handful. I sprinkled the small handful of red faceted stones into the hand of the armored beauty, who had raised the upper half of her body. The Trillian female responded with silence, not showing in any way that she appreciated the highly generous gift. Seemingly, she didn’t even know what Geckho crystals were. Too bad. I could have found a better use for all that cash.

Following the rest of my companions, I entered the office. The Small Relict Guard Drones nimbly slipped in just before the door closed. Okay. The furnishings in this room, immersed in dim light, were more like what I was expecting to see in the Hive of Tintara’s lair. The corners were adorned with tall marble statues of mighty Trillian warriors holding clubs and bludgeons in their hands. The walls held a rich collection of cudgels, brass knuckles and other assorted bashing weapons. Bladed weaponry was clearly not in favor here, which was no surprise given the Trillians’ bodies were covered in impenetrable sheets of bone.

I saw empty bronze armor suits made for six-legged creatures of truly gigantic proportions. On the far wall there was a huge portrait of some eminent Trillian holding a brightly glowing ball over his head with his upper pair of limbs. Next to the portrait was a small altar with a brazier smoking with some kind of incense.

In the very center of the room, on a heap of pillows lounged a huge and corpulent Trillian. He was lying belly up, his two lowermost pairs of legs crossed on his torso, while the upper pair held a three-quart glass full of gurgling and bubbling liquid with a long transparent straw. Furthermore, the Trillian was wearing no clothing, but he didn’t seem the least bit embarrassed. I had never before seen such a large Trillian. He was twenty feet long at least, while his mass... I sized up his voluminous gut and the thick bone growths on his back... must have been a ton and a half or even two. The bronze armor suits against the wall, which I first thought were colossal, were actually just the right length for the office occupant. But at the waist, if the six-legged crocodile’s massive paunch could even be called that, he clearly would not have fit.

Interestingly, I could actually read his character info, too:

Gerd Mokh Uzsssh. Trillian. Green Trillian subrace. Level-188 Analyst.

Green? If my eyes did not deceive me, the hide of this huge space “crocodile” was of a saturated pink hue, with the exception of his light-yellow belly. Next to this giant, humans seemed tiny and pitiful. A ghastly thought occurred to me that I would be a perfect fit for the monster’s toothy maw, and he would have had no problem swallowing me up whole. But what the hell was I thinking? I shuddered sharply and chased off the ghoulish fantasies. Trillians were not particularly aggressive creatures and had never been known to eat humans.

Mental Fortitude skill increased to level one hundred fifteen!

Seemingly, a drug of some kind was mixed into the incense in the brazier, designed to loosen visitors’ self-control and tongues. I thought about it and, despite the risk of offending the Trillian, lowered my helmet’s faceplate and turned on the air filtration system. Imran and Ayni followed my lead. Gerd Mokh wasn’t the least bit offended and seemingly gave a kindhearted grin. Without getting up off his cushion, the Analyst started off speaking in good clean Geckho:

“Leng Gnat, I’m delighted to greet such an illustrious Free Captain in my modest office! And you have Imran with you — a powerful human warrior whose outstanding achievements earned him a commemorative armor suit from Kung Waid Shishish himself. I’ve heard all about you. And you’ve brought along...” the Trillian spent a long time staring at Gerd Ayni, then turned his toothed snout my way, “admit it, is this the same entity who killed the Great Priestess of the Miyelonian race? Or is this the real Miyelonian?”

“I’d have had the decency not to drag a Morphian to a system where they are not allowed by law,” I answered, trying not to demonstrate how surprised I was by the Analyst’s awareness of the state of affairs in my crew.

“That was the right move!” Gerd Mokh Uzsssh agreed. “After the mayhem the Morphians caused on An-Urosssh III they are not welcome in Trillian space.”

I knew nothing of the events on An-Urosssh III, although my acquaintance Fox had told me the Morphian race had been sentenced to extermination not only by the Meleyephatians, but the Trillians as well. And after my close discussions with Vaa and Fox, I could easily allow that the Trillians might have had a good reason to do so. Meanwhile, the huge Analyst started speaking in an apologetic tone:

“Unfortunately, I know nothing of the etiquette norms and traditions that prevail among your branch of the human race, Leng Gnat. Do I need to feed important guests before we talk? Are any preliminary ceremonies necessary? Must we be on our feet? If so, I have to inform you that I have long been unable to stand on my hind legs due to my weight. But, Free Captain, you must admit that you yourself know nothing of Trillian traditions. Isn’t that right? And you purchased the Trillian girl by accident, out of ignorance?”

I had bought a Trillian girl??? When? And who? Ayni the Miyelonian answered my unasked questions:

“The money my captain gifted to the young girl that escorted us here was significantly more than common courtesy would dictate. And by all appearances, it was even higher than the dower the incubator that hatched her egg appointed.”

“Exactly right, wise Gerd Ayni,” the Trillian analyst agreed. “Now, by all legal standards the Trillian girl belongs to you, Leng Gnat! Good choice, I approve. I considered taking that female for myself, but the price stung just a bit too much. Her genetic line is pure, her body proportions ideal, her loyalty to her master absolute, and her compliance with standards of conduct is flawless. Her statistics are spread evenly with a slight slant toward Agility. She has undergone full preparation courses to be a servant and melee fighter. Her game class is double: Chef-Assassin, level sixty-seven. And with no name, you can even decide what to call her.”

It took some effort to pick my jaw up off the ground. Holy crap! So that was how I accidentally bought myself a crocodile, a lady croc even. And she was pretty by her race’s standards, and able to cook and kill with the best of them. But what was I to do with her now? And by the way, double game class? How was that possible on a technical level? I considered it and remembered that I had once seen a player like that before. San-Sanych, the “bus driver” for my original faction had the double game class of Mechanic-Driver but, back then, I thought it was just one profession.

“I strongly suggest you not refuse her, my captain,” Gerd Ayni, switching to Russian, cautioned me against yet another rash action. “Rejecting a female you have just purchased will cause a serious loss of Authority, but that isn’t even the worst part. If a player is rejected right after purchase, the incubator that raised them suffers a severe drop in prestige and will lose clients because of it. And the owners of the incubator will be entitled to sue the purchaser to compensate their losses, both financial and reputational.”

The Analyst waited patiently for us to say our fill. Meanwhile he drained the three-quart glass in one gulp and set it under an apparatus that immediately began refilling the vessel with alcohol. Then he touched his stomach with the long transparent straw, and I saw an electric shock jump out. One of the Small Relict Guard Drones circling the room was intrigued and flew up closer, hovering just a yard away from Gerd Mokh Uzsssh.

“How delightful!” the huge Trillian wanted to extend a clawed hand toward the drone but froze midway and turned his huge toothy head my direction. “Leng Gnat, may I take a closer look at your drone?”

I set the drone to passive mode and temporarily marked the Analyst as an ally, forbidding it from attacking him. The Drone obediently landed on the Trillian’s outstretched open palm. Gerd Mokh Uzsssh looked my drone over then smirked, revealing a toothy maw and said pensively:

“I have been made aware that, several days ago in the H9045/WE star system, the Meleyephatians discovered the wreckage of a Relict drone. I suspect that, even though we are now very far from that system, that event is directly connected with your now having a second ancient drone. And I suppose there would also be no use asking just how you were able to reach Taikhirhh-o-Tsykh on a starship with no hyperspace drive.”

“What makes you say that?” Then came my turn to give a knowing smile. “No one said you couldn’t ask. In fact, I might as well tell you — I was towed here by a mobile laboratory of the ancient Relict race. I parted ways with it here in the Taikhirhh-o-Tsykh system. But it would in fact be no use to ask where the laboratory is currently located. First and foremost because I myself do not know.”

“And yet there can be no doubt that you have some way of communicating with the Relicts...” the Trillian fell into a long silent pause. For my Analyst, that usually meant he was making some intricate calculation. At the very least that was what it meant for my Jarg. A while later, Gerd Mokh Uzsssh shuddered:

“Okay, Free Captain Leng Gnat. I have reviewed your obligations to the Hive of Tintara. And I can offer you your choice of three assignments to repay them. One is fairly easy. It will merely disengage you, free you of your debt to our organization. The second is harder and, if you take it, you stand to come out a bit ahead. And finally, the third...”

The Trillian picked up the glass, already filled to the brim, and again drained the container of alcohol in a single gulp. He focused his independently spinning eyes on me and continued:

“I would classify the third as a mission of epic difficulty. And if, Free Captain Leng Gnat, you in fact no longer have a way of communicating with the mobile Relict laboratory, completing this assignment will be entirely impossible. But the reward, if you can complete it, would be a true king’s ransom. And I am not exaggerating in the slightest nor employing any flash or hyperbole. As a matter of fact, this assignment comes straight from the Par-Poreh royal family,” the Trillian pointed his transparent stick at the huge portrait of a Trillian holding a glowing ball aloft. “Furthermore, if you succeed, you will become a friend of the Hive of Tintara and always be welcome in any of our establishments. You will also then be entitled to wear our emblem on your armor and emblazon it on your starship. So then, what is your decision, Leng Gnat?”

I pondered nervously. Disengage as quickly as possible from this space mafia and forget our dealings like a bad dream? Or take on a more difficult mission and earn some cash? After all, I needed finances badly. Or... it was actually scary to consider the “mission of epic difficulty.” It would probably be like the mission to kill the Great Priestess of the Miyelonian race, which brought with it a cascade of consequences leading all the way to the great space war.

“Could you perhaps tell me what the assignments are so I could know what I’m agreeing to?”

But the huge Trillian shook his head:

“No. I sympathize, Leng Gnat, but those are the rules. The only ones who may know the interests of the Hive of Tintara are those to whom those interests directly pertain. All I can say is that if you choose the third assignment, we will help you fill the vacant Gunner position on your frigate. And we will turn down the request of an influential entrepreneur, who you inadvertently aggrieved when you hijacked his platinum mine.”

Well, well! So, the owner of the extraction plant on the asteroid in the Solar System finally rears his ugly head. And he ran to the Hive of Tintara to complain about me. But as for the vacant Gunner seat... what was the Analyst even talking about? Tamara the Paladin already had two excellent Gunners, and that was basically all I needed. I told Gerd Mokh Uzsssh just that.

“That is so, Leng Gnat. But rumors have been swirling that the Geckho will soon be summoning their vassals to join the war with the Meleyephatian Horde. And that you, my Human guest, will be leading one of the vassal armies. And a Meleyephatian, even one from a nest of renegades who is infinitely grateful to his captain for the rejuvenation, would never be willing to go to war against his own kind.”

Damn! That was actually a good point. How hadn’t that occurred to me yet? After all, the line of reasoning could not have been easier to follow. And it meant the Meleyephatian Gunner Gerd Eeeezzz 777 would very soon be leaving my crew. In that case, I would in fact require a replacement. But what need did I have for some so and so appointed by the Hive of Tintara? With such a big long waitlist clamoring to serve in my crew, I could fill the Gunner vacancy myself no problem.

“We will not be providing you some mere ‘so and so,’“ the Analyst seemed somewhat offended when I told him my thoughts. “Gerd Ukh-Meemeesh, a Trillian by race, is the best Gunner in Kung Waid Shishish’s entire Third Strike Fleet. A true star, one of a kind. His impeccable shooting can even change the outcome of a fight that is shaping up catastrophically. It isn’t every tong someone of his caliber his born. Anyhow, Gerd Ukh-Meemeesh has recently lost his job due to a conflict in his crew. My compatriot was accused of spying for the Trillians. And especially vexing is the fact that the accusations were entirely contrived. And I should know. Then again, as a powerful psionic, it would be quite easy for Leng Gnat to read the Gunner’s mind and put my assertion to the test.”

I could have the best shot in the whole fleet join my crew? Really damn enticing! I took a deep breath and asked the most important question:

“Could I at least know exactly how much the ‘king’s ransom’ I would get for the mission of epic difficulty might be? Or is that also a secret and I’ll only know the size of the reward after delivering your enemy’s head on a silver platter?”

The huge Analyst stared at me for some time, then responded, having accurately guessed what I was going to spend the reward on:

“The reward will be enough to purchase four shield generators for your home planet, Leng Gnat. Also, after rendering such a service to the Par-Poreh royal family, it is very hard for me to imagine a scenario in which the Trillians would attempt to lay claim to planet Earth after your tong of safety expires.”

There it was. He’d hooked me. Four shield generators of the remaining nine. Safety for my home planet was worth risking and even ruining my reputation by signing onto an insane and probably illegal venture. I breathed a heavy sigh and made up my mind:

“I choose the mission of epic difficulty!”

Authority increased to 98!

Fame increased to 96.

The huge Analyst closed his eyes and gave a distinct nod. That must have been how Trillians express approval:

“I know you are famed for your boldness and reckless abandon, so I had no doubt you would make that very choice. So then, on to the mission. In the Rorsh star system, which is controlled by the Meleyephatians, there is a prison for particularly dangerous criminals. Very little is known about this prison for certain. Even Trillian intelligence, which is nearly omniscient in other areas, crashed and burned in fruitless attempts to find out anything about this especially well-guarded facility. So then, in this gloomy institution, a member of my race’s ruling dynasty is serving a life sentence: Prince Gerd Hugo...”

Gerd Ayni Uri-Miayuu the Miyelonian shuddered in fear at the Analyst’s last words, leaving me no doubts that she had heard of the Trillian royal Prince before and feared him. I must admit, the idea of breaking such a famed figure out of prison put me on guard.

“Your mission, Leng Gnat, is to extract the Prince from prison by any means necessary and deliver him to a system where Gerd Hugo can safely set his respawn point. And that is the extent of it. The Hive of Tintara will evacuate the Prince to Trillian space from there. Now a few important conditions. You are forbidden from telling anyone about your mission until its completion under pain of death. And afterward,” the Trillian opened his mouth slightly, demonstrating a set of fearsome teeth, “I imagine you will not exactly be eager to tell anyone you had a hand in this highly public affair. Finally, you have one hundred days to complete the mission. After that, and don’t take this the wrong way, the mission will be passed to someone else, while all three of you will be executed both in the game and real life.”

Chapter Sixteen. The Embodiment of Absolute Evil

––––––––

THE WHOLE WALK back through the corridors of the huge building to the aircraft pad we were silent. Our less than upbeat mood was not lifted even when Gerd Mokh Uzsssh the Analyst said the Trillians would repair the Tolili-Ukh X twinbody for free and as quickly as could be arranged. In comparison with the fact that our one-hundred-day countdown was already ticking away, and the threat of real death now hung over our heads, saving a few hundred thousand or even million crystals seemed downright miniscule.

Our group was politely requested to wait next to the shuttle while the Trillian girl I inadvertently purchased packed up her person effects. We were promised it wouldn’t take too long. Okay, sure. We could wait. Imran studied the lavish antigravs of the mafia bosses next to ours and clicked his tongue in delight, promising that one day he would buy himself one just like them. I meanwhile asked the experienced Translator:

“Ayni, so just who is this Prince Hugo Par-Poreh?”

When I saw unhidden fear on the Miyelonian’s whiskered snout, I hurried to add:

“Don’t worry, I already checked with Scanning. You can speak openly — there are no microphones or hidden cameras here at the landing pad.”

But the orange Miyelonian nevertheless pressed her ears against her head in fear and categorically refused to answer my question. Obviously, it wasn’t microphones she was afraid of, but the subject itself. A very strange reaction, which made me all the more certain there was something amiss with the prisoner we had to free. Okay, I’m not a child. I can find the information all by myself in the search system.

Just then, the Trillian girl appeared on the landing pad, walking on her hind legs, supporting herself with her tail and holding the front half of her body upright. But in the building, like all Trillians, she had been using all six feet to get around. While my new acquaintance was still out of earshot, I asked Gerd Ayni to explain these varied styles of walking.

“But Captain, you’ve seen it yourself. Trillians can walk both vertically and horizontally. The latter is much faster. But when in the company of upright walking Geckho and Miyelonians, Trillians can use just their lower limbs. To be honest, I don’t really know why they do it. Maybe we should ask this Trillian?”

Our new companion’s detailed response, which the Miyelonian relayed to me, turned out to be unimaginably simple:

“For Trillians, it is very important to maintain eye contact during conversations. It provides us with information that cannot be gleaned from words alone — the speaker’s mood and emotions, reactions, hidden intentions and many other things. Without eye contact, you can’t properly communicate, and that makes Trillians feel uncomfortable. And so, when interacting with taller Humans, Cleopians or Meleyephatians, Trillians always stand on their hind legs. With Miyelonians, we can go either way.”

Astrolinguistics skill increased to level one hundred three!

I had no idea why that skill improved just then. I hadn’t yet caught a single familiar word in the Trillian language. I couldn’t even tell where her sentences started or ended. To my eye, the Chef-Assassin had just hiss-honk-clicked out a fairly long statement as if in a single breath. Still, I didn’t hear any sounds the human throat would be totally uncapable of producing (unlike, for example, the language of the Meleyephatians which was chalk full of them). And that was a good thing — it meant that, with time, I would actually be able to speak Trillian.

After a brief pause, our new still nameless companion started chirping again. Gerd Ayni translated:

“Captain, the Trillian girl is saying that she has on her person some items which are necessary for her profession but may qualify as weapons. If her master has any objections, she will immediately get rid of the dangerous objects.”

“Have her show me!” I demanded through the Translator.

The weaponry turned out to be a set of tiny metal knives that could not be detected by metal detectors and a vial of fast-acting contact poison to lace them with. The girl Assassin demonstrated her throwing weapons to me. She could attach them to the underside of the claws of her two uppermost pairs of feet and, when the time was right, launch them at nearby enemies with a sharp flick of the wrist. Gerd Ayni translated the Chef-Assassin saying she could reliably kill at least six targets her master deemed objectionable. And if she got lucky with positioning, the number of bodies could go up as high as eight. Not bad, not bad! I considered it a useful ability and allowed my companion to bring her unusual weaponry onboard.

“Okay, let’s go! Imran, take the yoke!”

I pointed the Chef-Assassin to the empty fourth seat in our shuttle, and she obediently took it, wrapping her tail around her body to get seated more comfortably. Modest and bewildered, she was squeezing a small bag of personal items to her chest with her four uppermost limbs.

While underway, just in case, I checked the bag and the Chef-Assassin’s other items with Scanning (I didn’t know what to expect out of the space mafia, which had shown me its teeth on more than one occasion), but there was nothing suspicious or especially objectionable in her bag, clothing or even inside her body. A few changes of clothing and footwear. Several briquettes of dehydrated fiber of both plant and animal origin. Just seasonings and spices, nothing illegal. A brand-new wallet that had never even been turned on and still in its packaging, clearly with zero account balance. Given that, the money I gifted her must have gone straight to her incubator for the purchase. I’d have to issue my companion some cash so she could buy essentials.

The one thing that drew my attention was a dark plastic little ring on one of her fingers:

Null Ring.

Blocks extraction of character information.

So this was how the Trillians were hiding their names and classes in the Hive of Tintara building! All this time I thought it was some special skill.

“Hey, our pals are here!” Imran, piloting the shuttle, tore me from my pensive state, pointing at a group of players leaving the spaceport building and heading toward Tamara the Paladin.

A plump Geckho, a somewhat smaller Geckho next to him, a large Meleyephatian, several humans in combat armor. Yeah, that was definitely my crew! If anything threw me off, it was the two large combat robots marching behind them. Had my business partner Uline Tar bought new Immolators to replace the ones that got destroyed? The robots looked somewhat similar but still different.

“Land right next to them!” I ordered the Gladiator, and our shuttle made a steep bank and abruptly descended. The drop was so precipitous, in fact, that my ears popped.

ATTENTION!!! For violating vehicle piloting rules inside a high-risk area, you have been issued a fine of one hundred fifty crystals. Air corridor boundary violation.

ATTENTION!!! For violating vehicle piloting rules inside a high-risk area, you have been issued a fine of two hundred fifty crystals. Illicit dangerous maneuver.

ATTENTION!!! For violating vehicle piloting rules inside a high-risk area, you have been issued a fine of five hundred crystals. Landing not permitted in this location.

ATTENTION!!! The pilot of this shuttle must present himself at the spaceport transit monitoring department.

The large number of messages dazzled me. Imran, by all appearances, had received them as well because he looked at me in fear.

“I’ll pay the fines,” I promised the Dagestani. “And you should make sure to carefully read through shuttle piloting rules for high-risk areas before you pay the local dispatchers a visit. Ask Ayni to translate. In fact, just have her go with you. You can pin it all on me — say it was captain’s orders. I’m sure they won’t be sticklers and will let you go quickly. Okay, let’s go. Our friends are already running this way.”

They were just as happy to see us as we were to see them. I even had to activate my armor’s forcefield so Gerd Uline Tar wouldn’t crush me in her warm embrace and outpouring of emotion. Of course, questions rained down on me. I told them we were coming back from a business trip in the city connected with getting the frigate repaired, and I wasn’t especially bending the truth either. I told them about the newest member of our crew, the Trillian girl and asked her to be immediately enlisted as our cook.

“So, what are those?” I finally reached a pause in the questions raining down from my first mate and pointed at the unmoving robots.

“Those...” I could read obvious pride on the impossibly satisfied snout of the Geckho woman, “are replacements for your lost Immolators. Brand spankin’ new heavy combat robots of Geckho production, Undeh-Marva Vs (‘Incomparable 5’ in translation from Geckho). These ones have just started to hit the military. I was barely able to get my hands on them. There are none on the open market. I had to use my fiancé Kosta Dykhsh’s army connections.”

The Trader walked up closer to the nearest of the enormous robots, which were distantly reminiscent of giant plucked birds with their wings splayed and leaning forward. With obvious pride, she showed off their thick composite armor with billions of layers of different materials, including some that absorb impact and vibrations, some resistant to high temperatures and even some that were resistant to laser fire. She pointed out their heavy plasma cannons, told me about the huge capacity of their energy shields, and heaped praise on the stabilizing system, which allowed them to fire with pin-point accuracy while shaking, heavily encumbered or executing violent maneuvers.

“This is the very best assault robot for boarding other spacecraft, and one of the most effective on the surfaces of small planets and low-mass heavenly bodies. But wait, captain, there’s more!” Uline pressed a button and the robot opened up to reveal a pilot’s cabin. “Undeh-Marva Vs can fight autonomously, but their main purpose is actually as exoskeleton armor for a Geckho fighters! They’re the best of the best — reliable, easy-to-use killing machines! They can only be commanded by players of the Heavy Robot Operator class, though.”

“Just like the brothers Basha and Vasha Tushihh,” I immediately surmised. And my business partner nodded:

“Yes! That’s who I bought these for. Using the money you promised me for selling the alien ship component for more than one hundred fifty million crystals. That’s right, captain! I sold the new hyperspace drive for one hundred sixty-three million!”

* * *

OVER THE COURSE OF that conversation, we made it back to the ship. The sight of the battle-scarred starship made a strong impression on my resurrected crew. Supercargo Avan Toi gasped and shook his furry head as he examined the cargo hold, which had already been cut away by the repair brigade and was lying next to the ship all twisted and crumpled like an accordion:

“I was inside there when it exploded! How awful!”

I had a brief chat with the returned crew to bring them up to speed, then gave essential instructions to the repair workers, designated a few players to stay behind for security purposes and gave the rest of the crew leave of absence to go visit the glimmering and alluring city of opulence. Right after that, I asked my Meleyephatian Gunner to come see me in my captain’s berth. In the short time I’d known him, Gerd Eeeezzz 777 had proven himself a capable, loyal and trustworthy crewmember so, to my eye, he deserved absolute honesty.

I told him I’d been summoned to join the Geckho army, and that I had no way to refuse the mighty leader of my suzerains Krong Daveyesh-Pir. I figured the Geckho would almost certainly be sending their human vassals into this war with the Meleyephatian Horde, and I didn’t wish to put the Gunner in a situation where he would have to shoot members of his own race. And so I suggested we terminate our contract, offering to pay out the remainder and write a letter of recommendation for his next employer. After all, Eeeezzz 777 was always a truly professional and trustworthy mercenary, while his skills and moral caliber left me beyond satisfied.

Authority increased to 99!

“I completely understand, my captain,” the huge arachnid Meleyephatian bowed respectfully. “No need to pay out the remainder, as I have gotten much more out of serving under you than I truly earned with my work. I have my youth back and I got new unique experience, adventures and a renewed interest in life. As a matter of fact, I actually consider myself obliged to you and, if there is any way I can help you Leng Gnat, please tell me.”

I considered it, then asked him to do me one little favor. The thing was that I had made queries in several search systems about Prince Gerd Hugo Par-Poreh but hadn’t found anything that could have explained why Ayni the Miyelonian was so terribly scared. The Prince was on the older side, a member of the ruling Par-Poreh royal dynasty. A famous and quite respected theologian, an authoritative interpreter of ancient texts, the author of several monographs on religion and philosophy, a brilliant politician and even the leader of some Trillian political party. Based on the biography I read, he was a clever and colorful leader with many supporters among the Trillians. Although he was part of the opposition to the King, his opposition was fairly measured. I had no idea what could have landed the Prince a life sentence from the Meleyephatians, nor what had spooked my Translator so severely. But I was also aware that, here in Trillian space, information about Gerd Hugo could have been subject to stringent censorship, and so I needed to know the viewpoint of this member of a different race.

But how could I pose the question without accidentally revealing why I needed to know and thus fail the mission of epic difficulty? I decided to come at it the long way:

“Gerd Eeeezzz 777, I wanted to get your personal opinion on Gerd Ayni...”

Before I could even finish the huge arachnid Meleyephatian gave a loud chirr, which was clearly meant to parody human laughter:

“Leng Gnat, allow me to be direct. Everyone in the galaxy knows that the Miyelonian is endlessly grateful to you, up to her ears in love and would give her fluffy tail for you without the slightest hesitation.”

“That wasn’t exactly what I was after,” I said with slight embarrassment because that came as quite the surprise, “but nevertheless thank you for your openness. Still, I was interested in something else. The thing is, today the Miyelonian reacted in a way that caught me off guard. While speaking with some local Trillians, the subject of the royal dynasty and Prince Hugo came up, and I saw a look of pure horror on her snout! In fact, Ayni just about perished in fear! I went looking to see what might have scared her so badly, but I couldn’t find anything.”

“No surprise, captain. You would never find the truth in Trillian space. Disseminating negative information about the royal dynasty is strictly prohibited here. Violators are subject to death and in the real world at that. But just so you know, in the rest of the galaxy, Prince Hugo is synonymous with absolute evil. The very embodiment of the most vile, ghoulish and blood-thirsty villain in existence. Some believe that the mere mention of his name attracts misfortune and death. I am not quite so superstitious, captain, but I also have some personal history with the prince, so let me tell you everything I know.”

The Gunner opened a satchel on his side and dug around for a bit. Finally, he pulled out and showed me a small melted piece of dark plastic:

“This is all that remains of my home. My subterranean city of renegades was torched along with all its residents. And it was done in the game and real world at the same time. I am the sole remaining survivor from the whole of renegade nest fifty-six. And that is only because I was in space at the time of the attack.”

“And Prince Hugo was behind it?” I asked in horror, staring wide-eyed at the melted piece of debris I guessed might have come from some plastic furniture.

“Perhaps not the Prince himself, but certainly fanatic devotees of his. Although Gerd Hugo is famed as a sadist and maniac, who loves to watch his victims be tortured. They say it’s how he draws strength and inspiration to commit ever more heinous atrocities. And so, I suspect he was somewhere in the area during the blaze.”

Yeesh... I looked on in silence as Gerd Eeeezzz 777 pressed the piece of plastic to his forehead while silently whispering either a prayer or a curse. Finally, the Meleyephatian put the memento of his fallen homeworld back in his inventory and continued:

“You may not know, captain, but the Trillians used to espouse absolute intolerance to all other species. Genocide was their main religion. The Trillians crept through the galaxy, mercilessly exterminating every living being that stood in their way. But one day, they came across my race and snagged their teeth. Try as they might, they just couldn’t best the Horde. They didn’t have the strength to wage war forever, but their religion prevented them from turning tail or backing down. Until one day the Trillians disengaged from that contradiction and started to interpret their ancient dogmas in a new way, more euphemistically and mildly. They had no further reason to keep up the war with the Horde. An eternal peace was signed. And now the Trillians are more tranquil.”

“Yes, I have heard their history. But what does Prince Hugo have to do with it?”

“Prince Hugo Par-Poreh just so happens not to agree with the new interpretations of the ancient tablets and wishes to return to the era of never-ending war against all alien races. On his homeworld, he is considered a crank and not taken seriously. His political party is small and has no influence on the politics of the Trillian race as a whole. But the minor support he does have, coupled with his close relationship to the King was enough for him to sow lawlessness nevertheless. That monster used his power and money to actively promote his ideas and assemble an army of fanatics. The Prince ferociously despises every creature that is not Trillian by race and would eagerly kill any such alien as cruelly and sadistically as possible. And he kills them in the real world, too. For the last three tongs, Prince Hugo has been behind the majority of the most horrendous acts of terror committed throughout the galaxy, and not only has he not hidden that, he has made a show of publicly claiming responsibility. Sick bastard...”

I kept silent, shaken by what I’d heard. And I had signed up to break that bloodthirsty son of a bitch out of prison?! Had I known, I never would have agreed! Meanwhile, Gerd Eeeezzz 777 continued:

“Once, on a Cleopian station, the Prince’s maniacal desire to personally watch mass executions got the better of him. Just before the civilian staff was gunned down, Gerd Hugo was captured by agents of the Meleyephatians, Cleopians and Miyelonians. Yes, it was a rare instance of several galactic states working together — age-old rivals joined forces to take down the embodiment of absolute evil. What became of the Prince thereafter, I do not know. I hope he was executed. Though I have my doubts — Gerd Hugo is a member of the Trillian royal dynasty after all and executing a relative of the King would be an indisputable casus belli. I have also heard that supporters of that bloodthirsty maniac believe the ‘true king of the Trillians will one day return.’ That may be so. When many millions of players believe ardently in something, the virtual reality all around us takes that into account and even the most irrational fantasies and fears can be brought to life. And after that, the same changes take place in the real world as well. And now, captain, you’ll have to excuse me. This conversation is making me very tense. It’s very unpleasant and painful to me personally, and I’d rather stop talking about it.”

It was unusual to hear such primitive superstitions in a high-tech world, especially from such a seasoned Meleyephatian mercenary, who had truly been to hell and back. But I sensed a distinct sorrow emanating from the hardened veteran. And with it there was grief and... weak-kneed primordial fear. I very cautiously reached out to his thoughts to make certain Eeeezzz 777 sincerely believed the cruel Prince could one day be reborn, even if he had been executed in the real world.

Surprising. Although perhaps there really were good reasons for his behavior and fear. I recalled a recent conversation with Human-3 Faction Diplomat Ivan Lozovsky, in which he suggested that the ghastliest monsters in the game that bends reality may have actually been materializations of players’ fears.

I didn’t insist he keep talking and bid Eeeezzz 777 farewell, wishing the Meleyephatian mercenary luck and paying him a fifty-thousand credit bonus. I even issued him an official writ of gratitude, which potential employers could see in the Gunner’s personal file. Right after I led the Meleyephatian to the gangway and was preparing to return to my cabin, I met the Trillian girl in the corridor carrying the dead Jarg in her arms with a look of satisfaction on her snout!

The Chef-Assassin was ardently twittering and showing off her trophy with clear pride. Given my only crewmember capable of understanding Trillian was off helping Imran get told off for violating spaceport flight regulations, I had to fall back on Psionics:

“Here! Captain, I have killed a dangerous parasite! It snuck onto the starship unnoticed. Jargs are dangerous because they can explode, killing everything around with shrapnel and poison gas. But I managed to shoot him before he caused any trouble!”

It took a good bit of effort, but I eventually spotted two tiny throwing knives almost entirely embedded in my Analyst’s snout.

“Great job, of course. But did it not give you pause that this Jarg is from the very same Relict Faction as your captain? You could have seen it over his head. It’s also written there on his chest plates. Or what about the Jarg having a green, ally marker on your mini-map? Just so you know for the future, this is our Analyst, and he is a very sensible one at that. As a matter of fact, his cabin is the one next to yours.”

“Whoops!” She threw her trophy down in shame and covered her snout with all four upper limbs at once. “I was scared and must have gotten ahead of myself trying to eliminate the threat, so I didn’t notice. My first day working for an important master and already such an embarrassing mistake...”

Our conversation ended there, because my First Mate Gerd Uline Tar ran into the corridor looking startled:

“Leng Gnat, we’re in trouble! I just got word from city law enforcement. Three crewmembers of Tamara the Paladin — Tini, Svetlana Vereshchagina and Destroying Angel were detained while attempting to rob a casino!”

Chapter Seventeen. Big Interview

––––––––

HOLY CRAP! I was still frozen with my mouth agape in surprise. I didn’t know exactly what hijinks my subordinates had gotten up to in the casino, but the charge sounded extremely serious. The ladies and Miyelonian adolescent had screwed up big time. I needed to bail them out quickly before the trio met the same tragic fate as the last pickpocket of Taikhirhh-o-Tsykh.

Authority reduced to 98!

Oh, they must have been turning up the pressure on my subordinates and beating information out of them, given their captain’s name had just surfaced in a negative light. I needed to hurry.

“Uline, you’re coming with me! And we’re taking Ayni, too... Damn! She isn’t here now. This is gonna be pretty hard without a Translator...”

Then my gaze stopped on our new six-legged girl, still ashamed and covering her face with her paws:

“You’re coming with us into town! Three members of my crew have been detained by city police. I don’t know Trillian. But I also can’t mentally converse directly with your law enforcement, because then they might accuse me of using psionics against them. So, you’ll be speaking in my name!”

“Yes, master. Shall I ready my weapons?”

The question sounded deadly serious. I had no doubt the Trillian girl would attack whatever target I told her to with no hesitation even if it could lead to her real death. A-hem... That kind of loyalty, outside the bounds of all rational thought, made my skin crawl. In an effort to avoid excesses, I ordered her to leave all her knives on the ship.

Fortunately, Imran and Gerd Ayni left the antigrav shuttle here in the hangar, so we had no issue with transportation. But the presentiments I was feeling about talking with the local law enforcement were nasty as could be. I suspected they wouldn’t even listen to my explanations and justifications. But still I had to go — what kind of captain would I be if I didn’t dash off to rescue my crew when they landed themselves in hot water?!

With a heavy heart, I took the pilot’s seat in the aircraft and got ready to take off. But then I noticed Scanning reload, just automatically ran a scan and saw something that made my lips stretch out into a satisfied smile. A player I had been impatiently awaiting for nearly three days was back: Relict Technician Urgeh Pu-Pu Urgeh! What a great time this member of the ancient considered-extinct race had chosen to enter the game. I suspected his coming to the city would cause an uproar! Then they couldn’t just bat me off like some irksome little fly!

I mentally greeted the ancient Technician then asked him to leave the ship and take a seat in the shuttle. I warned the Chef-Assassin after her recent violent reaction that the being appearing soon on the shuttle’s gangway was not another “parasite” but a friendly player and, as far as I could tell by the mini-map, had even joined my faction.

Urgeh Pu-Pu Urgeh took a seat in the back row to the left of the Trillian with serene dignity, as if he found himself in the unfamiliar city of a previously unknown race every day. I made several attempts to interrogate the Relict, but he just kept saying he’d tell me later because there was “lots of information that still needed to be made sense of.” Okay then, later means later. I lifted off and headed into the city. As not to make the same mistake as last, I set it on autopilot right away, entering the law enforcement department building as a destination. The aircraft gradually lifted up higher and kept to its route, observing all transit rules as it did.

And then came the first reaction to the arrival of a living Relict: the scan frame. Though it had let our shuttle through unimpeded before, this time it lit up fiery and a forcefield flickered on, forcing our craft to brake. However, the scanning apparatus didn’t detect anything illegal, and we were quickly allowed to pass.

Fame increased to 97.

Seemingly, news of a living Relict coming to Taikhirhh-o-Tsykh had already begun to spread.

“Oh, a Fame boost! How nice!” Gerd Uline Tar rumbled in satisfaction. “If this keeps up, I could become a Leng like you in the blink of an eye, captain. Naturally, after you also rank up.”

“Master, I just got a message: ‘Fame increased to one,’“ the Chef-Assassin commented with notes of bafflement.

I told her it was nothing out of the ordinary. At the same time, I took the opportunity and asked:

“I have a question for you. What actually is your name?”

“Master, I still have an eight-digit number instead of a name. I am a clone, grown in the Doria-Laash incubator from a superbly genetically-engineered model of a flawless girl.”

“I see... But your whole long life, no normal name has ever caught your fancy? And by the way, how old are you?”

“My body was aged at an accelerated rate in an autoclave, all essential knowledge from childhood and adolescence has been written directly into my brain. To give me this game class, I was given precise doses of knowledge in the corresponding topics. After I was put into a virt-pod and my specialization was confirmed, I was given expanded knowledge of gastronomy, nutrition, poison and assassin skills.”

Quite the process! So the double game class was no coincidence. She was made for it specially.

“Did you make it through the Labyrinth?” I inquired.

“Of course,” the six-legged girl answered as if it were self-evident. “Otherwise I’d simply have been purged and replaced with someone that succeeded — what kind of buyer wants a loser? Since then, I’ve spent my entire conscious life, twenty-seven days, training at the Doria-Laash corporation’s training facility. I raised all my statistics by two points and got my skills up to proper levels. After that, because of my Assassin class, I was sent to the Hive of Tintara for an internship. And on the third day of my internship, I was purchased by my new Human master.”

Oh wow... So my new companion was born just one month ago. And her whole life had been nothing but training and learning. A robot, not a living creature. Programmed to blindly obey her master. I must admit, that frightened me. I needed to change it and, for starters, give my companion some unique feature to make her stand out from her millions of similar clones:

“Good thing you don’t have a name yet. But is there maybe anything you like? Something you wish to have for your own?”

“I like the name Gnat. What could be greater than the name of my master?”

Oops... Surprising. The immediacy and doglike loyalty of her answer really irked me. So much so that I lost it at first. No, I did not want to give my new companion the same name as me.

“‘Dangerous Discovery.’ How would you say that in Trillian?”

The girl honk-whistled out something that sounded approximately like, “Amati-Kuis Urshhh.” At the same time, I also learned that “Leng Gnat,” which was how she addressed me in Trillian, was pronounced something like “Lin Guynashhh.”

Astrolinguistics skill increased to level one hundred four!

And thus began my study of the Trillian language. At any rate, I thought it made a decent name for the Chef-Assassin, something even a Human could pronounce. I turned to Uline Tar, who was engrossed by the corkscrew skyscrapers:

“Mark this down in the crew list. The Trillian girl is now called Amati-Kuis Urshhh. We need to buy her a nice spacesuit and a weapon appropriate for an Assassin.”

Meanwhile, our shuttle started coming down and made a clean landing on a pad on the roof of the three-hundred-story helix-shaped building belonging to the city law enforcement department.

* * *

I WAS SO SICK AND TIRED... By the time I jumped over all the bureaucratic and legal hurdles and was finally allowed to see my crewmembers, I was so exhausted I could hardly move my legs.

“Where are those halfwits?” I asked a stocky Trillian draped in weaponry. He was a level-105 Trooper with an assault team leader badge and several marks of distinction branded into his bony chest plates. “By the way, can I shoot them all once to teach them to use their brains next time?”

I had already been told that this very Trillian had spearheaded the arrest and now was responsible for guarding the three casino guests. The true cause of their arrest turned out to have been attempted fraud. Not quite as fearsome a charge as I was anticipating. At the very least, fraud was not punished by execution. But nevertheless, there was little to be happy about and the punishment could be very severe indeed. Right up to five years space prison or a fine one hundred times greater than what they were attempting to gain.

Amati-Kuis translated my questions to the Trooper, and he pointed a clawed paw at an armored door. As far as I could tell before the Trillian girl answered, the response to the second question was negative. Over the course of this never-ending day, I had become quite familiar with Trillian mannerisms and knew that it was customary to tip law enforcement officers for a job well done. A handful of monetary crystals made their way into the Trooper’s paw and, with a respectful bow, he unlocked the cell door.

“Wait for me here!” I left my three companions in the antechamber and entered the cell with the arrestees.

Forcefields were holding them upright and keeping them from making any sudden movements. As for clothing, Tini, Destroying Angel and Svetlana Vereshchagina had been issued just crude gray coveralls reminiscent of canvas sacks with holes for their heads and arms. All their personal affects had been confiscated — quite a rational precaution in a virtual world where dying was often the simplest method of escape.

“So, who can explain to me what the hell happened in the casino?” I asked in a severe tone, not addressing any one of them in particular.

All three hung their heads dismally. First to answer was Svetlana the Assassin, pointing a hand at the frightened Miyelonian adolescent:

“Tini said he had a Na-Tikh-U roll generator. He told me and Destroying Angel it would be an easy way to make some cash. And well, we agreed...”

“He said the two of you always used it,” the German woman joined in and backed up her friend. “And that there was no risk.”

What was I hearing? “We always used it,” and “no risk?” First of all, I needed to explain a couple things to Tini because, as far as I could read in my Miyelonian ward’s mind, he thought the only thing he’d done wrong was getting caught. He felt no remorse over the criminal scheme itself, nor convincing two of my crewmembers to join him.

“Tini, that was a one-time thing. On the pirate station Medu-Ro IV. And we actually did get caught in the end. I had to explain myself to the owner of the casino and pay her three hundred large. And did you really not consider the fact that here, in the city of opulence, the casinos are surveilled much more closely and there would be zero chance of getting away with it? Your rash actions have put two members of my crew into very severe legal jeopardy! Sure you are underage, so the Trillian authorities will let you go with just a big fine from your captain. But your two partners are going to get raked over the coals!”

I pressed a red button on the wall, turning off the forcefield holding the little thief in place.

“Scram! Into the hallway! Collect your things from the guard and wait for me there!”

Tini didn’t argue and nimbly slipped outside. Now I needed to have a serious talk with Svetlana Vereshchagina and Destroying Angel. I crossed my arms behind my back and paced the small cell, gathering my thoughts and preparing the right words:

“So then, where are we at here? Two adult women committed a flagrant act of criminality because they trusted the judgement of an underage adolescent thief... Do you really think that’s an adequate explanation? And meanwhile,” I turned to the German gunwoman, “I never expected such idiocy out of you. A distinguished Olympic champion, the most trustworthy and judicious member of my team, a person I never would have thought to doubt, an example for all the others to imitate... And here she gets caught trying to defraud a space casino!”

Psionic skill increased to level one hundred twenty-one!

Maybe I was overdoing it with the mental magic, but both of the women were already weeping waterfalls of shame, ready to be stricken down where they stood. It occurred to me that maybe I should turn down the psionic pressure, but I held firm. Yes, this was the right way. Let them experience remorse and fear of the unknown in full measure. Maybe then they’d think a thousand times before signing on to another illegal and risky venture.

“Captain, I cannot find any justifications for my actions. I am guilty. What will become of us?” Svetlana Vereshchagina asked through tears.

With a heavy sigh, and not especially bending the truth, I told her in a firm tone:

“You will each be fined twenty-seven million Geckho monetary crystals. If you do not have that kind of money, you will spend five years in a far-flung space prison with some of the galaxy’s most notorious criminals. And if you had randomly chosen a casino belonging to the Par-Poreh royal family, you would have been subject to the death penalty.”

I made a pause to read the women’s thoughts and make certain that they had fully grasped the gravity of their possible punishment. Hmm... They had a bit, but not fully. Svetlana, for example, was still certain her captain would buy their freedom, and thus there was nothing to be afraid of. I had to escalate things even further:

“Let me tell you right now. I only have the money to pay for one of you. The second will be sent to prison and will spend the next five years surrounded by hardened scoundrels from every corner of the galaxy. And just so you know, the Trillians are great masters in the art of detaining wrongdoers. They will use either suggestion or drugs to break your will and force you to move your body into your cell block in the real world as well. Choose. Which of you should I save?”

Both prisoners exchanged glances. Destroying Angel reacted first. Through tears she squeezed out:

“I don’t deserve to be bailed out. I will go to prison.”

“No!” the second coconspirator objected. “I was the one who convinced you to agree! You didn’t want to take part at first. So, I am more at fault and deserve to go to prison. You should walk free.”

Destroying Angel shook her head:

“The twenty-seven million would be better spent on a combat starship to defend planet Earth. So, both of us will go to prison!”

Psionic skill increased to level one hundred twenty-two!

Mysticism skill increased to level sixty-five!

I checked both of their thoughts. Now I had achieved total remorse and willingness to undergo severe and deserved punishment. Well, alright then. I hope the lesson sticks. Using Telekinesis, I pressed the two red buttons at once, freeing both arrestees:

“Take your things and return to the frigate. And know this — I was not exaggerating in the slightest about the punishment. You should thank Gerd Uline Tar and our Relict Urgeh Pu-Pu Urgeh. The coming of a member of the ancient race to the city has overshadowed every other event. My business partner capitalized on the buzz and agreed to have Urgeh Pu-Pu Urgeh appear in a couple advertisements for the casino. And then the owner of the gaming establishment dropped the charges. And to get the charges the authorities brought against you dropped as well, Urgeh Pu-Pu Urgeh and I had to give a big three-hour interview to the Trillians, recounting our adventures in space and often revealing information that the Relict and I would have preferred to keep secret.”

For the last part I did have to bend the truth a bit. The interview was not at all forced. I myself had offered some Trillian journalists to give it. And not so much even to get the final charges against Destroying Angel and Svetlana Vereshchagina dropped — after the casino dropped their charges, the authorities didn’t much care to keep holding my crew anyway. I didn’t do it for the expected Fame boost either (though it had in fact grown to ninety-nine — the coming of a living Relict had generated massive interest from every spacefaring race). I had other more significant reasons. The return of Leng Gnat to our galaxy was no secret, and thus I had to carefully lead some very influential players to believe that I had not hung them out to dry with the mobile Relict laboratory, and all our agreements remained in force. Beyond that, when I said I had been put in charge of recruitment on Earth, I dropped a veiled hint and said I would need a very good instructor. The kind I had in my crew before. And that I did in fact have something to offer that instructor.

Chapter Eighteen. Duel

––––––––

SOME MIGHT SAY I got off easy, but I didn’t think so. I had to shell out bigtime to get my crew out of trouble. Argue, kick up a fuss, lean on my authority, and sometimes also use magic, bribes and promises. Well the Relict, of course, was also a big ace up my sleeve. Everyone was intrigued by Urgeh Pu-Pu Urgeh. They all wanted to see the reborn legend with their own eyes. Without the Relict, I can’t say if I’d have been able to pull it off. As it was I was walking a razors edge, getting away with just a fairly severe fine in the millions although I risked much worse. Taikhirhh-o-Tsykh was famed for its absolute security for guests and total lack of criminality. Fraud just so happened to be a criminal activity, and that was nearly our undoing. But my hard work was finally paying off. I had spent a long time working on my reputation, and now my reputation was working for me. If some unknown Free Captain had come to the law enforcement department to bail out his crew, he’d have been summarily dismissed. But no one could work up the courage to just chase off a prominent Leng, especially one accompanied by a living member the Relict race.

“Our Relict has become a Gerd!” my business partner Uline Tar told me with pride, as if she had been cranking up the Technician’s Fame herself. “Urgeh-Pu is in the casino now and he’s on a hot streak!”

“Yeah, the casino owner promised me today would be the Relict’s lucky day — to the tune of seven hundred fifty thousand. That’s his down payment for filming the ad. After that, the Technician will be delivered under guard back to our frigate. Uline, would you get in the pilot’s seat?” I asked the Geckho woman, “my head is just splitting after that long nerve-wracking day. Has our ‘distinguished’ threesome returned to the ship yet?”

“Yes, captain, all three are already back on the frigate. I have assigned each of them fifteen chores as punishment. I’d rather have them scouring the ship than robbing another casino!”

I mustered up a smile, then turned to the Chef-Assassin sitting behind me:

“Amati-Kuis, great job today! You held your own with dignity, just as a Leng’s companion should. You translated everything clearly and confidently. I couldn’t have done it without you. Thank you!”

The last part I said out loud in Trillian. Yes, the seemingly endless negotiations had been enough to teach me around fifty words. It was quite the easy language to learn, in fact. Much easier than Miyelonian or Geckho. No complicated constructions or grammatical cases. Word order was unambiguous, so there was no need to worry that you might say something that meant the exact opposite of what you intended just because you put the words in the wrong order. My Astrolinguistics skill was up to one hundred and eight by the close of the never-ending day. My Psionic, Mental Fortitude and Mysticism skills had also been pulled up a decent amount.

I must admit, I don’t remember flying back to the space port — I dozed off in the shuttle. Uline even had to wake me up. After I heard out the senior Engineer and made certain the repairs were going full swing, I headed off to get some rest. I had barely enough strength to make it to the captain’s berth. I thought I’d get my sleep right in the game, but the clang of cutting metal and shouts of the repair workers were too loud even through the hull, so I opened the menu and selected “Exit Game.”

I habitually dismissed the suggestion to review my statistics for the session — all that experience and level data only interested me at the very beginning. With time, it stopped seeming quite so informative and significant. I already knew all of my Gnat’s stats by heart, so seeing everything summed up again was pointless. I lifted the virt pod lid and headed to my nearby deluxe apartment on the Kasti-Utsh III station.

The electronic key didn’t work right away for some reason. At first the denial code lit up a few times, then I saw a message glimmer back from the wall panel: “Occupant identity verified. Attention! The security system detected an unauthorized entry to your room and changed the lock code.”

Interesting. I wonder who dropped by? Was it Gerd Ayni? Or had Valeri come for a visit? Or maybe someone else wanted to meet with me? I did a quick walkthrough. Oh! This was new — in the middle room on the top of a big white table I found a message written by hand in Miyelonian with dark blue marker:

“I scolded the special services for their indiscretion and ordered all surveillance gear removed from your apartment. Gerd Lekku checked himself — you’re all clear now. Pretty cute place you’ve got here. Maybe I’ll drop by some time, pay you a visit. Be ready to make that cocktail, the one I love.

Keetsie.”

There it is! Not everyone can boast that their residence has been blessed with a visit by one of the most famed rulers of the Miyelonian race. But I didn’t know whether to be happy about that or not. After all, I knew perfectly well what the Great One wanted — the mobile Relict laboratory. However, I was not yet ready to part with it, and I was frankly afraid of how Kung Keetsie-Myau might react if I turned her down.

* * *

THIS TIME I WAS ABLE to get a good night’s rest. Either there was some fancy schmancy “restful sleep” gadget in my bedroom, or ten hours was just enough, but I was actually surprised to find myself fully rested when I woke up. I took a contrast shower, just about scalding my skin off in the process when I tested out the shower setting, “electric pulse fur cleanse.” I went over to the data terminal and ordered a light breakfast delivered to my apartment, then sat back in an armchair in a bath robe with a can of hot invigorating beverage and put on the local news on the big screen.

There were two main stories: the coming of a living Relict to Trillian space with Free Captain Leng Gnat, and the military decorations given to Miyelonian troopers that had distinguished themselves in the recent military campaign against the Meleyephatian Horde. In the second, I saw Kung Keetsie-Myau constantly flickering past on screen. The commander of the Fourth Fleet personally gave the awards to the most valiant captains and commandos before herself receiving the highest decoration of the Union of Miyelonian Prides from the paws of a different ruler. It consisted of a platinum cocarde in the shape of a tailed comet mounted on a piece of headwear. She got it in honor of her being the most successful fleet commander of the Miyelonian race. Meanwhile, Kung Keetsie was shown so much in every story on every channel that I started to get the sneaking suspicion that Miyelonian society was being gradually prepared for my acquaintance to soon become their sole ruler, having overshadowed all others with her popularity and influence.

At a certain point, my attention was drawn by a suspicious noise from the hallway. Someone was stamping their feet outside the front door, seemingly even screeching their claws, then jerked at the handle. Was this the food I ordered? I brought up the feed from the door camera on my screen. Well, well! I didn’t even recognize her at first — it was just too out of the ordinary to see Valeri not in an antiradiation space jumpsuit. Instead she was decked out in some fancy long golden dress with a glimmering ornamental collar around the neck.

I jumped up out of my chair, opened the front door with the remote and hurriedly started grooming myself, using my fingers to smooth out my disheveled and still wet hair, fluff up my robe and quickly kick the empty self-heating can under the couch.

“Little Sister, come on now, what’s this?!” I pushed the huge Shadow Panther away as she tried to fall on me with affection, nearly knocking me off my feet. “Come in, Valeri. Just give me a minute to get myself into something more presentable.”

This was the first time I had seen Valeri outside the game and, I must admit, I was struck by the extraterrestrial girl’s beauty, both literally and figuratively unearthly. The Tailaxian’s huge eyes, skillfully underlined with cosmetics, looked three times bigger than normal human ones. Unusual, even somewhat shocking, but still so deliciously fetching! A light tattoo of four wavy lines on the swarthy skin of her left cheek (the symbol of the Great Hunter if memory served) did nothing to detract from this native of a different planet’s uncanny beauty. In fact, more the opposite. Instead of wearing her black hair in a rubber-banded ponytail or waist-length braid as usual, Valeri-Urla had put it up in an intricate style, distantly reminiscent of the one Princess Minn-O wore.

“Well Minn-O taught me to do it like this,” Valeri said with a smile, demonstrating her ability to read my thoughts and relishing my abashment with clear satisfaction. “By the way, thank you for the compliments! They’re very nice to hear!”

While I changed clothes in a different room, she looked over the big guest room, walked up to the full-wall panorama window and took in the view of the local star and open space.

“Nice place you got here...” she said, then gave a happy chuckle. “And looks like, I’m not the first to notice.” Seemingly, Valeri had read the marker scrawling on my table. “Keetsie... Keetsie... Is she the Miyelonian that’s all over the news?”

“The very same!” I confirmed, already changed into a stylish suit and back out in the main room. “Kung Keetsie-Myau, commander of the Union of Miyelonian Prides’ Fourth Fleet. I just so happen to be on friendly terms with that ruler of the Miyelonian race.”

“I see just how ‘friendly.’ You apparently even know the Great One’s favorite cocktail. By the way, I wouldn’t mind a drink myself. But that isn’t what I came here for. Gnat, I am deeply indebted to you for getting me out of prison and removing all the implants and implements of control from my body. And so, I challenge you to a mental duel!”

I smiled, thinking it was a joke or that my guest had misspoken. But no, the alien beauty wasn’t smiling at all and in fact looked supremely serious. Just to be safe, I asked:

“Wait, wait. There must be something I’m not getting. You’re grateful to me, and so you want to challenge me to a duel? Have I got that right?”

Valeri-Urla nodded, not taking her enormous hazel eyes off me, then finally tried to explain:

“Gnat, you have done a great deal for me. You strung along the Prelates of Tailax and leaders of the Horde. You took a risk for me. For my sake, you even did something that was once considered impossible — you devised a way of removing Tailax’s implants. A feat such as that surely merits the most generous of rewards. I spent a long time trying to think of a way to repay you and came to the conclusion that the most precious thing I have to offer is myself. But you see, Gnat, I was born and raised on a wild world, the quarantine planet Zeta Reaper III. And it has its own particular traditions and laws. On top of that, I am the Urla. The Great Huntress, the only one of my entire planet. I serve as an example for the hunters of all villages and so I am obliged to uphold ancient tradition like no one else. Only a man who can prove himself worthy of the Great Huntress may have her. So, prove yourself worthy! Defeat me in a mental duel! And note that I am not challenging you to an archery or dart throwing competition — those are the skills hunters are most proficient in on my primeval planet. Instead, outdo me in the domain you are proficient in!”

That cleared things up somewhat. Valeri-Urla hard yet again decided to test me. Just like our first psychic duel back on my old Tolili-Ukh X frigate. Like when she persuaded me to come bathe in the ocean teeming with Naiads. However, the fact she hadn’t even asked if I wanted to be with her came as no surprise. But what if I didn’t?

Valeri-Urla chuckled, again reading my thoughts with ease:

“Well, isn’t that exactly what you want? How long have we known each other, Gnat? About two months. How many times have we conversed mentally? And how often have I lent you support psionically? I’ve lost count. Your mental defenses have long since let me through unimpeded because you have very warm feelings toward me and consider me a close friend. So, I have read your intimate thoughts about me many times and know what I’m talking about. But if I am mistaken after all, all you have to do is tell me. I’ll leave your room at once and never pester you with this ever again, either in the game or the real world!”

I took too long to answer, she turned with dignity and silently headed for the exit. I had to call out to her, and even stopped the already opening doors with telekinesis:

“Wait a minute, Valeri! I admit, you are not wrong. I really have liked you ever since the first day we met and have dreamt of a woman as fantastic as you. And I agree, tradition must be upheld. And so, if a mental duel is the only way I can have you, let us have a duel!”

Before I’d even finished talking, Valeri-Urla attacked with no courtesies or warnings of any kind. I doubled over, my body stopped obeying me, my eyes went dark. Woah... I had no way of resisting such a harsh concentrated psychic attack. If at that moment she ordered me to run headfirst into the wall, I would have had no choice but to obey her command. But my mystified and helpless state only lasted for five seconds. Then a sense of spite started bubbling up within me. How could this be??? I was a powerful psionic, not to mention a Leng with heightened Intelligence and magical abilities. How could I not deal with some huntress from a primitive planet?!

“Because I’m not any old huntress, I’m the very best,” Valeri’s voice rang out in my head. “Gnat, you have no idea what I’ve been through. I have survived in places where all others perished. I spent my first night in the deadly Forest of the quarantine planet Zeta Reaper III at age thirteen. And that is generally a test used to confirm the mastery of senior hunters. I have collected twelve hunting trophies from the Horrors of the Forest, even though every encounter with one is thought to be lethal even for the most seasoned warriors and hunters. And I was only able to accomplish so much because I was aided by the psionic gift, which I have been honing and making more powerful ever since I was a child.”

Nevertheless, while Valeri told me about her eminent psionic abilities, I was gradually taking back control over my body. It’s hard to explain what our struggle consisted of to an outside observer — to me it felt like I was shaking off an invisible sticky film the Tailaxian had wrapped around my entire body, pushing it away. Finally, I broke free and stood up straight. My vision also came back.

Valeri was standing five paces away — proud, independent, dangerous. She was ablaze with the power overwhelming her and looked deliciously gorgeous! Behind her then stood a perplexed young Miyelonian food delivery boy, frozen stock still and holding a tray in his paws. He tried to say something, but I commanded the Miyelonian to freeze and not distract us from the crucial showdown.

So then, I had repelled my dangerous guest’s first attack. What next? Time for me to attack! I could of course have applied one of my new abilities — disorient the Tailaxian or use telekinesis to throw her off balance, breaking her concentration, then take control of her mind. But I was trying to fight fair and follow all the rules of a mental duel: only psionics, nothing else!

So, for the next few minutes the Tailaxian and I competed in brute mental force. It was like I was gradually pushing a heavy, invisible yet fully palpable wall away from myself and toward the Tailaxian. At first I was barely making progress, just millimeter by millimeter. But then the wall started to give more and more easily. Obviously, my rival’s strength was gradually failing her. Either that or I had rallied from her surprise attack and was finally back to full strength. In terms of raw magical power, Valeri-Urla was inferior to me, and seemingly she understood that herself. I was pushing my rival back further and further, and yet my victory was still pretty dang far away!

When suddenly...

“Little Sister! I need your help!” I broke through some invisible barrier and was finally able to reach Valeri’s thoughts.

“What do you need, big sister?” hearing the panther’s thoughts came as a complete surprise.

“Knock Gnat off his feet. Or just jump up on him and start licking him. I really need you to distract him. Otherwise I won’t last long and will lose this key duel.”

What now?! My rival was about to do something underhanded! I got ready to use an energy blast to fling the big cat away from me. However, the Shadow Panther just kept lazily licking herself and lying on the plush couch:

“No, Val. Gnat stinks of power, and I don’t want to get involved. Plus, I like him more than other people. So, don’t bring me between you and handle your male on your own. And let me also remind you that you told me yourself that you wanted to lose!”

“Not lose but make certain that Gnat is powerful and worthy! Hey!”

The look of unhidden horror on my rival’s face led me to guess that Valeri could now tell I was reading her thoughts. Her resistance sharply diminished, the invisible wall between us started creeping noticeably quicker toward the Tailaxian. Thirty more seconds and victory would be mine!

However, my victory was not in the cards. Gerd Ayni appeared in the doorway wearing a bright festive outfit — a violet vest with shorts and sandals of the same color. The Miyelonian stopped short and cast a gaze over the pictorial composition: the Miyelonian delivery boy frozen still, two people next to him with their arms splayed and staring one another down wrathfully while the air between them sparked with tension.

“Looks like I came at a bad time... Tell me, what are you two fighting about?”

I looked inquisitively at my rival and the Tailaxian gave a barely perceptible nod in return. Finally, I lowered my thrust forward hands, which were noticeably tired after pushing the invisible wall. My rival unclenched her tension-whitened fists and I saw a green stone talisman Valeri-Urla usually wore on a cord around her neck in her hands. It must have been an amulet conferring confidence and strength.

“Everything’s fine. We were just practicing,” the Tailaxian explained our strange behavior. Meanwhile Valeri’s voice rang out in my head: “Looks like our psychic duel ended in a draw!”

I didn’t argue, magnanimously agreeing even though I was just about to win. I let the young Miyelonian go as well, paying him a generous tip for the trouble. Just after the courier left, Ayni opened up the box he was carrying and winced in disgust:

“Which one of you was going to poison yourself with fast food? Throw this into the trash incinerator at once! One of the best restaurants on Kasti-Utsh III is right by here. Its menu has a rich variety of options for members of any spacefaring race. But most importantly — they serve authentic Miyelonian cuisine! Let’s go, I’ll take you on a culinary tour.”

Both Valeri and I agreed eagerly. The Tailaxian and I came to an unspoken agreement not to discuss what just took place between us. Or why we’d been dueling.

Chapter Nineteen. Set a Course for Earth!

––––––––

A GOOD DAY, which would go down as a rare moment of rest away from the game and all its obligations and concerns. It had been a long time since I had the chance to properly reset and to distract myself for even a few hours from the Meleyephatians, galactic war, space pirates and other such worries. And so, the first item on my agenda was visiting a cozy restaurant with an exotic menu accompanied by two beautiful women where we made nice conversation while fending off the Shadow Panther under the table begging for her share. After that we went on a stroll through the huge space station, taking in all its fascinating locations and points of interest. Then Ayni brought us to a light show performed by a troupe of Cyanids — huge intelligent bubbles which could, as it turned out, swallow differently colored glowing balls and move them around inside their bodies, walk through toxic smoke to change their color, and swallow flaming torches without getting hurt. In the end, the Miyelonian wanted to drag Valeri and I to some gladiator fights as well — something of a “challenge cup” where impervious and lightning fast Crystallids would take on anyone that wanted to fight them without causing serious bodily harm. But I had already had my fill of new experiences and refused.

A vivid, big day. I was annoyed, however, by the fact that the station’s inhabitants were paying close attention to me and my companions. Some made gestures with their paws, others took selfies with us in the background, and others still made utterly tactless attempts to butt into our conversations. There were also gruff tense Miyelonians wearing white First Pride armor following us everywhere. They also kept me from relaxing and feeling truly at ease. By the end of the day, I was tired of all that attention and had come to the firm decision that Kasti-Utsh III — although it was an interesting place, would never truly feel like home to me and I needed to get off this station as soon as an opportunity presented itself.

After bidding Valeri and Ayni farewell, and reflashing both of their electronic keys so they could freely visit my residence again, I headed into my virt pod. Entering the game.

...

Fame increased to 105.

Fame increased to 106.

You have reached level one hundred four!

You have received three skill points (total points accumulated: nine).

How amusing to level up right as I entered the game. That progress must have all been because of the sudden Fame boost. But overall there weren’t actually quite as many messages as I was expecting and they primarily all revolved around the stormy uptick in my character’s Fame — the video of the living Relict and Free Captain Leng Gnat was being viewed by more and more inhabitants of the galaxy all the time. That I could understand, but two messages stood out from the rest:

ATTENTION!!! Leader of the Human-25 Faction Valentina Koval proposes unification with the Relict Faction on the following terms: the Human-25 Faction shall join the Relict Faction in its entirety. Do you accept? (Yes/No)

ATTENTION!!! The monitoring program temporarily acting as leader of the Syam Tro VII Refuge proposes unification with the Relict Faction on the following terms: The Syam Tro VII Refuge shall join the Relict Faction in its entirety. Do you accept? (Yes/No)

As for the first message, I had no questions — the Russian scientific faction, after suffering a devastating onslaught by NPC Orcs had finally come around to bringing its players into the Relict Faction (or more likely got the external curators to agree to it). But the second message caught me off guard, and I didn’t even know how to react.

I quickly agreed to the first request — who could say? What if the H25 Faction’s players had no way of entering the game at the moment and had already started losing statistic points? And so, “Yes!”

ATTENTION!!! The Relict Faction’s player limit has increased from 33,756 to 33,843.

Just 87 more players. That meant the Human-25 Faction had just one level-one node. Frankly, not much. But at least they had a claim and their players weren’t in danger of dying in the real.

But the second message made me stall out a bit. What exactly was the Syam Tro VII Refuge??? Where even was it in the galaxy, and what races lived there? And there was some “program temporarily acting as leader...” Somehow suspicious. What if that was done to purposely obscure the true leader of this “refuge?” If I agreed to let this unknown band join my faction, I’d get a bunch of players of unknown levels and ranks, and a few of them could even be higher profile than myself. Then I’d be replaced as leader, wresting away control of my faction so they could quickly steal and sell off all the Relict Faction’s assets (bank accounts, construction materials, starships and everything else of even remote value). Then I’d be left out of the picture with my pockets inside out. Nope, not gonna happen! I left the question unanswered for the time being.

On to the next problem — all my unused skill points. It was time to do something with them because I’d gotten the first of them over a day ago, and they would now burn up if my character died. I didn’t stray from my established levelling plan, still aiming to meet the requirements for the Tachyon Bender and bring up my lagging skills: six points straight into Medium Armor. Let’s get it up to one hundred!

Medium Armor skill increased to level one hundred!

ATTENTION! You may choose your first specialization in the Medium Armor skill.

Splendid! So then, what kind of perks did the game system have to offer?

Reduce the weight of worn armor by a third... Useful, of course, although that perk would be more relevant to heavy armor users. Increase armor resilience by 50%, meaning it would be harder to crack. If armor couldn’t be repaired, that would be the most useful perk. However, given the Kirsan repair bots could fix my ancient armor suit, it was pretty much garbage, no use at all. Increase armor stat by a quarter. Now that was very, very valuable and I might have taken it, but the next option was much more to my liking: Increase energy shield capacity by 10% and bring its regeneration speed up by the same amount.

That’s the one for me! My Listener Energy Armor’s shield was my main layer of defense — it’s ability to absorb 14,420 units of damage made Gnat’s life much easier and more comfortable, because my character only actually had 2,325 hitpoints on its own. In terms of survival, increasing the capacity of my forcefield by 10% was actually equivalent to increasing my Hitpoints by 60%. I’ll take it! The capacity of the ancient armor suit’s forcefield instantly went up to 15,862. I was getting pretty tough. I could now survive being shot with an infantry blaster almost fifteen times!

The remaining three points I invested into Danger Sense, pulling that useful skill up to 97. That was all, done with pressing matters. I could enter the game. I appeared in the captain’s berth of Tamara the Paladin — the same place where I’d exited into the real world. Run a scan! I need to know what is going on around me.

So, the repair works were already complete, the Trillian technicians were packing up their implements and gear. I minimized the mini-map and carefully checked my ship for surveillance equipment and other surprises they might have left behind. Nope, all clear. But then where was my crew? On the ship I saw only markers for the two Engineers and Supercargo. On the bridge only the Navigator, and on the gangway Destroying Angel and Kisly were standing watch. I went out to get to the bottom of things.

As it turned out, Gerd T’yu-Pan, commander of the boarding team had called an unplanned training session and taken everyone else to an unoccupied neighboring hangar. Okay then, a noble endeavor. I approve! I headed over to watch, and maybe even take part. Gerd Ayni and Valeri appeared in the game after me and also went over to practice. Well, well. Even the Relict was training alongside the rest! And the first surprise — among my troopers I noticed a Trillian I hadn’t met before! A huge fifteen-foot-long crocodile crammed into a heavy armor suit was on the floor doing pushups in time with the others.

Gerd Ukh-Meemeesh. Trillian. Gray Trillian subrace. Level-202 Gunner.

Well, well! A living legend — the best shot in the whole Third Strike Fleet! I was especially impressed by the crooked purple band on the Trillian’s armor — a particularly highly-valued and esteemed decoration among the Geckho, equivalent to the Gold Star given to “Heroes” back in Russia. I walked up closer. Gerd T’yu-Pan, commander of the boarding team, saw his captain approaching and commanded everyone to stop working out and stand at attention. But I ordered them to ignore me and keep training, taking just First Mate Gerd Uline Tar. The sweaty Geckho woman removed the weight bands from her limbs and belt, then walked aside after me so we wouldn’t bother the others.

“Our trainer is just brutal today!” the Trader griped, her fur so soaked with sweat you could wring it out. “We’ve been warming up for the last half ummi and we’re already pushing the limits of our physical capabilities. Minn-O started feeling unwell, consulted with the Medic and was let go. But everyone else still has sparring and teamwork exercises ahead of them.”

I paid no mind to the Trader’s whining and pointed at the newcomer.

“I’m in shock, too!” Gerd Uline admitted. “He came to the starship, showed documents. He said his contract was already paid up and Captain Leng Gnat should already have been aware. Imran confirmed there was no mistake and Kung Waid Shishish’s best shot would now be a member of our crew. T’yu-Pan put half a ton of weights on him, but Ukh-Meemeesh doesn’t even seem to notice. He’s more machine than living creature!”

Meanwhile, the “warmup” finally came to an end and the sparring got underway. I hurried over to the boarding team commander and asked him to put the Dagestani Gladiator against the Miyelonian Translator. Recalling their argument before we took off from the city, I was struggling to come up with a fundamentally better match-up. The personal bodyguard of an esteemed Leng needed to prove his worth with the whole team watching, not lose to a noncombat character in an unfair fight.

“Three skirmishes with blades!” Gerd T’yu-Pan announced. “In case of death, the loser will respawn and pick back up fifteen minutes later!”

Gerd Ayni Uri-Miayuu had the level advantage on her side — one hundred twelve versus her opponent’s ninety-nine. She also had more statistic points due to her Gerd status, and a larger number of skill slots to top it all off. The Dagestani athlete though had wounded pride on his side — in one way or another, the combat-class player had lost his last three matchups against the peaceable Translator. And he yearned to prove himself worthy to serve as the captain’s personal bodyguard.

And it was quite the spectacle! It was more like a war than a friendly practice session. Blade duels tended to last a couple seconds at most, but the tension and weight of responsibility changed all that — the two rivals spent a long time circling and moving in quick spurts, while their grapples ended in lightning fast series of blows and parries, followed by blistering mutual retreats.

Eagle Eye skill increased to level ninety-eight!

A moving ball of steel and sparks, occasionally letting up, but then picking right back up where they left off. At times, I didn’t even have the Perception to tell what was happening in the arena. At a certain point, Ayni lost half of her left ear, sliced off by the flick of a blade. But the wound didn’t stop the Miyelonian from scoring the first victory, catching her opponent off guard with a lucky sweep of the leg, sending Imran to the ground then piercing his chest with her blade.

But Imran’s performance in the next two fights surpassed the capabilities of the human body. The Dagestani started to move faster than ever before! I couldn’t even really see him at all, just blurry contours! Two victories, and the second at a distinct advantage — the Miyelonian was sent to resurrection by having her head split with two blades at the same time. However, by then, the human also required a Medic’s attention — Imran was not able to stay on his feet and fell over. Gerd Mauu-La Mya-Ssa noted muscle spasms and exhaustion, injected some kinds of medicine and forbid Imran from continuing to take part in today’s training.

“Level one hundred, congrats!” I slapped my friend on the shoulder as he limped and waddled his way out of the arena.

“Thanks! But what mattered most was that I kept my place in Team Gnat,” the Dagestani chuckled through the pain. “As it was, I was starting to feel like the weakest link and thinking you could easily find someone better to replace me. I trust that you wouldn’t have gotten rid of me, though. I’d have left on my own if I really thought I was no longer up to the task. But wait, Gnat, my Fame is twenty-four already. A smarter player told me I’ll become a Gerd pretty soon. Then I’ll crank up my Agility, Strength and Perception and I’ll really be able to go balls to the wall! I’ll be of use to you yet!”

I didn’t say a thing because Imran had said it all himself. Yes, being the personal bodyguard of a Leng meant something, and the player occupying that position was simply obliged to rise to the challenge. I watched the duels a bit longer, paying particular attention when Gerd Urgeh Pu-Pu Urgeh the Relict used his disorientation technique. As it turned out, there were a bunch of subtle details that needed to be taken into account. Starting with not wasting mana when mystifying more than one target, the need to consider the varied number and positioning of sense organs in different races, and just the fact that different species relied more on different senses. For example, Miyelonians could find and snuff the Relict with their blades even while dazed until Gerd Urgeh Pu-Pu Urgeh figured out he should also be knocking out their sensitive whiskers. Trillians then, especially when down on all six legs, could sense tremors in the ground, which also had to be accounted for. Although I did not personally take part in the fights, I was still thinking through plans of action so I could use my skills as effectively as possible. And the game system acknowledged that:

Disorientation skill increased to level eight!

Disorientation skill increased to level nine!

I had nearly come around to taking part in the training session myself, but it wasn’t meant to be. My Engineers came to me with technical questions. Then the leader of the Trillian repair brigade asked me to sign off that they had finished their job and the starship was in full working order. And finally, the Navigator caught me in the hallway and asked where to set our frigate’s course to next — where were we going? And would we use our own power, or link back up with the mobile Relict laboratory? Before answering, I checked my senior officer’s mind. Absolute loyalty. In any matter that did not threaten the Geckho race directly, I could count on Ayukh in the fullest — he would never betray me or go wagging his tongue. And so I didn’t beat around the bush and answered honestly:

“Let’s check the thrusters and other starship systems near the station, then we can link up with the mobile laboratory. It’s somewhere here in the Taikhirhh-o-Tsykh system. I ordered it to jump to a random location and await further orders. And as for our course, calculate a direct null transport to the Solar System, third planet, exiting a few thousand miles from its surface. Just make sure to translate all the digits into the Relict coordinate system first, so you can enter them straight into the laboratory’s navigation computer. I’m afraid we might have to leave in a big hurry, and possibly even under fire from an enemy fleet!”

Chapter Twenty. The Solar System

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WITHOUT TURNING or taking a break from testing the ship systems, main pilot Dmitry Zheltov inquired:

“Captain, what makes you so sure someone is going to try and waylay us while we take off? We have a great view of near space even through the forcefield. The only ship nearby is a Trillian shuttle installing lighting beacons in the spaceport landing zone, that’s it. Not a single suspicious ship.”

I had seen the shuttle. As well as the fact that those were no beacons at all, but elements of a complex system for tracking the trajectory of departing ships. The Trillians really wanted to know where the Tamara the Paladin was headed. And although I did not anticipate aggression from the pointedly neutral masters of the Taikhirhh-o-Tsykh system, if they were to detect the location of my starship’s meeting with the ancient Relict mobile laboratory... the temptation to seize such a valuable trophy would be too great. If I were in their place, I would not be able to resist trying to take the ancient laboratory, which was filled to the brim with priceless technologies.

But another thing had me on guard. The mass scanner had detected the presence of something very heavy and not too far away from the planetoid. And there were no asteroids or starships in that part of space, at least visually. Whatever the scanner was picking up out there was too heavy to even be a star cruiser. Seemingly, there was a whole cloaked fleet stationed just a few hundred miles from the moon of the second planet.

But I didn’t tell my team about it because I didn’t want to risk aggravating things. I just said that, after the video clips with the Relict, the whole galaxy knew where my frigate was located. And our foes, who were quite numerous by this point, had had plenty of time to reach the Taikhirhh-o-Tsykh system and set up an ambush just outside the spaceport. I pinned it all on my intuition, which I made a habit of trusting. I also said that, in the immediate vicinity of the lively spaceport and its defensive systems and security ships, we had nothing to fear from space pirates or Meleyephatian Horde flotillas. But nevertheless, we had to keep our wits about us.

“Take off! Pilots, advance as little as possible. Just break away from the surface and go through the spaceport’s forcefield. Gunners stand by!”

I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate, imagine the positioning of objects in space. We were really zig-zagging! I had to get involved right away.

“Dmitry, San-Doon, cut speed! Hands off the yokes, your captain will be slightly correcting course.”

Cartography skill increased to level eighty-nine!

Machine Control skill increased to level one hundred thirteen!

This was the first time I had to get involved in their steering. Yes, I had no experience in the matter whatever but unfortunately there was no other way — my pilots couldn’t see what we needed to aim for. Okay, now we’re on the right path. Now to just add a bit of pull. There we go! Okay, this is gonna be the most pivotal moment. Got it! The frigate started creeping up to the distortion field around the waiting mobile laboratory.

From an outside perspective, it probably looked bizarre and crazy — a starship just barely took off, then slowly passed through the spaceport forcefield and... disappeared right before your eyes! But the explanation for the phenomenon was very simple: I had decided to take a risk and brought the much sought-after Relict Laboratory right next to the moon Taikhirhh-o-Tsykh II-II, stationing it just over a quarter mile above the surface. If it were a more massive heavenly body, gravity would have brought the station crashing down to the surface. As it was, the thrusters were barely able to cope.

Machine Control skill increased to level one hundred fourteen!

Electronics skill increased to level one hundred!

ATTENTION! You may choose your first specialization in the Electronics skill.

Nice, of course. But I can’t be bothered to choose a perk right now! I needed to cut speed fast and turn so the twinbody frigate’s right nose cone wouldn’t slam into the thousand-foot metal spindle of the ancient laboratory. I was briefly thrown off while trying to figure out which systems to use and in what order. And so, I returned control to the more experienced pilots who could already see perfectly well what needed to happen.

Zheltov started cursing and yanked the yoke toward him and to the left, while the copilot started working magic with the maneuver thrusters, tapping keys with the speed of a maniacal pianist. Yes! We miraculously managed to avoid a collision. It worked! The Tamara the Paladin was all the way under the distortion field and hidden from all observers and radar systems.

Authority increased to 99!

Authority? That boost most likely did not originate from my crew — Dmitry Zheltov was still freaking out at my far from professional and extremely dangerous maneuvering. I suspected it was outside players observing the Tamara the Paladin’s takeoff and now astonished at my arrogance. They were planning to deduce our flight trajectory then catch us with nimble interceptors at the exit point from a hyperspace jump. But they almost certainly hadn’t considered that the Relict laboratory might have been right under their noses. And... were they really just going to let us leave untouched? No, unfortunately my worries were on the money.

Danger Sense skill increased to level ninety-eight!

Two hundred miles away, a group of ships appeared in space — Meleyephatian models. Two Yukito-Unteh-class cloaked frigates, a Shmorsh IV light cruiser, a Mirosssh-Pakh-II-type assault cruiser and a Zondesh long-distance reconnaissance ship. Old friends! The Meleyephatian Spy Leng Soweesssh Eleven just couldn’t let bygones be bygones and was again trying to get his old twinbody frigate back. Well, nuts to him! This time I’m ready for a fight! Plus, they were already firing at us (or rather the presumed location of my frigate). By all tenets of space law, it was legal to return fire with no risk of being slapped with “Criminal” status.

“Light up the cloaked frigate,” I told the Gunners, placing a marker on a ship in the approaching group of opponents. “Stasis web placed. Target acquired. All cannons fire!!!”

Targeting skill increased to level fifty-five!

Sharpshooter skill increased to level fifty-three!

You have reached level one hundred five!

You have received three skill points!

The fragile little ship I marked disintegrated after a series of hits, blowing its reactor on the way out and lighting up the cosmos with a bright flash. But... that wasn’t all that happened that very second. On the back-view monitor I saw another bright flash, this time on the surface of the moon Taikhirhh-o-Tsykh II-II, which we had just left. Something on the ground in the spaceport had just blown up. At a force of about fifteen kilotons, as I was informed a second later by the ship’s computer. I couldn’t remember if there were any starships parked there or not. If so, bad luck to those poor souls — defensive screens were usually switched off while parked, so the explosion would have destroyed them. If not for the moon’s defensive field, which absorbed the shockwave and colossal outpouring of energy, my frigate also would have also taken a hit.

What even was that? Had the enemy Mirosssh-Pakh II cruiser missed, and the nuclear-tipped rocket it fired at us penetrated the planetoid’s forcefield and detonated down on the surface? Yes, that was the most obvious explanation. Although not the only one... I saw on my captain’s tablet that the ninth cannon — the one taken off the Dero interceptor, or rather the “desynchronizer” as my Engineer Orun Va-Mart had called it, had also fired.

“Captain, look!” The Navigator’s cry pulled me from my contemplation.

Wow! And what I saw made me open my mouth in astonishment. Just fifty miles from our ship, something unbelievable had appeared. A huge... no that wasn’t quite right. A HUGE mushroom-shaped starship. Its lengthwise axis was at least twelve miles, while the diameter of the “cap” was six or seven miles.

Purto-Pino-Soyesh. Ravager. Flagship of the Trillian Royal Fleet.

So that’s what my mass scanner was detecting! Other than that titan, there was a whole fleet hidden behind a distortion field, eight hundred ships at least. But somehow they all got lost on the backdrop of the flagship. Fortunately, my frigate was not that fleet’s target — the Trillians were attacking the Meleyephatian ships which, in the opinion of the defenders, were firing on their moon city. Clouds of drones billowed out toward the trespassers, and the cruisers blasted the enemy ships, destroying the light cruiser and recon ship. And then the Ravager shot! Just one volley and the Mirosssh-Pakh II assault cruiser blew away like a leaf in a stiff breeze.

Eagle Eye skill increased to level ninety-nine!

All that was of course extremely fascinating and, from our “front row seats,” we had a great view. But I was not exactly thrilled with the group of Trillian interceptors racing our way. Time for us to get out of here! There wasn’t enough time to transfer a long list of digits and coordinates to the Relict laboratory’s navigation computer, so I had it make a random jump within that same star system. The image on the monitors changed instantly and we were cast a hundred and fifty million miles away from the space battle.

I finally breathed a sigh of relief and turned on the loudspeaker:

“Let me congratulate you all. We made it out of the trap! Gerd Urgeh Pu-Pu Urgeh, Orun Va-Mart and San-Sano, take the shuttle to the mobile laboratory and check if its systems are ready for a long-distance null transport. Ayukh, relay the coordinates for a jump to the Solar System to them. I think we can all agree it would be best to test our thrusters and other systems there in a calmer setting.”

“That is true. Things got pretty hot here,” Zheltov the Starship Pilot agreed, then suddenly laughed into the microphone. “Just imagine the Meleyephatians’ surprise. They were waiting for us just outside a secure area preparing to dominate one lone frigate with their combined firepower and capture us. But our captain had an ace up his sleeve. And then... another!”

Seemingly, not everyone in the crew understood what the pilot was saying over the loudspeaker, but nevertheless they all laughed, delighted that things had turned out so favorably.

Authority increased to 100!

Attention!!! Your character has attained significant Fame and Authority and has now been assigned the rank of Kung. You have received eight stat points.

Attention!!! Your character may now create an alliance, in which you may include up to eight player associations (groups, clans, prides, factions etc.). When your character reaches Authority and Fame of 125, the limit will be increased.

Attention!!! Because your character lacks the Diplomacy skill, your alliance may only incorporate player associations composed primarily of members of your race (Human).

Only Gerd Jarg sitting next to me noticed my status promotion. The other players on the bridge were too busy and had their backs turned. I put a finger to my lips, indicating to the spiny Analyst that there was no need to go flapping his gums about the captain’s promotion just yet. Then I mentally summoned the new Trillian girl:

“Amati-Kuis, report to the captain’s bridge. I’m going to need your ring to block my character information for a couple days. Or, if you like, I could buy it from you outright. Or replace it with a ring conferring +2 to any statistic — our Dryad Jeweler knows how to make them.”

Half a minute passed and the Chef-Assassin nimbly ran onto the bridge carrying a ladle and wearing a plastic apron atop her sheets of bone. And the Trillian extended me the Null Ring:

“You can have the ring to keep, master. As for me, I’d like a +2 Agility ring if possible. And another thing, I’ve taken it upon myself to cook a festive meal to celebrate the occasion of my joining your illustrious crew. I am not familiar with other races’ cookery, but I am trying to keep strictly to the recipes. In half an ummi, I’ll set a table in the common room.”

The coming of the Trillian girl to the captain’s bridge attracted the pilots’ and Navigator’s attention. They turned in surprise, but I had already donned the Null Ring, obscuring my information. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust my crew. I just thought everything had its time and it was still too early to show anyone the newest ace up my sleeve.

And meanwhile, the image on the big viewing monitor changed again. Almost a third of the screen was now occupied by the virtual Earth. And although the blue planet looked nothing like geographical maps of the real world, it was still no less my home, no less priceless. I turned on the loudspeaker:

“All clear, back to standard routine. If anyone would like to make a quick exit into the real world — now is the time. And in half an ummi, our new Chef would like to invite you all to join her in the common room. We will be celebrating the successful conclusion of our long voyage together and judging just how vastly the delicacies prepared by our professional Chef differ from the dry rations we’re all sick to death of. And my contribution will be drink for the whole crew except for the two pilots. Dmitry and San-Doon will get theirs after the frigate touches down on the planet.”

A contented hum rolled through the ship mixed with outcries proclaiming their captain’s greatness. I even thought I might see yet another Authority boost, but no such luck.

“As the person in charge of finances for the whole enterprise, I have only one thing to say — you’ve all done a great job! You will all be paid a bonus of eight times your salary in addition to your fixed wage immediately after we land at the spaceport,” my first mate Gerd Uline Tar added, and a deafening roar of nearly thirty throats rolled through the frigate.

Authority increased to 101!

I strained to hide the contented smile trying to creep onto my face. Yes, my business partner knew better than her captain how to get the team fired up. My crew had come by all that honestly, though. Before takeoff from Taikhirhh-o-Tsykh II-II, Gerd Uline Tar and I tallied up a provisional assessment of the prolonged voyage, and our earnings and acquisitions brought us unequivocal joy. The only thing that saddened me was that Princess Minn-O was still feeling unwell and lying in her bunk. A rough bout of morning sickness. Our experienced Medic Gerd Mauu-La even pulled me aside and advised me to leave the Princess on planet because the extreme forces and stresses associated with space flight could have a disastrous effect on the health of our future child. I promised to consider what the Medic said.

Chapter Twenty-One. Out of the Game and into the Real

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I WAS TALKING with our new Gunner Gerd Ukh-Meemeesh — a surprisingly relaxed and even deliberative Trillian, he was nice to chat with and actually somewhat shy. I couldn’t detect even a drop of “star sickness” in him, which was actually surprising for someone with a purple ribbon. In fact, he was only the third member of a different spacefaring race in history to be found worthy of such a high honor from the ruler of the Geckho. The only special request the fifteen-foot long six-legged “crocodile” made was for a new gunner’s seat adapted for his shape and size. The standard one was too small and cramped for him. The Trillian and I chose an appropriate replacement from a catalogue and I immediately instructed Uline Tar to order it for delivery to the Geckho spaceport on Earth.

Gerd Ukh-Meemeesh was fairly tight-lipped about the part he played in past military conflicts and his former employers. The little information I did get I had to squeeze out of him drop by drop. But the Gunner did not hide his skills and willing shared his ability list with me. Heavy Weapons three hundred forty-seven. Gravity Weapons two hundred ninety. Energy Weapons three hundred five. Sharpshooter... four hundred twenty!!! Tracking, Ballistics, Trajectory Prediction... all of those skills were far beyond two hundred. The sky-high figures made my head spin. By the way, I made a mental note that Gerd Ukh-Meemeesh would have no problem using the Mechanoid Spatial Cutter — the ancient weapon which was no being stored in my faction’s territory on Earth, which I had obtained from the bogus “antiquities trader” on Kasti-Utsh III.

Vasily Filippov the Bard apologized for distracting me from the conversation and extended a sheet of paper with a collection of digits. I didn’t understand what it was at first, but then it dawned on me:

“Have you finally assembled the device from the set of long-distance communication blueprints the Prelates of Tailax gave us?!”

“Yes, Captain Gnat. We assembled it in the real world and determined our coordinates for a long-distance communication uplink. The Dome project curators have told me that it is now located in the Onega-3 complex and they are willing to talk. They also asked me to say they had a lot of questions for you.”

A lot of questions? Amusing. Had the curators of the Dome project really not yet figured it out? Did they really still think they had any way of strong-arming me? If anything, it would actually be entertaining to show them the true state of affairs in all its glory. I asked Filippov if he would come with me into the Pyramid Contact Hall.

“Unfortunately not, captain. I was urged to come to come to Onega-3 personally. A helicopter is already waiting outside the Dome. They said they might need me to comment and explain some things, so I will be there with them. What do you say, Leng Gnat? Shall I tell the curators you’ll be ready for a video conference in forty minutes?”

I nodded and released the Bard into the real world. Then I activated the Scanning icon, gathering information about the players currently located on my frigate. Gerd Minn-O La-Fin, Gerd Uline Tar, Gerd Ayni Uri-Miayuu... Just what I needed! They would make quite the formidable retinue for a prominent Free Captain. I asked those three players to accompany me at the talks.

* * *

“READY, LENG GNAT!” Miyelonian Engineer Orun Va-Mart finished working his magic with the settings, and the lights in the Pyramid Contact Hall went out.

After four seconds of absolute darkness, a big rectangular screen lit up before us. On it I could see a familiar small chamber filled with people. Almost right away, I recognized Igor Tarasov, leader of the Human-3 Faction, and Alexander Antipov its security director. I also saw Valentina Koval — leader of the now defunct Human-25 Faction, which had merged into the Relict. And I saw Vasily Andreyevich Filippov sitting in the front row wearing a military uniform with major patches.

By all appearances, they could also see Gnat and my companions beside me because, after a brief pause, the voice of the man conducting the assembly rang out in dismay — it was the same gray-hair as last time, Major Kudryavtsev. The one who had ordered me arrested.

“Kirill, these were meant to be confidential talks, and we assumed you would be alone.”

Gerd Ayni, standing behind me, unflappably translated that into Geckho, as well as my response:

“These are my official spouse, my business partner and my authorized representative. Each of them has the right to speak in my name in an official capacity. I trust all three of them implicitly. Furthermore, it is my understanding that we are here to discuss humanity’s part in the war on the side of the Geckho, finances, purchases, space logistics and the parallel magocratic world. Gerd Minn-O La-Fin and Gerd Uline Tar know more about these issues than me and, without Gerd Ayni, you would not be able to find a common tongue.”

All those in the hall started exchanging whispers. The presence of three outsiders clearly bothered them. I though wasted no time and brazenly read the curators’ thoughts:

“So this is how he’s gonna play it? Curious.” “The Princess is representing our enemies.” “They are all prominent players and we must treat them with respect.” “Well, the kitty is alright. She’s cute.” “Why does Gnat have no people from our world in his inner circle?”

A little while later, the Major voiced the common opinion:

“Kirill, your companions may remain, however, that means our agenda will have to be truncated. But for starters, I’d like your remarks on the following issue: the faction directors,” he pointed at Alexander Antipov and Igor Tarasov, “say they haven’t seen you under the Dome for a long time. And apparently, a few days ago, your virt pod in corncob fifteen opened all on its own and was in fact empty. How do you explain that?”

I simply couldn’t believe my ears. Had faction leadership really not yet realized that I had changed my exit point into the real world a whole ten days ago??? No, I mean this wouldn’t be the first time I’d been struck by the massive delay between game events and the curators finding out about them. But was it really so hard to notice that a person had spent much longer than the maximum possible time in the game? Or that I had left the game several times in the last few days (my crewmembers could have told them that), and yet still not appeared under the Dome. Putting those facts together and drawing the obvious conclusions seemed to be the easiest thing imaginable. I shook my head in reproach:

“At our last meeting, you ordered me arrested. And now you ask me this...?”

“Not arrested, temporarily detained,” the officer corrected me, but I just waved it off:

“Call it whatever you like, the idea doesn’t change. I did not appreciate being confined one bit. Is it really so strange that I took certain measures to avoid such unpleasant incidents in the future? And... by the way! I sent H3 faction leader Igor Tarasov a message saying I spoke with the ruler of the Miyelonians Kung Keetsie-Myau on the Kasti-Utsh III space station. In my view, that made it completely obvious where my body was located in the real world.”

Here even my companion Ayni couldn’t resist an acrid remark, though it was in Miyelonian so only I would understand:

“Do the people of Earth really not watch the galactic news? You, me and Valeri were shown on Miyelonian and Geckho channels. I saw the reports myself.”

“This will surprise you, Ayni, but most people of Earth not only don’t watch the galactic news, they don’t even suspect the Miyelonians and Geckho exist.”

My tailed Translator started opening her mouth to say something, but the surprise just left her standing there with her maw agape. And meanwhile the curators asked their next question, this time surprisingly on topic:

“Kirill, as far as we understand, the suzerains have tasked you with mustering the army of Earth. But may we inquire as to who will be leading the army during the hostilities? Have the Geckho appointed any human generals? Or generals of any other spacefaring race for that matter? Or do you presume you can lead thousands of soldiers into war on your own without even the most minimal army training?”

Good question. Yes, I did not in fact have any experience leading large army units or conducting mass scale battles. I would make a terrible commander and I understood that perfectly well. But I knew a person who did have more than enough experience — leader of the Second Directory General Ui-Taka, a man regarded as the best military leader of modern times by the leaders of the magocratic world. Furthermore, the recent conflict the general headed for the La-Fin Faction against the H1, H3 and H6 factions at the same time had proven his reputation for talent was not the least bit undeserved.

That was exactly what I said back to the curators, along with the fact that General Ui-Taka had already sworn to help me wholeheartedly both in the game and the real world. Yet another pause took hold — they were all discussing my unexpected response.

“We approve. General Ui-Taka makes an appropriate candidature for the role of commander of the united army of Earth,” Major Kudryavtsev again voiced the collective decision. “By the way, if the general refuses for some reason or needs help, the General Staff of Russia is prepared to provide specialists with great experience in conducting military operations. The Human-3 Faction is also prepared to provide up to fifteen hundred troops to the fledgling army and agrees to hand over the Second Legion in its entirety for special missions in the parallel world for...” here the assembly chief paused as if he couldn’t make up his mind to say the number, “eight million Geckho crystals! Our economists have calculated that precise figure — it is exactly how much we will need to purchase gear and armaments for our fifteen hundred draftees for the war against the Meleyephatian Horde.”

I didn’t respond and turned to my business partner, who listened carefully to the translation. Uline Tar maintained her calm appearance, just clarified whether it was remotely proper for them to suggest I should be spending my, or rather our shared money on purchases for what was in fact a different faction. Why could the Relict and La-Taka factions get by on their own, while my former faction effectively signed off on its own impotence? Should I perhaps not pressure these people with the authority bestowed upon me by Krong Daveyesh-Pir and insist they carry out the suzerains’ order? Or at the very least should I not say I would only give them the eight million crystals as a loan?

Here I asked the curators for a pause so I could discuss. Furthermore, I saw that Vasily Filippov and Igor Tarasov, who could understand what the Geckho woman was saying, were translating her completely justified questions for the others. By the way they immediately looked dejected, I could tell the curators hadn’t looked at the financial problem from that perspective.

“My husband, the support of the Second Legion is essential and will help us maintain power through the mayhem being wrought in the magocratic world,” Princess Minn-O La-Fin voiced her opinion, switching to her native language. “Eight million is very serious money. But our lives and the life of our future child are worth more.”

Finally, all the whispering ceased. They were all silently awaiting my reaction. I though was in no hurry. I did have eight million, I didn’t even have to ask Uline Tar for help. However, how justified really was having one player spend his own funds to solve the financial issues of a huge faction? Should they perhaps be made to deal with it themselves like all the other Earth factions — by selling precious resources, especially given the prices in the spaceport should have been made acceptable already? On the other hand, agreeing to dispatch the three hundred soldiers of the Second Legion into the meat grinder of a war that was entirely foreign to them was a big step to meet us half way on the part of the Human-3 Faction, and that gesture had to be recognized. Furthermore, Princess Minn-O’s opinion coincided with mine entirely — maintaining power over the First Directory and thus retaining the ability to recruit basically unlimited numbers of troops from the magocratic world into my faction justified any expenses.

Finally, I told them my decision:

“You shall receive the eight million crystals, but only under the following three conditions. One: the Human-3 Faction shall construct a planetary shield generator on its territory. I will provide blueprints, technologies, materials and all necessary equipment. You may choose the location, preferably to the east of the Eastern Swamp node so it’s far enough away from the generator already under construction on Rocky Island. Everything you need will be delivered to the shore of the bay — you will bring it from there to the site. Well and, as stands to reason, you will provide the labor. And you will need a lot of workers. I give you exactly one year to construct it. This issue is of critical importance for the survival of humanity, so this is all extremely serious. If you do not meet the deadline — all directors of the Human-3 Faction will be executed with no exception, as well as everyone else at the assembly today. In the real world. And I will find a way to make good on that threat, you needn’t have any doubts!”

Psionic skill increased to level one hundred twenty-three!

Mental Fortitude skill increased to level one hundred twenty!

Authority increased to 102!

I made a very serious psionic investment to boost my words, burning up half of my mana with that one message. And then I fell silent, carefully observing the curators’ reactions. Yes, at first they were predictably shocked. But I was purposely formulating my words as harshly as possible so the gravity of their mission and each of their personal responsibility for it would be crystal clear. Also, discovering that the Gnat on screen was now bigger than some expelled student slash gamer would be a very good lesson for the curators of the Dome project to learn. Let them get used to the fact that times had changed, and they were now up against someone who could give them orders and make certain they were being carried out.

Despite the harshness of my speech, they didn’t attempt to refute the first point at all. In fact, the Human-3 Faction was interested in the mass-scale construction project for a variety of reasons. New technologies, expansion into new territories, infrastructure development, and yet another big step toward keeping our Earth safe. Here our goals coincided completely. Once I was sure the curators agreed with me, I continued my speech:

“Condition two: the Human-3 Faction must at long last become self-sufficient. By the time of the second draft, you must be able to provide your troops with everything they need. I have demanded our suzerains reduce prices for space imports, while purchase prices for our goods have been increased six-fold, so favorable financial conditions for the Human-3 Faction are assured. Or, like my Relict Faction, you could even build the capacity to produce everything you need on your own territory.”

I listened closely to the emotions and thoughts of my audience. Again, rejection. The curators agreed with my demands and even, as far as I could understand, the Human-3 Faction already aimed to do that without my urging. Alright, so I found complete agreement there as well. I moved on to the final point:

“And condition three, also obligatory: no more concealing the truth about the game that bends reality! Humanity must know what a grave challenge they are up against, and that its very existence is at stake. I don’t know exactly how — either through an official speech by the president or something on the UN podium — but the people must know the truth.”

For some reason, the response to that was a murmur of dismay. What was this? I couldn’t understand the cause of their indignation. But then one of the people, wearing a stylish suit from a famous couturier, stood up and requested the microphone. Before that curator even began to speak, I read in the thoughts of the others that he was a representative of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.

“Kirill, do you really believe this issue is not already under consideration, and that the information blackout about the game that bends reality is some freakish whim of the Russian state? Let me assure you that our diplomats have carried out innumerable consultations with our foreign counterparts. And in places we have encountered fierce resistance verging on threats of open war. Some of the sanctions placed on various countries in the last few months, regardless of how they are explained formally, are in fact intended to muzzle these countries and keep them from talking about the game that bends reality at any cost. After all, think for yourself — the current world order would collapse in an instant if humanity were to find out about its suzerains and accept the terms of the game.”

Oh wow... That came as a surprise. But still I tried to object:

“The example of the magocratic world,” I pointed at Princess Minn-O La-Fin, “proves that telling the truth won’t make the sky fall. In fact, it will greatly simplify the task of recruiting troops for all factions. And anyway, would it really be better to have the world order collapse in a year and a half when invading starships come into orbit around our planet?”

A gray-haired Lieutenant General sitting next to the diplomat took the microphone from his colleague and answered my question:

“The world order, I suspect, would not collapse. The most influential political leaders and financial clans on our planet have long been aware of the game that bends reality. Some take active part in it; others look on it as a promising investment opportunity. And naturally the limited timeframe worries everyone. All factions are preparing for it in one way or another. We are also aware that the other terrestrial factions have their own plans for the end of the tong of safety. It is especially obvious on the big continent of the virtual planet, where disparate factions are consolidating and forming a unified military and political pact. The Russian H3 and H23 factions have also received an offer to join this new center of power. I would prefer not to discuss this topic in front of your companions, though because this is an internal matter for humanity and does not pertain to other races. However, even a cursory glance at the new coalition’s plans proves that they are much more realistic than your utopian fantasy of uniting any and all factions under the umbrella of your personal Relict Faction.”

Chapter Twenty-Two. Terrestrial Affairs

––––––––

I NEVERTHELESS AGREED to pay the Human-3 Faction its eight million crystals, and even dropped my demand to inform the masses about the game that bends reality. I really did not have the full story there, and so I preferred to just give up my third demand rather than blow the whole thing.

Furthermore, the news that a “united center of power” was forming on the big continent of the virtual planet needed to be thought through and studied in depth. Yes, the curators of the Dome considered the coalition an alternative and in fact more promising path than cozying up to my Relict Faction. But what if the new coalition was not a competitor to my Relict Faction, but a potential ally in the fight to keep our shared planet safe? Powerful Earth factions were of vital importance, and I was in no way planning to suppress collective action by others. In fact, I aimed to cooperate with them — scientifically, industrially and, well, of course in mutual reinforcement for the good of our common home planet.

During our talk I also heard something from Major Kudryavtsev that had me greatly intrigued:

“The Geckho have confirmed that there are more and more human factions on Earth all the time, and those factions are growing larger and more powerful. As it stands, there are already around thirty human players with Leng status. And soon we will also have our very own Kung — the most powerful of the high-profile players, someone who can unite the various factions of Earth under their leadership. There have been certain hints to suggest that this Kung will emerge in the new coalition — they have a special program for rapidly levelling Fame and Authority for faction leaders. And when that Kung appears, the Human-3 Faction is planning to work with them.”

Oh, how my tongue was itching just then to tell everyone that the “great and terrible Kung” they were all waiting for was none other than the Gnat on their screen! I wanted to take off my Null Ring and gaze upon the faces of the curators, who had just a few minutes prior refused deeper integration with my Relict Faction, calling my plans “utopian” and “untenable,” and saying they’d chosen a different path for the Human-3 and Human-23 Factions. But I held back. I figured that was not the time to demonstrate my new status. I had to first take a deep dive into the politics of the game on earth and better grasp the situation on the virtual planet.

The remote talks went on a bit longer, but what we discussed after that was smaller scale and less interesting. The particulars of redeploying the three hundred Second Legion fighters into the parallel world. The rallying point for the unified army of Earth. The construction of a training camp in the immediate vicinity of the Geckho spaceport. Whether they could use the shuttles my business partner and I were renting to deliver some shipments the H3 Faction had ordered to Earth. Accelerated Geckho language courses for humans. The intricate settings of the game menu for faction leaders. Other topics were only of interest to those directly involved.

Finally, I considered our discussion over and ended the call, asking the former leader of the Human-25 Faction Valentina Koval to come to the Geckho spaceport — I had a large number of projects connected with her distant node on the big continent.

* * *

“MY HUSBAND, YOU GAVE in to those people strikingly fast,” Princess Minn-O told me when we got back to the frigate and were alone in the captain’s berth. “And I know you too well to think they scared you into relenting. Or that you’d give up on your personal ambitions in favor of some semi-mythical Kung of Earth without having a plan b.”

I walked up to the Princess, sitting on the bed and stroked her silvery hair tenderly, then gingerly placed a hand on her belly. Minn-O’s pregnancy was still not showing, but my high Perception already allowed me to sense the beating of the little heart in her womb.

“Yeah, you’re right. It’s just that I already know who this Kung of Earth will be, and so I see no reason to argue or lock horns.”

“And who will it be?” Minn-O raised her eyes to me in surprise, then figured it out. “You are that Kung, the one they’re waiting for! So that’s why you’ve hidden game info.”

I shot her a cheery wink and temporarily removed my Null Ring to confirm my wife’s guess. Minn-O started smiling in satisfaction and squeezed herself up against me. It was an exceptionally appropriate time to discuss our further plans. Selecting my words with the utmost care, I expressed the idea that Minn-O would have to leave the starship crew and stay on the planet for the sake of our child’s health. I was expecting rebuttals and serious resistance, but she gave me neither.

“Yes, that would be the right thing to do. I was looking for a good excuse to talk to you about that myself. Because recently I very nearly suffered serious complications or even lost the fetus. The only thing that saved me was the timely intervention of the ship Medic. I really do need to take better care of myself. Just to avoid gossip, I have to ask you to again make me your senior wife, because a wayedda must always be at her husband’s side during his journeys.”

I promised to do that in the next couple of days, and make sure it was big news for the whole magocratic world. Now that I had confirmed that I could make direct contact with the real world from the game, as ruler of the First Directory, I no longer had to communicate with my subjects only through middlemen. The time had come to give a big speech. I wanted to tell them all how I saw the situation in the magocratic world and give my opinion on the precepts of old and the antimage uprising. I expected that speech to go off like a bomb, so I tried to think through every aspect, foresee all possible consequences and prepare with the utmost care.

Minn-O closed her eyes and, smiling constantly at the thoughts in her head, drifted off to sleep. I looked at the time. Our new Chef-Assassin’s big celebratory meal was just half an hour away. Just the time to spend up Gnat’s unused statistic points and get an overall idea of his skills and what needed to be bolstered:

Kung Gnat. Human. Relict Faction.

Level-105 Listener

Statistics:

Strength

14

Agility

18

Intelligence

33 + 7

Perception

29 + 2

Constitution

17

Luck modifier

+3

Attention!!! You have eight unused stat points.

Controlled drones

3 of 3

Parameters:

Hitpoints

2346 of 2346

Endurance points

1525 of 1713

Magic points

1180 of 2352

Carrying capacity

62 lbs.

Fame

106

Authority

102

Skills:

Electronics

100 ATTENTION!!! You may choose your first specialization in this skill

Scanning

72

Cartography

89

Astrolinguistics

108 * First specialization taken

Rifles

66

Mineralogy

60

Medium Armor

100 * First specialization taken

Eagle Eye

99

Sharpshooter

53

Targeting

55

Danger Sense

98

Psionic

123 * First specialization taken

Mental Fortitude

120 * First specialization taken

Machine Control

114 * First specialization taken

Mysticism

68

Telekinesis

13

Training

27

Disorientation

9

Attention!!! You have three unspent skill points.

––––––––

FIRST OF ALL, I SPENT up my skill points. This time I set my previous strategy aside and brought up Eagle Eye and Danger Sense to a hundred so I could handle all three skills’ perks at once. For Electronics I chose the specialization Error Vision, which allowed me to exclude obviously incorrect connectivity and action options when working with electronic systems. A useful specialization, which would be a significant help to my character when working with unfamiliar and complex computer systems. As for Eagle Eye, I also didn’t try to be too clever and chose the obviously useful perk “Increase Visual Distance by 20%.” But Danger Sense left me lagging like an old computer. It felt like I needed every option:

- Increase danger warning time from 2 to 3 seconds.

- Increase warning trigger probability.

- Act intuitively to avoid immediate threats to life.

- Ignore external factors and internal states that might prevent skill from triggering (sleep, illness, alcoholic or narcotic intoxication, hypnosis, etc.).

- Detect source of threat instantly.

- Weaken or even fully deactivate an opponent’s Danger Sense skill.

After nearly ten minutes’ contemplation, I made my choice and landed on the last option. After all, I’d been impeded by an opponent’s Danger Sense skill before! The now long-ago firefight with Minn-O La-Fin on the Geckho ferry had proven that an adversary with high Danger Sense could leave me totally impotent and them nearly invulnerable.

So then, done with the skill points. Time to get to the tastier morsel — the eight stat points just waiting to be spent! Strange as it may have been, there I didn’t hesitate one bit because I already had an approximate idea of what needed strengthening. Three points right into Perception! A lot of my character’s skills depended on that statistic: Cartography, Eagle Eye, Sharpshooter, Rifle, Scanning, and partially Electronics as well. That whole group of skills had been lagging noticeably behind in recent times when I had been orienting myself more around Intelligence. That needed to be fixed. So then, Perception went up from twenty-nine to... That’s right, thirty-three. I got one “bonus” point for every two invested into a statistic over 20.

You might be asking why then did I not invest one more point into Perception to get another bonus? And that would be right of course, but I was hoping to add another point to Perception in the future as it was — any statistic could be improved by three points through extensive use, and I had only brought up my Perception by two so far. And so it would be best to wait and get that precious bonus point when the statistic went up on its own. The free point, meanwhile, could find a better application.

So then, Gnat’s Perception was up to thirty-three and, with the IR-Visor on, my effective Perception was way up at thirty-five! I immediately started to perceive the surrounding world differently — my vision became more contrasting and distinct. I could smell the appetizing aromas from the galley clearly, hear Minn-O’s even breathing in her sleep and even make out an altercation between Kisly and Eduard through three partitions. As you might have guessed, my two crew members were arguing over the NPC Dryad Nefertiti and, though they had raised their voices, they were still at an acceptable volume.

As for the remaining five characteristic points, I invested four right into Intelligence, bringing that highly important figure up from thirty-three to thirty-nine (yes, I got a whole two bonus points). With my rings on, my effective Intelligence was now at a sky-high forty-six!!! Oh-ho, I do not envy the enemies who dare to challenge me in Psionics now! I had nearly a one-hundred-percent chance of disorienting someone due to my Intelligence advantage — I was almost certainly ten points above any given player. Even my wife’s sinister old grandpa, Coruler of Humanity Leng Thumor-Anhu La-Fin would have been no match for me after this. From now on, only the most outstanding players in the game like the Relict Hierarchs, or Miyelonian Fleet Commander Kung Keetsie-Myau, or the Great Priestess Leng Amiru U-Mayaoo could go toe to toe with me in a mental duel.

Along with my Intelligence, my mana went up by almost five hundred points at once! Trust me, that’s a lot. More than a lot even. That was an additional several attempts to take control of complex machines (by the way, the success chance for those operations would be sharply increasing as well!). Or an extra minute of grueling psionic battle against several adversaries at once. Oh, Valeri-Urla, you were very lucky to have challenged me two days ago instead of today. Today I’d be able to crumple your psionic defenses without even breaking a sweat.

As for the last statistic point, I put it into Constitution, bringing it up to eighteen. That gave me a bit more Endurance, Hitpoints and just made the high G forces of spaceflight easier to bear.

Chapter Twenty-Three. Instructor of the Army of Earth

––––––––

THE CELEBRATORY MEAL was an unqualified success. It must be said that, before we feasted, I was of course wondering where products native to Earth might be found on a Trillian resort moon, so I was mentally prepared for “approximations.” And so I didn’t ask the Chef why my bowl of “borsht” (as Amati-Kuis called the dish she served me) contained a piercingly blue stew the consistency of thick oatmeal and had some little three-eyed thing swimming around in it and assiduously pushing its way through bunches of bright orange seaweed. All the other crew members ate and in fact heaped praise on the food, so I didn’t inform the team that the food before them on the table was actually exotic space grub, instead insisting we were eating “traditional Earth cuisine.” What mattered most was that it was edible and even tasty.

Another peculiarity of the dishes the professional Chef prepared were their positive game bonuses — some gave accelerated regeneration, others temporary boosts to maximum Hitpoints or Endurance Points, while others still gave various minor but highly pleasing positive effects. I’d have to take note of that and make use it. For example, additional hitpoints and accelerated regeneration would come in handy before important battles.

The festive atmosphere was added to by Vasily Filippov when he came back into the game. Our Bard played the guitar and sang songs in Geckho about space, love and military campaigns. At a certain point he was joined by Grim Reaper as well — the German Sniper possessed a fantastic baritone and, I suspect, could have become a professional singer if he had chosen that for his earthly profession.

Taking advantage of the fact that my whole crew was on the frigate, I ordered the mobile Relict laboratory to make a random jump without the starship but stay inside the Solar System and hide, then not respond to anyone else and wait only for my command. The only one who noticed the disappearance of the laboratory in any way or understood my order was Gerd Urgeh Pu-Pu Urgeh the Technician:

“What, captain, don’t trust me?” the Relict inquired mentally. “Blocked remote control functions, moved the station to an unknown location...”

“You’re not the one I’m worried about. It’s just that too many in the galaxy thirst for that laboratory and would commit any crime in the book to get their hands on it. We’ll both feel more secure this way, believe me.”

A little while later, seizing a convenient opportunity, I took the Relict aside from the celebratory and noisy crowd.

“You looked very pensive when you came back. Would you mind telling me what you saw in the real world?”

The Technician looked at me with both of his huge soccer-ball sized eyes, spent a bit of time in silence then made up his mind:

“I was at the refuge. I reviewed its data on the dozens of tongs I missed while in stasis. I saw the war. It was the most terrible war one could ever imagine. I saw the worlds inhabited by intelligent races die out one after the next. I saw whole planets annihilated. I saw trillions of members of my race perish. I saw the Pyramid irretrievably lose strata of invaluable data that took centuries to accumulate. I saw the world as I knew it crumble.”

Psionic skill increased to level one hundred twenty-four!

The sense of limitless sorrow and despair emanating from the Technician just then was so great that my eyes faded just because I accidentally caught a hint of his emotions. I also saw ghastly scenes of underwater megalopolises going up in annihilating flames and felt outbursts of fear from their billions of intelligent creatures being transformed into nothingness. All that brought unbearable pain. I quickly stopped reading his thoughts and wiped the cold sweat from my brow. Once I’d somewhat caught my breath, I asked:

“Urgeh Pu, were there any survivors other than you?”

“Hundreds of thousands of virt pods stand empty. Endless rows of empty, open pods. I spent a few ummi strolling past the high towers of empty pods and just couldn’t look away from the ghastly spectacle of a demolished civilization. My civilization. But then I found a stem that contained operating virt pods. I counted four hundred twenty-three. I don’t know where their occupants are now, but they are alive and could potentially awaken at some point.”

Well, well! Very intriguing! I promised the Technician to expend as much effort as it took to get to the bottom of that and awaken his dormant compatriots. And I immediately asked Urgeh Pu how that ancient war had concluded.

“Captain, I do not know. The logs stop after the Syam Tro VII Refuge changed location to a random point in the Universe four hundred times in a row to evade detection by the flotillas of the Precursor punitive expeditions. And finally, when the artificial planetoid got them off its trail, power was cut to all instruments and communication with the outside world was stifled.”

Artificial planetoid? So, did that make the Refuge a large artificial satellite or a small planet? And by the way... I opened the proposal from the unknown monitoring program to join my faction, which I still had yet to answer. Yes, precisely! The message had come from none other than the Syam Tro VII Refuge. I asked the Technician to comment. The Relict wasn’t the least bit surprised.

“I activated the refuge’s monitoring program. I powered up several systems. Many of the refuge’s rooms are flooded, so I turned on the pumps. I activated the hydroponic farms, though I am not certain the seeds will still be viable after all these tongs. But I did see lots of invar in the water. At the very least I could hunt them for nourishment. And well, of course, I shared lots of information with the refuge’s artificial intelligence, telling it of my reawakening in the modern world. That is my duty now — to replenish the Pyramid with data. And by the looks of things, the monitoring program concluded that you are a promising potential ally and it should work with you.”

I see... Okay then. It could be quite the intriguing opportunity. I chose “Yes.”

ATTENTION!!! The Relict Faction’s player limit has not changed and is still 34,800.

That means the Syam Tro VII Refuge didn’t have any game nodes. But that didn’t matter. Its hundreds of thousands of free virt pods represented a huge interest to me and humanity as a whole regardless. It was not only an “emergency bunker” where no Miyelonians, Meleyephatians or anyone else could bother my people while they took a break from the game. It was also a path to some remote part of the Universe. And on top of that, it was a place that held ancient history and technologies of the Relict race.

Unfortunately, my conversation with the Technician stopped there — Gerd Uline Tar walked up to us grinning happily and seeming to be somewhat intoxicated:

“Gnat, I adore you!” the huge furry woman embraced me. “We’re doing the rounds on the galactic news again!”

I followed my tottering business partner into the main room. On the big screen, the anchor of the central Geckho news channel was reporting that the conflict between the fleets of the Trillian kingdom and the Meleyephatian Horde in the Taikhirhh-o-Tsykh system had ended with what we saw. The Trillian royal family had accepted an apology from the Meleyephatian ambassador and considered the incident settled.

* * *

IT WAS THE EASIEST time I ever had landing on a planet. Tamara the Paladin made a very smooth and even delicate atmospheric entry and, after cutting speed, descended to an elevation of a few miles. Then it changed stabilizer sweep and came in for a soft landing like an airplane on the spaceport’s concrete landing strip. For the record, until very recently there had not been a good concrete landing strip with signals and markers. It was just a barren patch of land with dry untended grass. But now, beyond the completed landing strip, I saw Geckho workers pouring concrete over a large area, clearly preparing the spaceport to accept heavy machinery. It was nice to see Earth’s spaceport being improved so extensively. And there were several times more starships and other kinds of aircraft as well.

Ten Shiamiru cargo shuttles. Two of them rented by my faction, the others were most likely transporting equipment for the planetary shield generators. I wasn’t too interested in the shuttles — it made perfect sense for them to be there. And I was just as unsurprised to see thirty Sio-Mi-Dori assault landing antigravs with camo paintjobs and Relict Faction emblems on their tail stabilizers. Yes, my First Advisor Mac-Peu Un-Roi the Mage Diviner told me he had come to an agreement to use the Geckho spaceport as my quickly growing faction’s main airbase.

Next to the cargo terminal, there was a huge unmoving Geckho container ship, which looked like a flattened droplet of water. Next to it was the passenger landing module of some luxurious interstellar liner. Well, well! On the silver side panel of the grounded craft, I saw the emblem of the Tar-Layneh clan of space merchants. Seemingly, my business partner’s relatives had already started arriving for the upcoming wedding between Gerd Uline Tar and Viceroy of Earth Kosta Dykhsh. There was another passenger starship parked next to the dispatcher tower as well. Next to it, the local border service’s little old Sindirovu fighter-interceptor looked utterly minute. Just a few months ago, I had admired this interceptor as a piece of high spacefaring technology. But now I understood just how outdated it actually was.

However, my attention was drawn by two handsome vehicles parked next to the farthest hangars — Tiopeo-Myhh II Miyelonian interceptors bearing the emblem of the Relict Faction. And right after I came down the gangway, I headed toward them accompanied by Uline Tar and a few other members of Team Gnat. Holy cow! These ships, which I had captured from pirates on Kasti-Utsh III, had really been given a quality repair job! There was nothing to remind you of the debacle at the station’s landing hangar, their crushed ailerons or the holes in their fuselages.

When we came near, their crews scurried out, got into formation and stood at attention outside their starships. Two crews of five. Pilots, Navigators, Technicians and Gunners at levels ranging from fifty to seventy, and all of them had the ashen gray skin of natives of the magocratic world.

First, the interceptor captains debriefed me. I meanwhile was thinking that this imbalance in favor of natives of the other world could easily turn into a serious problem. I was after all positioning the Relict Faction as one bringing together both versions of Earth, but natives of my world currently composed less than five percent of my faction. Perhaps that served as one of the factors that spooked the Human-3 Faction away from closer cooperation — Relict and myself were still associated with the hostile magocratic world and the so-called “Dark Faction.” I would have to take urgent measures to counteract that imbalance.

I just so happened to be examining my interceptors when suddenly my radio barked out. It was the dispatcher tower informing me that a diplomatic antigrav had arrived carrying the Viceroy of Earth, and he wanted to see me.

“Your fiancé is coming,” I informed Uline Tar, and the Trader shrieked in fear, running swiftly over to our starship to quickly primp.

Not even three minutes later, the Viceroy’s high-speed two-seat antigrav made a very tight turn in midair, started descending and landed just ten paces away from my group. While I tried to figure out how I should treat the Viceroy — technically not a prominent player, though the official Diplomat and representative of my suzerains — Kosta Dykhsh hopped out of the aircraft with uncharacteristic agility for his body type, walked over and gave me a brotherly pat on the shoulder with his heavy paw:

“Kento duho, Leng Gnat! Friend! How glad I am to see you! I was already starting to worry that my bride’s representative, and my chosen woman herself might arrive late to the wedding!”

“Kento duho, Kosta Dykhsh! Friend, we came as fast as we could! We probably even broke some speed records.”

For the first time, this representative of the suzerains, who usually tried to keep his distance from me, was calling me his friend and allowed me close and even intimate contact. Of course, I did not object. By Geckho standards, a friend is not just some pretty little word, but a truly select and trusted individual. And what’s more, a friend is always forever.

But the Viceroy did not come alone. And when seeing who he brought with him, a human woman, a few of the people in my group drew their weapons without a word. A second later, the Miyelonians followed their example, then the Geckho and even the Trillian.

“Anna, you are not welcome here! Leave!” Imran commanded strictly, his blaster trained on the Medic girl.

“She personally requested a meeting with Free Captain Leng Gnat...” Kosta Dykhsh was noticeably thrown off and even unpleasantly surprised by the cold reception his human companion received. “I was actually surprised by the degree to which Anna sought to cease all contact with her former faction until today.”

“The captain asked me to come,” the blond-haired “Anya from First Med” pointed at me as if there was nothing wrong.

Everyone looked at me, awaiting an explanation or order to eliminate the much-despised traitor. I noticed Dmitry Zheltov and Vasily Filippov’s fingers twitching on the triggers of the laser pistols they had trained at her. I then, after the initial shock had passed, activated the Scanning icon and... went down respectfully on one knee, lowering my head in a deep bow:

“It would be a massive honor for me to work with you, Kung Eesssa, the Betelgeuse Planet Devouress!”

Chapter Twenty-Four. The Army of Earth

––––––––

“IT’S BEEN A LONG TIME since anyone called me that...” surprise cut through in the blonde human’s voice along with wariness and readiness to take immediate action.

Danger Sense skill increased to level one hundred one!

Was that so? Despite the game’s precaution, I didn’t take aggressive action. In fact, I demonstrated peaceful intentions and sent both of the Small Relict Guard Drones spinning circles above me a bit higher. Anna looked down the barrels pointed at her and muttered out in dismay: “Vaa really did me a good turn when she gave me this image of a human girl. It would be hard to find a worse option.” A second went by, then another. Then Anya was replaced by Ayni the Miyelonian, looking exactingly at the original standing three steps away and correcting a few minor imperfections.

“Tailed one, I will wear your orange hide again. I feel comfortable in this form. I am accustomed to it,” false Ayni chuckled, very plausibly imitating the voice of the Miyelonian and paying no attention whatsoever to the bewilderment of the true tailed Translator.

For the record, I was not worried for the real Gerd Ayni — the orange Translator had interacted with Morphians before, and they had coexisted just fine. Ayni also had lots of problems with this specific Morphian, but I trusted the Miyelonian’s good sense. I couldn’t guarantee the other members of my crew would have such a calm reaction though, and I was most of all interested in the Trillians. And although the Gunner Gerd Ukh-Meemeesh reacted calmly and even indifferently to the coming of the Morphian, Amati-Kuis couldn’t resist when she saw this mortal enemy of Trillian-kind.

Telekinesis skill increased to level thirteen!

I did it! For the record, Fox did not need my help — the Morphian moved location instantly, just one foot — but that was all it took to get out of harm’s way. Then she nodded at me approvingly and looked curiously over the grouping of eight tiny poisoned blades, frozen two feet from where her head had been just a few seconds prior. She even picked up one of the throwing knives and gave the contact poison a cautious poke. She shook her head disparagingly, threw the dangerous item away and said something in Trillian to the Chef-Assassin. The real Gerd Ayni translated readily:

“This would never kill a high-level Morphian, especially in Miyelonian guise. I’ll teach you a more effective method later. But for now, kid, I suggest that you not test my reaction speed again — I am not always this calm and kindhearted. And I am very good at cracking Trillians out of their armor shells.”

I considered that a convenient opportunity to make an announcement:

“Allow me to introduce the combat training instructor for the coming army of Earth: Fox the Morphian, also known as Kung Eesssa, one of the deadliest creatures in the Universe. I do not imagine a more qualified instructor could ever be found in this galaxy. As for you, Fox, I have one thing I need you to do other than training soldiers. We can discuss it later, as well as your payment.”

Authority increased to 103!

The “Miyelonian” gave a predatory smirk, clearly flattered by the way I had introduced her, and even bowed to me.

“It’s always exciting to work with you, Gnat. With you around, one never knows what to expect day by day, and that adds some much-needed variety to my long life.”

* * *

WE ALL FLEW IN ONE Sio-Mi-Dori to the Desert node, which was next to the spaceport and where the training camps for the terrestrial army were already located. And it was some new modification of the assault-landing antigrav, different from the kind we were used to, with an expanded troop hold and a large number of laser cannons attached to its hull.

We were also dropping off another ten volunteers from the Human-3 Faction to the training camps so they wouldn’t have to make the eight miles on foot in the scorching desert heat, which was over 120 degrees Fahrenheit. Gunfighters, Machinegunners, Shocktroops. I didn’t know all these players — they had first entered the game after I made my second flight on the Shiamiru and started showing my face very rarely beneath the Dome. But they all knew me. And to them, Gnat and my companions Imran, Eduard Boyko, Gerd T’yu-Pan and the aliens from Team Gnat were true legends, impossibly distant stars.

Both Aynis were conferring quietly in the very tail of the troop hold and they were speaking a language I didn’t know, clearly chosen so nobody would understand them. But the Morphian and Miyelonian were speaking in a totally peaceful tone, so I wasn’t worried. I myself was talking with Gerd Valentina Koval — former head of the former Human-25 faction. I wanted to know the state of affairs in her node, my springboard to the large continent. And my new subordinate’s report gave me great hope:

“The thugs you sent on those antigravs chased the Orcs back beyond the snowy mountains, and that’s a whole three nodes. Now an area twenty miles in diameter around the scientific complex is completely secure, containing no aggressive NPC’s or high-level predatory creatures. The laboratory is back up and running. My scientists have already all switched faction to Relict. The warehouses and pier on the shore of the big river are also working, accepting cargo ships. There are forts under construction in all six neighboring nodes as Gerd Mac-Peu Un-Roi the Mage Diviner instructed. And tomorrow or at worst the day after, the Relict Faction will have an additional six level-one nodes, while the Laboratory node will be growing to level two.”

“What nationality are the scientists?” I asked and immediately guessed: “Mostly from the magocratic world, First Directory?”

“Not at all,” Valentina surprised me. “The old guard is practically all Russians who came with me from the H25 Faction. The newbies are primarily all Germans. The German authorities were very intrigued by the experiments we were conducting in the Laboratory node investigating how the game impacts the human genome. As such they have provided us an essentially unlimited supply of new players of whatever professions we choose.”

The human genome? So that was what the scientific faction was up to. Then why were they being so secretive? I asked that directly, but I didn’t get an answer — she just pointed to the nondisclosure agreement she had signed, which prevented her from talking to anyone not involved in their studies, even her faction head. And to the fact that the research was “strictly scientific in nature and hard to understand.” Just then, our Sio-Mi-Dori was nearing the big camp, surrounded by a high fence topped with barbed wire, so I simply read the information I wanted from Valentina’s thoughts. I must admit, it made my brows shoot up in surprise:

“Initial subject: studying the fast regeneration and curing of any disease provided by the game that bends reality. Six months of research showed no change in amino acid composition, nor their sequence in proteins. People remain the same as they were before the game, both while playing and after. However, clear changes were detected to the quaternary structure of human DNA associated with growth in level, statistics and skills. If we can understand the correlation there, we might be able to create characters of any level, with any statistics and any set of skills. The effect is very difficult to study. We don’t know what direction to come at it from. But there has been significant progress in other areas. We have created embryos in the laboratory for all possible hybrid races: half-human half-orc, half-human half-elf, half-human half-harpy, half-human half-dryad, half-orc half-centaur. And our research into splicing fragments of alien DNA into the human genome has yielded extremely intriguing results. We might be able to grow humans with wings, humans that can breathe underwater, humans with a very long lifespan. In theory even immortal humans.”

Yikes! I was not at all certain that such dangerous studies should be continued even though they could well usher in a totally new and fantastic epoch for humanity. But I still didn’t make any remarks on the thoughts I overheard, deciding to instead have a talk with Gerd Valentina Koval about that later, after consulting with my Chief Advisor and other specialists.

* * *

I CAUGHT MY CHIEF ADVISOR at the training camp conversing with quartermasters of various other factions. Gerd Mac-Peu Un-Roi the Mage Diviner was very happy to see me, stepped away and with clear pride at a job well done gave an immediate report on recruitment progress:

“Coruler Gnat La-Fin, we were able to get the news of the army draft out to all Earth factions through the Geckho. Kosta Dykhsh was a big help. Rumors have been swirling that the Viceroy’s future career depends directly on how successful we are at recruiting Humans into the Geckho army, so Kosta Dykhsh is being very fussy and sending representatives to every scattered nodes on the planet. To be honest, I took it upon myself to introduce a rule that factions with less than two hundred players are exempt — they need everyone they have, and their continued progress is more important than us getting a couple extra boots on the ground.”

My Chief Advisor fell silent, anxiously awaiting my reaction to his exception for small factions. But I agreed that it was reasonable — another couple soldiers wouldn’t change our situation, and new factions growing faster would pay big dividends in the future. Gerd Mac-Peu Un-Roi continued:

“With the exception of eight factions from the big continent, we have already received confirmation from every group that they will contribute forces to the army of Earth. And those eight factions meanwhile, which have dubbed themselves the ‘Terrestrial Coalition,’ yesterday told an emissary of the Viceroy that they would give their answer in two days’ time.”

The Mage-Diviner spent a second in silence, clearly looking at a countdown timer he had set and added:

“The Coalition has just thirteen hours left to respond. If they don’t agree — we’ll have to do something, probably either compel them by force or use our authority for pressure. But overall, for now we are exclusively taking detachments sent voluntarily, we haven’t forced anyone. Momentum is good, so we just might get enough with volunteers only. Here in the camps, there are six thousand soldiers from our Relict Faction already in training, plus fifteen hundred each from La-Taka and Human-3. We also have received confirmation from the La-Varrez and La-Shin factions — they promise to send five thousand and four thousand two hundred fully equipped soldiers respectively, however they have not yet given us a timeframe. I also know that the Geckho have sent out ships to ferry soldiers from the H0 and H4 Factions. That’s another twelve hundred Koreans and two thousand five hundred Japanese from your world, Coruler.”

Mac-Peu turned and pointed a hand at the long rows of dust-covered army trucks:

“This morning five thousand troops arrived from the Chinese H1 Faction. However, their level is obviously a bit weak, and some are just day-three beginners, level twenty. And that makes me wonder whether I should just send them back. In any case, they won’t be much help in a real battle. If we keep only those over level sixty, that leaves us with just two thousand one hundred Chinese players.”

I asked my advisor not to be too hasty rejecting the low-level recruits, and first to give me an estimate for how many soldiers we were expecting to join the army of Earth in the first wave. The Mage Diviner answered immediately, clearly having all the numbers in his head:

“We expect forty-two thousand seven hundred thirty players meeting our stated requirements from the factions that have agreed. We’ll probably end up with more in the end — the factions are growing every day, so there are more soldiers that meet the level requirements all the time. Plus as I already said, the Terrestrial Coalition hasn’t responded yet. And they are made up of powerful factions numbering over seventy thousand players in total. Although... even if those factions refuse, we can find plenty of recruits without them.”

I already had no doubt in our plan to recruit the first wave. But still I wanted to give a chance to the so-called “Terrestrial Coalition” not break with the other factions of both worlds. And if this “Coalition” did not give us a positive answer within thirteen hours, I would have to visit them in person and have a very serious talk with their leaders.

Chapter Twenty-Five. Shock Is How We Do Things!

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SUCH A MASSIVE backlog of diplomatic, administrative and housekeeping issues had amassed during my absence! Beneath a hastily assembled pole and straw canopy, I was talking with my Chief Advisor Gerd Mac-Peu Un-Roi and my faction Diplomat Leng Thomas Müller, who had also come to the training camp. This was the first time I’d gotten the chance to meet personally with the former head of the Human-6 Faction and I must note that the high-profile German player made a very positive impression. A professional with a capital “P,” he had acquired a wealth of knowledge in all kinds of fields of science and politics. He was generally intelligent and delicate but, when the need arose, he could turn extremely harsh in an instant, standing up for the interests of German players and our faction as a whole. It was very fortunate indeed that, when uniting our factions, we were able to maintain his high status — Leng Thomas could provide dignified representation at negotiations of any level.

A section of road ran past our pavilion, and thousands of soldiers of the fledgling army of Earth jogged past on it carrying heavy baskets of rocks on their shoulders under the watchful eye of their instructors. It just so happened to be a steep rise, and the sweaty soldiers were crawling at a snail’s pace, just barely able to move their legs. But still they were trying to smile and put on a bold face. The leader of my boarding team Gerd T’yu-Pan had announced that the best of the best would be accepted into Team Gnat, and that strongly encouraged the thousands of training troops. My crew was considered something of a military elite here, and every single soldier dreamed of entering its ranks.

Then a Chinese girl, a level-72 Medic, made a false step and fell on her way up, collapsing under the heft of the rocks and rolling down to the base of the hill. Gerd Nelly Svistunova of the First Legion, standing nearby and today playing the role of one of the fifty instructors, quickly leapt over to help. But she was stopped by a sharp cry over radio from the attentively observing Fox:

“Instructor 34, stand down! The Medic still has Endurance Points, she can get up on her own! Furthermore, her Strength just went up. Add a few more stones to her basket!”

I didn’t know how Fox was doing it, but the Morphian had split into at least a dozen copies and was present in several places at once, keeping a watchful eye on all the thousands of training soldiers at once and stepping in wherever and whenever necessary. The wise Vaa once told me that Morphians were capable of splitting and creating copies to distract an opponent. However, all the copies of false Ayni were fully-fledged individuals that could act independently.

Fox’s authority in the training camp was unquestioned. Especially when the instructor showed that she could take down any of the trainees, survive even a submachine gun burst to the chest, wouldn’t forgive even a hint of disobedience and treated rulebreakers as harshly as could be imagined. The row of human skulls and one Miyelonian one (my ward Tini once got the bright idea that he deserved an indulgence) up on the stockade fence near the canteen served a clear reminder of what arguing with Fox could get you.

Then Gerd Imran the Gladiator, who was exercising just as hard as everyone else, caught up to the Chinese girl having a hard time going up the hill. He grabbed her with one hand by the jacket and put her on her feet in one sharp burst then immediately continued running. My Dagestani friend had told me a few days ago that his Fame was getting very close to twenty-five, so the fact he had achieved Gerd rank came as no surprise. After the promotion, which actually came during this training session, and spending his additional statistic points, Fox demanded he put more stones into his basket. And he did so eagerly. But despite the Gladiator’s brave face, I could sense just how hard a time the Dagestani athlete was having. Regardless, Gerd Imran would sooner die than allow anyone to question his right to serve as Gnat’s personal bodyguard.

Only three people were not taking part in the training: me, Leng Thomas Müller the Diplomat, and Chief Advisor Gerd Mac-Peu Un-Roi. The three of us were busy doing something of equal importance: after laying out a detailed map of the virtual world on a rickety table, we were discussing plans for the future of our shared faction.

“A group of scouts reported that the only thing on the eastern shore of the bay past our southernmost node is solid impassable forest filled with NPC Centaurs and Dryads. If we hurry and stop our Human-3 neighbors from making a play for the south, we could take the whole peninsula for ourselves. And that would give us a whole twenty-three hexagons.”

MY CHIEF ADVISOR POINTED on the map, penciling a circle around the long, forested peninsula extending far into the sea then went silent, awaiting my reaction. I agreed eagerly:

“Yes, I have conferred with Leng Tarasov and we agreed where to expand so there wouldn’t be any conflicts. His faction will be expanding to the east, beyond the swamps,” I pointed to the hills three nodes beyond the Eastern Swamp, “that is where the Human-3 Faction will be building the second planetary shield generator. And beyond those swamps is also where Human-3 will start building an industrial cluster made up of a few neighboring nodes. The Human-3 Faction will make no claim on the nodes south of the Yellow Mountains for the time being, and we can indeed take them. However, either Leng Thomas or I will have to speak with Centaur mare Leng Phylira, so we don’t run into problems with the NPC Antiquity Faction. If the mare gives her consent, we will bring Sio-Mi-Dori antigravs and construction brigades to all twenty-three nodes, build forts at an accelerated pace and, in three days’ time, the whole peninsula will be ours.”

Gerd Mac-Peu took down a note in his tablet, then made a peevish remark:

“Twenty-three brigades, each thirty people minimum, and ideally forty, all of construction professions. Plus we’ll need security to protect against aggressive NPC predators... Where are we gonna get that many players, Coruler? Should we take them off the planetary shield construction? Or bring builders back from the big continent? There are seven whole groups there with enhanced security. Six hundred people in total.”

“No, no, the shield is our main priority. And there’s no need to bring players back halfway around the globe. It’s only a matter of time until we need our springboard to the other continent again.”

I considered it. It really was a problem. Relict was theoretically a big faction, but we had a severe lack of spare workers. We already needed thousands of players for the plants, factories, mines, science laboratories, and fields we already had and were planning, plus simply for maintaining roads and other infrastructure. Add to that the three enormous building projects we were undertaking at the same time: the planetary shield generator, the seaport, and the nascent thermonuclear power station. We were also establishing a base on the opposite side of the virtual Earth. And the cherry on top was that damned Geckho draft, which had taken a whole six thousand players from our ranks!

Seeing that the people in front of me were expecting their faction leader to comment, I suggested we replace some of the construction workers for the new bases with hired NPC’s. If we didn’t bring in the natives of these flooded impassable jungles, building everything we wanted would be a technical impossibility. Even getting construction resources was extremely difficult due to the lack of decent roads so, one way or another, we’d have to hire the centaurs and minotaurs to lay down some semblance of roadways.

“That will bring up the timeframe,” my Chief Advisor cautioned. “No matter how you look at it, primitive NPC’s are far from professional construction workers. And we’ll have to postpone expansion to the north and on the western side of the bay. At the very least until we finish constructing the bases to the south and can redeploy the freed-up players elsewhere.”

“Quite so, but there is currently just one desert node separating the Relict and Human-1 Factions,” Leng Thomas pointed to the grayish yellow hexagon. “And crucially, our geologists have determined that there are natural gas reserves in that node, the size of which they are now estimating. We have also detected Chinese scout groups in that node with geologists among them.”

The Mage Diviner shuddered and opened his tablet, comparing it with some notes:

“We need gas. We do not yet have access to any. Our petrochemical plants partially make up for that, but the key word there is ‘partially.’ And make no mistake, the H1 Faction is already aware of the natural gas as well. Coruler, shall we concentrate on capturing that node to snatch the gas deposits before the Chinese can get there?”

Both of them looked expectantly at me, awaiting their faction leader’s decision. I meanwhile drummed my fingers on the tabletop in thought. I didn’t want to have a dispute with the Chinese faction. So far, we had even-keeled good-neighborly relations and the fact they had sent a whole five thousand troops when I requested (given the Chinese faction as a whole numbered just eleven thousand players) spoke to a desire to actively help and take part in joint operations. I took another glance at the map and turned to look at the Diplomat:

“We need to have a talk with the Human-1 Faction and be totally open. Both of us need the gas, and I would be completely amenable to extracting it together. The question of who gets the claim to the node does of course matter, but its importance is secondary. I would even be willing to offer...” here I fell into deep contemplation, thinking through the potential consequences of this step. Then I turned to the Mage Diviner and asked, “what is the probability we could be united in an alliance, or even one single faction?”

Gerd Mac-Peu fell silent, then shook his head:

“Coruler, they will not agree to uniting into a single faction. But as for a military and political alliance, that could be possible but not now. In a month and a half, or more likely two. For the time being, they don’t trust us quite that much. At any rate, their level of trust is growing fast. And if we can prove that we are powerful and trustworthy, an alliance would be possible. But there is one little nuance...” The experienced diviner gave a signal to the Diplomat, and Leng Thomas Müller picked up the thread of the conversation:

“The Human-1 Faction has a border dispute over some islands in the ocean with the Human-2 Faction, which is the UK. There have even been sea battles and amphibious assaults by both parties in order to eliminate their competitor’s claim. The disputed territories are currently neutral — islands are just too tough to hold in the game. If we were to support our neighbors, H1 would become more loyal to us. However though, that would spoil our relations with the H2 Faction, which is already part of the Terrestrial Coalition. And that would be disastrous for our dealings with the whole family of Terrestrial Coalition factions.”

Based on my Diplomat’s concerned tone, I could already tell that Leng Thomas himself didn’t like the idea of interfering in that conflict. And I was in complete solidarity with him there. Getting in the middle of a turf war was never a super sensible idea, especially when you have a wide array of labor intensive projects requiring thousands of players, and another war you’ll have to send the bulk of your soldiers to sooner rather than later.

I didn’t answer fast enough. A quickly crescendoing alarm siren interrupted us. I shot to my feet and saw a group of figure-eight aircraft far on the horizon but quickly approaching from the direction of the space port. Seven... No, eight tiltrotors or helicopters of an extremely unusual design. I lowered the IR Lens over my eye and read the information about the flying objects:

Sio-Titi-Ru. La-Varrez Faction Heavy Cargo Tiltrotor.

La-Varrez? I had very strained relations with the former head of that faction. The great Archmage and Coruler of Humanity Onuri-Unta La-Varrez had even tried to get me deposed. Unsuccessfully, for the record, and he himself had died in the explosion of the Palace of Rulers along with a large contingent of the most powerful sorcerers of the magocratic world. Who now headed that most ancient dynasty of mage rulers, I had to admit, I did not know.

What is happening? Are my enemies attacking the training camps for the army of Earth, which is being mustered on orders from our Geckho rulers? Not likely. That would after all be nothing short of suicide — the Geckho would never forgive such a thing from their vassals. And on top of that, despite all our differences of opinion, our Directories were not at war in the real world, nor were our factions here in the game. Furthermore, behind those tiltrotors were a whole thirty Sio-Mi-Dori assault-landing antigravs, and their laser cannons were not aimed our way.

Eagle Eye skill increased to level one hundred one!

Then the aircraft landed on a patch of barren ground, throwing up clouds of dust. And troops from the magocratic world started piling out of the tiltrotor wearing infantry packs and holstered weaponry. Seemingly, it was not at all like I feared and was in fact wonderful news — the La-Varrez Faction had sent its players to join the united army of humanity! By the way, there were also La-Varrez Faction players piling out of my antigravs — they must have asked if we could bring them from the training camps from the spaceport and given assurances they came in peace in the presence of the Geckho Diplomat.

And just then I saw one of the newly arrived commanders — a young man stepped with dignity out of one of the tiltrotors dressed in the traditional robes of the highest mage rulers:

Leng Sap-Po La-Varrez. Human. La-Varrez Faction. Level-104 Telekinetic Mage.

Well, well! A Leng, the faction head himself! A truly special guest.

“Coruler, the new head of the La-Varrez dynasty has not yet been officially confirmed,” my Chief Advisor whispered to me, quite familiar with the state of affairs in his world. “First of all, the official mourning period for the late Coruler Archmage Onuri-Unta is still ongoing. Second, your spouse Princess Minn-O and you still have yet to confirm the composition of the Ruling Council. And dynasty heads are not considered ‘true’ rulers until they’ve been officially inducted into the council. And third, there are other claimants to the role of dynasty head other than young Sap-Po. They are currently in the middle of a vicious power struggle. The antimage uprising is having an effect as well.”

There it is! The situation was coming together very favorably, and I could play on that. While my distinguished guest assembled his retinue from the various vehicles they’d arrived in, and before he had spotted me, I called over the closest of the Fox copies. I mentally told the Morphian that the time had come for her to play the role I had actually summoned her to play. We had already gone over all the details of the form I required back when we discussed her work and pay. Furthermore, Fox had seen this human in person when visiting Earth the last time. A moment later, the entity standing behind me had transformed into Tamara the girl paladin dressed in a modest frock, right down to her totally unexpressive face and dark eyes that pierce a person straight through.

“Good, Fox. But Tamara is now a Leng, not a Gerd. And bring up her level in the description, let’s say to one twenty,” I gave the Morphian some adjustments and she instantly took my wishes into account.

Accompanied by senior officers, mages of varying specializations and Viceroy Kosta Dykhsh, the new head of the La-Varrez Faction came walking in my direction. I meanwhile already had a no less respectable retinue in formation behind me. Ten officers and mages headed by Gerd Mac-Peu Un-Roi. My personal bodyguard Gerd Imran. My personal assistant the Miyelonian Gerd Ayni Uri-Miayuu (the real one). A bearded, brutish level-80 Priest wearing a habit and holding an incense burner (a very reasonable precaution when dealing with mages, while your Paladin is no Paladin at all). And at my right hand... drumroll please... the leader of the antimage uprising Leng Tamara the Paladin!!!

Chapter Twenty-Six. An Offer that Cannot be Refused

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EVERYTHING OUR GUEST had been preparing to say flew right out of his head. He just cracked open his mouth in surprise, then closed it and squeezed out indignantly through tightly pursed lips:

“I hope, Coruler Leng Gnat La-Fin, that you can explain that monster’s presence in your retinue.”

He was speaking the language of the magocratic world and, thus, not everyone present could understand him. Nevertheless, I gave a happy chuckle, satisfied with the effect I’d produced. I replied in the same language, changing out my Null Ring for the +3 Intelligence one as I did:

“First of all, esteemed Leng Sap-Po La-Varrez, I am no longer a Leng, but a Kung — a ‘leader of many divisions’ in the nomenclature of the game that bends reality. The heads of Earth’s factions trust me to command their troops, and some have gone so far as to swear fealty to or even join my Relict Faction.”

Authority increased to 104!

Authority increased to 105!

Gerd Ayni the Translator relayed my message in Geckho. It was news to many that heard it, so I wasn’t the least bit surprised by the Authority jumps and continued my speech:

“Second,” I turned to “Tamara,” still just as severe and tense as she watched the oncoming mages, “Tamara is endlessly loyal to me and her presence here is surely warranted. And no need to cringe. You have much to learn about the nature of the so-called ‘antimage uprising’ and its true puppet masters. No, no. It is neither myself nor Leng Tamara as you might have thought. It is other people, and they are figures you know very well. I’m sure that, in less than half an hour’s time, you yourself will be sincerely delighted to have Tamara the Paladin here by your side.”

The young faction head was obviously flummoxed and even looked around at his companions in search of support and advice. But all members of his retinue just looked away or shrugged their shoulders, not understanding what I was driving at. Then Leng Sap-Po La-Varrez scowled and found the resolve to reply menacingly and dramatically:

“I will never forgive this terrorist! She murdered my grandfather the great Archmage and Coruler of Humanity Onuri-Unta La-Varrez! She murdered my older brother, mage ruler Tim-Pa La-Varrez, and another twenty of my relatives. And so, my sole desire is to shoot this bloodstained little terrorist right where she stands!”

Before Ayni the Miyelonian translated that, Fox whispered to me:

“A sense of mind-clouding hatred is emanating from that man. Leng Sap-Po La-Varrez is utterly incapable of listening to reason right now. Should we perhaps just let him spew out all his malice? That will make him more talkative in short order.”

I understood what the Morphian was suggesting and asked her to walk up closer to the seething young mage. The first step Tamara took made the whole La-Varrez Faction delegation noticeably tense, while the faction head went so far as to clutch a laser pistol taken from his inventory. Honestly, I found that pretty amusing. I mean, what kind of mage involuntarily reaches for a firearm in a dangerous situation instead of using hexes? It was immediately clear why my guest, despite the antiquity of his dynasty and his close relationship to the former Coruler of Humanity, was not in the Palace of Rulers for the bombing — his magical abilities must have been pretty underdeveloped.

In theory, I didn’t have to keep being so cunning. I could simply take control of his mind and plant whatever thoughts I wanted. But Fox was right — he was a mess and I needed to just let him spew out his pent-up emotions. Meanwhile, “Tamara” walked right up to the Telekinetic Mage and stopped a pace away, then said in Geckho:

“Shoot me, young Leng, you have my permission! You said it yourself. It’s what you want! Maybe once you’ve spewed out all your burning emotions and emptied your pistol battery into me, you’ll settle down and listen to what my master has to say.”

Leng Sap-Po La-Varrez again turned to his companions, then looked at me flustered. I even started to think he might back down and holster his pistol. But no. By all appearances, hatred really was overflowing from the young mage. A bright flash flickered; the laser beam pierced through “Tamara’s” body. The medium-height dark-haired girl looked down at the smoking hole in her chest with curiosity and... smiled back at the shooter:

“What are you waiting for? Shoot me again! As you can see, I’m still alive!”

Leng Sap-Po La-Varrez looked shaken and shot a second time. Then a third. Then a whole burst of laser pulses pierced the girl’s body straight through. Tamara then stayed on her feet, calmly observing all the new holes in her dress and making the odd comment about the best shots:

“That’s right, aim right at my heart! And shoot through my head too, let your rage come spewing out! Yeah, double tap to make sure. Heck, make it a triple. What, is your pistol battery dead? Here, take mine! Or would you like me to give you my blaster? It’ll be a bit more powerful.”

The shaken mage just shook his head “no,” declining the hated little terrorist’s offer. The shooter’s hands were quaking, tears welled up in his eyes. Then the young faction head threw his useless pistol aside and asked the swiss-cheesed girl:

“How... How are you doing that?! It isn’t possible to survive wounds like that! It’s an illusion, right? Am I actually hitting you?”

Tamara, whose bodily wounds quickly healed over (for the record, the biggest gaping holes and still smoking “clothing” had not yet been repaired by the Morphian, obviously intentionally), explained eagerly:

“High Constitution. High level. Lots of Hitpoints. My class reduces damage received. High regeneration. It’s hard to kill me with light arms. I didn’t even die in the explosion of the Palace of Rulers.”

“Of course you escaped. You orchestrated the attack!” the young mage again started to boil over, to which Tamara gave a reasoned objection:

“That was my second day in your world. I didn’t understand a single word of your language. Minn-O La-Fin took me with her to the meeting exclusively due to my ability to block mental magic. Furthermore, my adoptive father perished in the blast. Do you think I would ever purposely kill someone so close to me? And really, where would I have gotten the explosives? Everyone was given a full-body search by palace security at the entrance!”

Fox was playing Tamara superbly! The Morphian had my mental hints but was also improvising constantly and saying exactly what her counterpart’s mind was unwittingly telling her would have the greatest effect. I could feel the young mage’s armor of hatred start to split and show cracks of doubt. Some might say we tricked the Telekinetic Mage. And maybe that was so. But technically everything “Tamara” said was the truth.

I also saw the Morphian masterfully adapting to Sap-Po’s tastes. Almost invisibly to the naked eye, cautiously and gradually, her hair grew a bit shorter and started to slightly curl. Her face grew rounder and her eyes kinder. And as for her “clothing,” it was slowly withering away to cover less and less of her body. My heart aflutter, I was afraid to intervene in the Morphian’s challenging creative process. But Fox clearly knew what she was doing. The head of the La-Varrez Faction now looked at her without his former hostility and in fact with some measure of curiosity. Finally, Leng Sap-Po La-Varrez apologized for his lack of restraint and instructed one of his attendant mages to share his robe with the wounded girl paladin so she could cover up.

“I admit, I was wrong. But now, Kung Gnat La-Fin, I would like to know who was actually behind the uprising.”

* * *

ALRIGHT, FOX PLAYED her part brilliantly. Now it was my turn to build on that success. All members of the young mage’s retinue turned their attention toward me, greedily soaking up my every word. I forewarned them that I was only voicing my perspective and not claiming it was the absolute truth, then told them what I personally knew about the antimage uprising. That representatives of Emancipation from Mage Tyranny had contacted the Human-3 Faction before Tamara crossed over into the magocratic world. And that acts of terrorism targeting mages had been committed long before the game that bends reality linked our worlds together. As a matter of fact, both parents of my spouse Princess Minn-O had died twenty years ago in a gruesome act of terror committed by individuals professing a fanatic hatred of people with magical abilities. And so connecting me, Tamara or anyone else from our world with their long-standing issue was a fundamental mistake.

I also told them that the monetary crystals H3 handed off to representatives of Emancipation from Mage Tyranny had unexpectedly surfaced in the coffers of the La-Fin Faction and were used by the leadership of that faction in service of their military and political aims. That both of Princess Minn-O’s grandfathers — Coruler of Humanity Leng Thumor-Anhu La-Fin and his right hand man Gerd Avir-Syn La-Pirez — plus another whole group of trusted mage rulers of the La-Fin Faction were perfectly aware of these contacts with Emancipation from Mage Tyranny, and had most likely even acted as their representatives for the in-game talks. But most surprising was that, after Archmage Thumor-Anhu La-Fin’s untimely demise, a whole group of mage rulers headed by Gerd Avir-Syn La-Pirez had flipped to the La-Varrez Faction and was accepted with grace its head. And after that, Emancipation from Mage Tyranny carried on like nothing had happened.

The head of the La-Varrez Faction cut me off, inquiring with obvious dismay in his voice:

“Coruler Gnat La-Fin, are you implying that my grandfather the Archmage and Coruler of Humanity Onuri-Unta La-Varrez was in contact with terrorists?”

With great effort, I kept the frustration from showing on my face. Even more confirmation that this man’s low position in the line of succession to the title of mage ruler was far from coincidence! But I didn’t make any remarks on his lack of acumen.

“No, esteemed Leng Sap-Po. I am saying something else entirely. Back when I first found out about the political structure of the magocratic world, my biggest question was: how had something with such shaky foundations managed to stand for so long?! After all, it would only take one good shove for the mage rulers to be swept away by the seething masses beneath them. And given the ever-growing ratio of normal humans to sorcerers, maintaining the old political structure was getting harder all the time. The example of General Ui-Taka, a ruler with no magical abilities, coming to power in the Second Directory is but one glaring example that illustrates the fact that the old political system was in its final days and its fall was inevitable. The wisest sorcerers of the magocratic world had seemingly also given that problem some consideration. And they found a way out!”

“What might that be?” the young mage asked. And I was eager to answer:

“A managed revolution! The emergence of the so-called Emancipation from Mage Tyranny. A rebellion against the old magocratic system. A reformatting of the old laws. The task of the entrenched elite was to make the people get behind their new leaders, who in fact would be nothing more than obedient foot soldiers of the old ones, carrying out the will of the mage rulers. That process, fairly painless in comparison with a typical revolution, would transform the age-old political system into something different. The mage rulers would appear to be yielding power but would actually remain in control behind the scenes for centuries to come.”

Psionic skill increased to level one hundred twenty-five!

Mental Fortitude skill increased to level one hundred twenty-one!

Mysticism skill increased to level seventy!

I fell silent, giving my audience time to think through and digest what I said. And I myself just needed a little breather, because I had made a big outpouring of Magic Points, dumping them into my message until I had almost nothing left. No, I wasn’t even slightly lying (concealing the truth from psionic mages was never easy and often a hopeless endeavor). Everything could actually have been the way I said. I had just lent a little credence to some of the slipperier aspects with mental suggestion so my audience would have an easier time believing them. For the time being, no one had any questions or objections.

Finally, after the short breather I continued:

“Of course, there are actual terrorists and Emancipation from Mage Tyranny itself does exist. The blast in the Palace of Rulers was clear evidence of that. Without a doubt, the terrorists were intending to wipe out all the mage rulers in one fell swoop. And at that, whether or not the perpetrators were aware that they were taking out their handlers along with the other despised mages no longer matters. What does matter is that the fearsome act of terror was committed and served as the spark that the mass rebellion into motion. But the mage rulers who should have been monitoring and managing the uprising were already dead. Practically all the mage rulers died. It’s a miracle my wife Princess Minn-O and Chief Advisor Gerd Mac-Peu survived. And that was only because the Princess finished her speech early. But their servants who were packing up and removing their gear were not so lucky. They never made it out of the Palace of Rulers. And the fact that Tamara the Paladin survived the explosion should come as no surprise — you just saw how hard she is to kill.”

Psionic skill increased to level one hundred twenty-six!

This was the slipperiest part of my tale, and I put extra effort into the psychological pressure. No one had any doubts. Even Chief Advisor Gerd Mac-Peu, who was present for all the events I’d just recounted, was willing to accept that revised version of history. He only shuddered with realization a few seconds later. He even had to shake his head to drive off the delusion.

“You beat it, great job!” I praised my companion.

When the Mage Diviner looked at me, I could read nearly superstitious fear in his eyes. Gerd Mac-Peu did not suspect his boss was capable of that and was now trying to guess whether all his memories were real. Had some of them been planted artificially? But I was planning to speak with my advisor about that later to reassure him. For now, it was important for me to lead them to the thing I was preparing them for:

“When Tamara survived the explosion, she was immediately made a scapegoat, accused of masterminding the attack if not of being the supreme leader of Emancipation from Mage Tyranny. It was very easy to do, because the Paladin had never hidden her hostile attitude toward mages — she had old scores to settle dating back to her time in the Human-3 Faction. Tamara was in fact unaware she had been anointed a symbol of the uprising, or that fanatic rebels were going into battle with her name on their lips. As new head of the First Directory, I saw certain advantages in all that. And thus I even invited the Second Legion into the magocratic world — the band of troops Tamara the Paladin herself once commanded. In her speeches, the girl Paladin will that her troops are guarding important sites, which the rebels must not attack under any circumstances.”

“Would it be possible to invite a few Second Legion to the Fourth Directory and have Tamara mark my summer palace as a restricted target?” the La-Varrez Faction head asked his question with a cheery little smirk, as if he was joking. However, I could tell the situation was actually very serious. There must have been some alarming incidents at his palace. By the way... I looked at the time and remarked:

“Our meeting began just seventeen minutes ago, and you are now sincerely glad to have Leng Tamara here and are even prepared to work with her. Just as I promised, Leng Sap-Po.”

The members of the young mage’s retinue shuddered and started exchanging glances and whispers. Seemingly, they were themselves surprised by the ease with which they had been convinced to change their views diametrically. I then continued to smash all their preconceived notions about the goings on in the magocratic world:

“I ordered the video clips the rebels broadcast not to be called into question under any circumstances. And in them Tamara supposedly calls for total war against the mages. But you have now seen for yourselves that my friend doesn’t even speak the language of the magocratic world and could never have made those clips. But I say let the insurgents continue to slap together their videos with computer graphics, let them be broadcast everywhere on your planet. We’ll wait until everyone in your world is firmly convinced that Tamara is the chief ideologue and leader of the antimage uprising. And then...”

I stopped my speech midsentence and gave a pointed smile, telling my audience to fill in the blanks. A few seconds passed in silence, and a previously silent gray-haired and wrinkled woman stepped out in front, a level-89 Mage Diviner from the retinue of Leng Sap-Po La-Varrez. I must admit, I hadn’t taken a good look at her until she got involved but I quickly noticed several physical features she shared with the young faction head. She must have been his mother! No... not mother, more like grandmother. When she started to speak, the latter guess was fully confirmed:

“I see great wisdom in the young ruler of the First Directory. So great in fact that even my late husband Coruler Onuri-Unta La-Varrez would have held you in high esteem. Yes, everything Kung Gnat said is the truth. Of course, not all the rebels will agree to stand down when the leader of the uprising comes forward. The most implacable and especially those with the most blood on their hands will have to be taken down. But they will not be many. The rest will obediently lay down their weapons if a new political system they consider acceptable is on the table. Does Kung Gnat La-Fin already have some idea of what to offer the insurgents?”

“Certainly,” I bowed easily to the old magess, showing my respect for her insight. “I wanted to hammer out the details with the leaders of the most influential mage dynasties, but the basic scheme will look like this: a parliament consisting of two houses — a lower and an upper. The lower will be elected from among the wisest and most influential members of the nonmagical population. They will be tasked with, among other things, solving all manner of day-to-day issues and drafting the bills which will become the laws all thirty Directories will live by. The upper house then is to be made up of mage rulers. After all, the ancient precepts stipulate: ‘Common rabble, ignorant of the art of charms, may never be equal to the wizarding kind.’“

Authority increased to 106!

Before I’d even finished, I felt a sense of relief and approval from my audience, grateful I was not planning to violate the fundamental laws of the magocratic world.

“... then the mage rulers, two to three from each Directory, will have the right to block or approve any of the bills the lower house sends up to them. Something like that exists in my world in varying forms and it has proven a fairly workable system for, in some cases, centuries. And presiding over all that...” here I hesitated for a second and decided to reign in my ambitions, “there will be three corulers, just like now. I will appoint the other two very soon from among the most ancient and mighty dynasties of mage rulers. In theory, I would like to offer the role of one of humanity’s corulers to a member of the La-Varrez dynasty. Either Leng Sap-Po, or some other no less renowned and esteemed member of his ancient dynasty. My selection criterion will be loyalty and complete submission to me as the Kung of humankind in all issues not connected with governing their own Directory: constructing defenses, policies relating to other factions of the magocratic and technocratic worlds, external affairs and the defense of our home planet.”

I fell silent, giving my guests time to digest what I’d said, then made a step toward the leader of the La-Varrez Faction:

“And now, Leng Sap-Po La-Varrez, I will ask you a question to which I expect an immediate response. Do you agree to become Coruler of Humanity under those conditions? Or shall I turn my eye to one of your other numerous relatives?”

The young mage didn’t respond right away, and in fact considered it. That made his old grandmother trample all over established norms and her grandson’s authority, walk up and give him a booming and insulting slap to the back of the head:

“Say yes, you moron! This kind of chance only comes once in a lifetime, and you’re lucky it came to you! Would you rather give up the throne to your sister?”

By all appearances, the young faction head experienced a very serious blow to his Authority because, a few seconds later, the man standing before me was no longer a Leng:

Gerd Sap-Po La-Varrez. Human. La-Varrez Faction. Level-104 Telekinetic Mage.

That hardly could have all been because of his grandma’s slap. By all appearances, the faction head’s indecision had irked many members of his retinue. Only after that rather unpleasant lesson did the Telekinetic Mage make up his mind and, getting down on one knee, pronounce distinctly and loudly:

“I pledge my allegiance to my Kung, Gnat La-Fin, both in the virtual game and the real world!”

Chapter Twenty-Seven. Ultimatum

––––––––

THAT WAS BEYOND all doubt a grand political victory. I had successfully coaxed the La-Varrez dynasty of mage rulers onto my side. They were one of the most ancient and mighty houses and furthermore had previously had quite the unamicable opinion of the La-Fins. And although I could sense that the dynasty was now seriously diminished and depleted since its strongest members perished in the Palace of Rulers, their historic domain of the Fourth Directory remained one of the richest and most powerful states militarily. And while in the virtual world the main La-Varrez Faction had just fourteen thousand players, they had approximately ten thousand more scattered between smaller vassal factions.

I decided to build on my diplomatic success and take it to the level of in-game laws. After opening the faction management menu, I sent Gerd Sap-Po La-Varrez an offer to conclude an alliance. A few seconds later, I received a positive response:

ATTENTION!!! The leader of the La-Varrez Faction, Gerd Sap-Po La-Varrez has accepted your offer to conclude a military and political alliance. The leader of the alliance shall be Kung Gnat as the player with the highest Fame and Authority figures. Alliance members: 2 of a possible 8.

ATTENTION!!! Your alliance must have a name. Suggested options: “Gnat’s Alliance,” “Magocratic Alliance,” “First Earth Alliance,” “Army of Earth,” “RELICT Alliance.”

Pretty sparse offering from the game system... No, I was obviously not going to pick the pompous “Gnat’s Alliance.” Or “Magocratic Alliance,” because I was not planning to limit my alliance to the factions of the magocratic world. “RELICT Alliance?” I liked the name but I was afraid that the people of my planet would need too much explanation before they could understand what the Relicts even were, much less why a human alliance should bear the name of a different galactic race. Okay then, let’s call the alliance “Army of Earth.” Simple and to the point.

Authority increased to 107!

No one had any objections to that. After that, the La-Varrez Faction delegation bid us adieu and set off back home in their tiltrotors, leaving around eight hundred troops for the army of Earth at the training camp and promising to bring another four thousand five hundred in the next couple days in five or six batches. Right before leaving, the old Mage Diviner woman found an opportunity and told me something mysterious in private:

“Kung Gnat La-Fin, let me advise you right now that our understandings will remain in force even if the La-Varrez Faction changes leader.”

I didn’t pry and just nodded in confirmation. However, the old magess’ words could be taken in a few different ways. Either the internal struggle for the position of La-Varrez Faction head wasn’t yet concluded, and thus it would be possible for the faction to change leader in the game. Or the speech the current faction head had just given had been deemed unsatisfactory, and thus his disenchanted relatives were considering swapping him out.

Just after the important guests departed, leaving Viceroy of Earth Kosta Dykhsh with me at the training camp, the Geckho Diplomat pulled me aside and gave me an approving pat on the shoulder with his heavy furry paw:

“Well, Gnat my friend, congratulations on the promotion! I remember back when we first met, and you caught my attention. You had just plopped out of the Labyrinth next to my hut all bloodied, unarmed and barely clothed. Plenty of new Human players had done that before you, but still you stood out. Your gameplay is quite sophisticated, never sticking to established templates. Intense, reckless, with no regard for authority figures. Way back then, I said that was exactly how the game should be played. And look how right I was — you’re a Kung already! And now where are the ‘eminent and wise directors’ that were trying to teach you lessons and constantly trying to straighten you up? They are no more!”

I took a look around and, after making certain that no one was listening, I asked a question I had long been meaning to ask a representative of the suzerains:

“By the way, speaking of those old directors... Viceroy Kosta Dykhsh, that is already ancient history. The situation has changed drastically a hundred times, but nevertheless... Which director of the Human-3 Faction was secretly working for the Dark Faction? I am positive you know the answer to that question. Was it Ivan Lozovsky?”

The dark orange Geckho bristled out his thick fur and rumbled in dismay, boring into me with his big black eyes. I could sense distinctly just how much Kosta Dykhsh did not want to answer that question and rehash bygone times. But then the Viceroy suddenly made up his mind and offered:

“Okay, I’ll reply as a gesture of friendship. But Kung Gnat, you will also be obliged to do me a friendly little favor. Nothing criminal, nothing against the rules. Nothing that will reflect negatively on your reputation. Just a little help for a good friend. Does that work?”

I gave a cautious nod, agreeing to the fairly vague understandings.

“No, it was not Ivan. The traitor was actually Leng Radugin. I think he broke during the uncompromising confrontation with your powerful enemy when he couldn’t see any winning strategies. I was at the negotiations between them as an observer of the suzerains. Your then-leader begged Leng Thumor-Anhu for peace or at the very least mercy for the vanquished after what he expected to be the speedy conclusion of your military conflict. He wasn’t asking for his own sake so much as for the rest of the H3 Faction. It was at that very moment when he agreed to share classified information.”

Oh wow... The scattered pieces of the puzzle finally came together. Our imprisoned rank-and-file troopers hadn’t been recruited as spies at all! Every Human-3 Faction player who had been captured was scoured for signs of working for the enemy. But the faction head could have easily been conducting direct negotiations without arousing suspicion. Now I could understand the Dark Faction’s astonishing awareness of the goings on in our nodes. And I had an explanation for the nervous breakdown that led to Leng Radugin’s loss of authority and position as faction head. Meanwhile, his serious mental and physical health problems were considered grave enough to get him out of all kinds of tests including the lie detector.

“Ivan Lozovsky is not without sin, of course,” Kosta Dykhsh interrupted my contemplation. “Your Diplomat dealt in contraband, running his own little side hustle with space port management. He also promoted his own proteges to every important post, as all politicians do. At a certain point he tried pressuring you in various ways because he saw you as a serious competitor for power. But despite all his flaws, Ivan always remained loyal to the Human-3 Faction and bent over backwards to help them through very difficult times. Believe me Gnat my friend, I know what I’m talking about. Ivan Lozovsky sometimes acted outside the rules, and often made important decisions without consulting the curators. But isn’t that exactly the way you acted?”

The big huge Geckho took a heavy sigh, fell silent thoughtfully and continued:

“Anyhow Kung Gnat, the favor I want to ask you just so happens to pertain to Ivan Lozovsky. I consider Ivan a friend, and so it pains me to see him all but barred from the game. For the last few days, Ivan has spent just half an ummi in the game, and he was under close observation by an assigned guard detail the whole time. The new H3 leadership is afraid that their former leader will escape to join one of the other Earth factions. Of course, I could simply take matters into my own hands and order that Ivan Lozovsky be given more time. I could also announce that my friend Ivan is officially invited to my and Uline Tar’s wedding as a guest of honor. By the way, the wedding is the day after tomorrow. And you’re also invited, Gnat my friend. Yes, Ivan would then be given more game time, and be allowed to attend my wedding. But your people would continue to think of him as a player who did something wrong. And so I ask you, as the Kung of humanity to have a talk with Leng Tarasov and his leaders. Find the right words to help Ivan Lozovsky out. I am certain that such a remarkable player and capable Diplomat will come in handy for you yet.”

Okay then, quite a reasonable request. I promised the Viceroy of Earth that I’d have a talk with the leadership of the Human-3 Faction and take a hand in the disgraced Diplomat’s fate. Kosta Dykhsh gave me another pat on the shoulder with his heavy paw and said:

“Today Kung Waid Shishish demanded I make a report on the state of the human player draft on Earth for his Third Strike Fleet. The commander is planning a big offensive and will require troops for a space landing operation and subsequent mop-up. Very many troops. I trust, Leng Gnat, that everything is going according to plan and the army will be mustered in good time.”

I started to assure the Viceroy that everything was fine, and the fifty thousand troops would be ready on schedule. But then, in full accordance with Murphy’s law, Tini ran up. After first apologizing for interrupting an important conversation with the Viceroy, the Miyelonian youth conveyed an urgent message from my Diplomat:

“Master Gnat, Leng Thomas asked me to bring you the Terrestrial Coalition’s response. The members of the Coalition are willing to provide troops for the burgeoning army of Earth, but only if the entire army can be led by their generals. If not, the Coalition refuses to contribute to the draft and will make their own arrangements with the Geckho. The Terrestrial Coalition expects a response to its ultimatum within one day.”

What horrible timing! Kosta Dykhsh shook his huge furry head in reproach as if to say, “it isn’t good to deceive a representative of your suzerains and try to hide your recruitment problems.”

Authority reduced to 106!

I had to assure the Viceroy that I predicted stunts like this from several Earth factions and we had accounted for them in our draft plans and would be able to get together plenty of troops even without the Terrestrial Coalition. Kosta Dykhsh looked at me doubtfully, then said strictly:

“Look here, Kung Gnat. We’re both going to get a serious talking to if Krong Daveyesh-Pir’s mission cannot be completed. And though the Terrestrial Coalition does have conditions, they are willing to provide troops, so I see no reason for the suzerains to impose punitive measures. The Geckho will not interfere in the interrelations of their vassals. Ancient law forbids it. You may do as you like, but the great Krong of my race has assigned you a mission and it must be completed! Either with the Terrestrial Coalition’s troops or without them, the fifty thousand soldiers have to be ready in time! I then will tell the commander of the Third Strike Fleet Kung Waid Shishish that everything is going according to plan and, in fourteen days, he can send ships to pick up your troops.”

I said farewell to the Viceroy, he flew off to his residence, then I went to look for my Chief Advisor in a none-too-enthusiastic mood. I recounted to Gerd Mac-Peu Un-Roi the contents of my talk with the Viceroy in general terms, as well as the Terrestrial Coalition’s ultimatum.

“What shall we do, Coruler?” the Mage Diviner enquired.

“Hmm, hmm... it isn’t really clear,” I muttered in dismay. “We’ll keep the low-level Chinese players because Fox can easily whip them into shape in two weeks’ time. And we’ll get all the troops we need from other loyal factions, so we won’t have to cater to the Coalition’s whims. Well and,” here I bared my teeth predatorily, “we’ll have to inform them that that is no way to treat the Kung of Earth. For starters we’ll impose a complete embargo on all space imports going to the Terrestrial Coalition, announce that members of its factions are barred from visiting the space port and limit their contact with the Geckho to a minimum. We can instruct the spaceport services to put a hold on the entire flow of shipments going to or from the Terrestrial Coalition as well. I will have a talk with a few Geckho, and I’m sure we’ll find mutual understanding easily. Same goes for the cargo ships. From now on, Geckho ships will only visit the Coalition to collect tribute, but any trade will be prohibited. And all the Coalition’s spacecraft, if they manage obtain such a thing, are to be shot down by our interceptors. The Terrestrial Coalition wanted to say with their ultimatum that they could deal with the Geckho without us? Splendid! Let them demonstrate that in practice and prove that they are capable of something greater than empty, totally unfounded words!”

* * *

BY EVENING, A COLUMN of La-Shin Faction troops was marching away from the space port, the whole four thousand two hundred they promised. I really wanted to speak with the new leaders of the dynasty, which was so influential in the magocratic world, but none of their ruling elite showed up. Too bad. I had to convey that wish through my officers. Sio-Mi-Dori antigravs also brought a second batch of troops from La-Varrez and their vassals. A group of Koreans arrived as well, fully equipped and ready to take part in landing operations right away if needed. They also brought fifty heavy walking combat robots and ten assault drones. The nascent army of Earth’s troop count was growing quickly and was already over twenty-one thousand.

My Diplomat Leng Thomas also returned from negotiations with the NPC Antiquity Faction. Leng Phylira the Centaur mare had essentially assented to us deploying twenty-three new Relict Faction outposts on the southern peninsula, but they had not yet been able to reach a final agreement on the total pay the NPC construction workers would receive for their labor. Apparently, I would have to speak with Phylira personally and placate the Centaur Matriarch with some extra special gift.

At that, some good news was brought by Beast Master Valeri-Urla after her talk with the NPC Harpies from the same Antiquity Faction. The winged brutes had finally promised not to attack cargo caravans passing through the Harpy Cliffs. That immediately simplified logistics, making it easier to reach the spaceport on the eastern shore of the bay. There was no longer any need to involve Geckho ferries, which were already booked out a month in advance. Though I couldn’t say exactly how much we could believe our untrustworthy winged allies — the harpies, as a rule, were just as liable to break an oath as they were to give one. In any case, time would tell. And if they made us, we’d have to force the winged brutes to make good on their promises — the harpies respected force. That I had known for a long time.

By nightfall, the training camp was full of light and deafeningly loud — troops from a number of units were working out various night assault tactics while their instructors looked on. Explosions, fire, camouflage smoke, the crackling of hundreds of automatic weapons and the bright lines of laser beams. The thundering was louder and the flickering brighter than the fireworks on New Year’s in Russia at midnight. At a certain point, I went up a tall observation tower with Fox and Gerd T’yu-Pan to watch the proceedings. The former commander of the largest private military company in the galaxy winced in disgust and nagged:

“Untrained rabble. Cannon fodder. Savages. No tactics. I mean, why are the Shocktroops, Gunfighters and Machinegunners all acting the same?! They have totally different class bonuses and different roles in the group! There are illumination flares in the air and every troop is carrying a decloaking light... in a real battle, all these people would be dead in one second!”

“Humans cannot see in the dark,” I reminded the Morphian, to which the experienced warrior snapped sharply:

“Okay, but can they also not think? Or do they just really enjoy respawning? There are more prudent ways of illuminating a battlefield. Those flares would give the Meleyephatian defenders more information than the attacking Humans. After all, you could deploy spotlight drones using parts of the light spectrum invisible to the Meleyephatian eye. Or at the end of the day you could launch light grenades at their positions. And on top of that, your troops could be using abilities like Eagle Eye, Sharp Hearing and Night Vision. It would be very easy to get by without all this light!”

Gerd T’yu-Pan, who was also up with us, was carefully taking down all these remarks in his tablet. I strongly suspected that the leader of Tamara the Paladin’s boarding team was planning not only to tell the instructors how to remedy those flaws, but also to fix the errors his boarding team was making.

Fox then clutched her head with her hands and commented on the coming of Engineers and Medics to the front lines. As well as the uselessness of the Snipers hunkered down in the distance and the conditional “defenders” that stayed out of the battle until all the forward squadrons were completely eliminated. In sharp terms, she noted an absence of sensible command and a complete lack of understanding among the commanders of every last unit of what was actually happening down on the front lines. Finally, the Morphian, unable to continue to bear the mayhem being wrought down below, shot a red firework into the night sky from a rocket launcher to signal the end of the assault.

Taking the microphone, the diminutive tailed Miyelonian announced to the whole practice ground:

“That’s enough for today! Troops, fill your bellies and go get some rest. All instructors and squadron commanders come see me at headquarters. We’re going to go over your errors.”

Then Ayni turned around, measured me up with a long scrutinizing gaze and said:

“As for you, Gnat, I suggest you get a good night’s rest. You’ll be taking part in the exercises tomorrow yourself. And you will have to try and prove to the many factions of both worlds that you are worthy of being called their Kung. Choose the ten strongest fighters from Team Gnat or anywhere else. Tomorrow all of you together will try and kill me!”

Chapter Twenty-Eight. A Nighttime Conversation

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I DIDN’T FOLLOW the Morphian’s advice and go straight to get some rest. Training is a beneficial and important endeavor, but I had another few pieces of urgent business that just could not bear delay. For starters, I had to talk with the Geckho from the spaceport services. Despite the late hour, I needed to get them all in one place to announce the new rules barring trade with the Terrestrial Coalition and preventing its members from visiting the spaceport as punishment for standing in the way of a mission from the great Krong Daveyesh-Pir.

Sabotaging a Krong’s instructions was a very serious infraction, so the spaceport employees didn’t have even the slightest objection to the Kung of Earth’s first decree. But just to make sure, I gave each Geckho some extra personal motivation to ensure compliance. I introduced a rule that was highly reminiscent of the pirate prides’ scheme for gathering useful leads: any spaceport employee or cargo ship crewmember that discovered and reported a prohibited shipment could lay claim to a quarter of its value it was sold by my business partner, the well-known Gerd Uline Tar. As expected, the spaceport employees were delighted to hear that. A few of them even ran off to check the cargo bills of two recently landed shuttles transporting goods for Earth factions.

Authority increased to 107!

Psionic skill increased to level one hundred twenty-seven!

Mysticism skill increased to level seventy-two!

Training skill increased to level twenty-nine!

You have reached level one hundred six!

You have received three skill points!

Despite the positive nature of the pop-up messages, I was actually more upset by them. Regrettable as it was to admit, the speed my Gnat was gaining levels and skills was going down all the time. Whereas relatively recently I could expect to level up two or three times in one day with fifteen or twenty skill-ups on top of that, now it had taken me more than two days to get from one hundred five to one hundred six. And sure, in that time Kung Gnat had been busy primarily with a long string of talks and administrative affairs, but nevertheless... the writing was on the wall and it saddened me. And the Training skill I had taken to ameliorate the situation was not having too big an impact on the overall picture.

Approximating this trend into the future showed that reaching level one hundred twenty-five, which was what I needed to use the Tachyon Bender and other second level upgrades for my Listener Energy Armor, would take two months in the best case, and most likely a whole three. And that, of course, was not great for me. After all, I wanted to be able to use that armor improvement before being sent out to the red-hot space war and ideally, you never know, even surprise Fox at tomorrow’s training session. And so, I headed to my frigate in its covered hangar, and summoned all three Kirsan repair bots:

“I need this thing here,” I said, taking a heavy rectangular box with rounded edges from my inventory, “to have not only its racial limitation removed, but also to have its level and skill requirements reduced.”

I placed the Tachyon Bender on the table, giving the mechanical centipedes a chance to study the precious artifact. I didn’t understand how the white Kirsan did it, but it only took the repair bot two taps to open up the seemingly monolithic item and split it into several parts: some electronic chips on thin ceramic disks, an array of dark crystals and two flat metal sheets, one with a readily apparent socket for attaching onto the back of my Listener armor suit. All three Mechanoid repair bots extended their thin little jointed arms toward the table and spent a long time prodding the components and conferring amongst themselves. One of the electronic chips attracted the Kirsans’ particular interest. They spun it around, handed it off to one another, even seemingly hooked it to a power supply inside their flat bodies — I saw the bots touch their little hands to all the contacts and freeze for a good while, examining something. It’s worth mentioning that the chip’s power supply did not run from the main nuclear battery of the armor suit like all the other hardware on the table, but from a separate supply that seemingly charged from the gravitational and electromagnetic fields of the planet the battery was on.

Electronics skill increased to level one hundred one!

Four minutes later, the multicolored Kirsan went into motion, took out the Universal Translator and rendered verdict, gesticulating with its whiskers and hands all the while. And at that I was gradually starting to notice a correlation between the gestures of the Kirsan’s three upper limbs and the broken phrases coming out of the translator:

“Can be. Done. But efficacy will fall. Rare item’s bonuses will be reduced. Shall we get started?”

Astrolinguistics skill increased to level one hundred nine!

I asked whether it would be possible to restore the default characteristics later. The response was unambiguous — no. Reducing the requirements would mean reducing efficacy, and that change would be permanent. Damn, frustrating. I didn’t want the ancient artifact to permanently lose power. I took a deep sigh... and nevertheless agreed. Better to be able to use the Tachyon Bender now, even if it was slightly diminished, than to go the whole war without it. I was about to leave. I had even turned around and taken a few steps toward the door, figuring the bots would now be busy with the difficult task for a while, but the multicolored Kirsan called out to me right away:

“Captain. Ready. Program reflashed. Some components removed. Here. Your item.”

I turned incredulously, but the rectangular metal box was in fact already reassembled and lying on the table:

Tachyon bender (accessory for Devourer armor).

Creates a 7-inch-wide time-delay cocoon around the player for a duration of 1 second (level-2 modifications such as this require permission from the Relict hierarchs to install) * permission confirmed.

Required class: Inquirer, Listener, Punisher, Devourer.

Statistic requirements: Level 107, Intelligence 33, Perception 33.

Skill requirements: Medium Armor 100, Electronics 100, Eagle Eye 100, Danger Sense 100.

Attention! Your character’s level is not high enough to use this object.

The last line of the description just slayed me. No, for real. These Kirsans had to have been mocking me! Was it really not possible to bring the level requirement down one more so their captain could use the ancient artifact right away?! That way I could use my new hardware at tomorrow’s training session, which would come in very handy — without a way of slowing down time, I saw no way of hurting the high-level Morphian, who moved faster than a bullet. But obviously the repair bots had done everything in their power. I didn’t try to demand the impossible, thanked the Kirsans for their work and collected the Tachyon Bender.

I opened my character’s inventory window and discovered much to my surprise that I could already attach the Tachyon Bender in the place of my oxygen tank. Honestly though, the game did include the following warning:

Attention! Your character does not fully meet the requirements to use this object. Tachyon Bender performance reduced by 40%.

Not fully? Oh well, that wasn’t such a big deal. I was more bothered by the fact I had to now choose between a pressurized suit for working in a vacuum or corrosive environment, and the ability to play some tricks with time. Given I was now on my home planet and the atmosphere was breathable, I kept the Tachyon Bender installed.

There was one more matter keeping me in the game. In a quarter ummi, a high-speed interstellar Geckho liner would be arriving to the Solar System and I needed to be at the spaceport to greet its landing model, or rather a special guest who would be coming in it. Unfortunately, I could not just have someone else handle this meeting — it was a very personal matter, and this guest was extremely finicky. I had put too much effort into inviting them to this backwater on the edge of known space, so it would be very frustrating if something were suddenly not to my guest’s liking and all our hard-won understandings came unraveled.

I had to admit, I would never in my life have guessed that my business partner Gerd Uline Tar would get a wedding gift quite like this. The twin brothers Vasha and Basha Tushihh, who I went to two weeks prior for advice, had both wracked their brains to find “just the thing,” something memorable to both bride and groom that would delight them both. After a day of thinking it through, the brothers came up with an intriguing option: invite the most famous stylist of the Geckho race here from the capital planet Shiharsa, Gerd Fuhh-Yuboth, who’s specialty was luxurious wedding attire and bridal fur patterns. The main issue was that the schedule of such a trendy stylist was booked out a tong and a half in advance, and so I had to call him for a personal talk.

Honestly, it was no easy task just to wrangle such a busy and fussy star into long-distance call, and even harder to reach an arrangement. The coming of the Relict Urgeh Pu-Pu Urgeh, which had been broadcast throughout the galaxy, was a great help. It was the only reason in fact that the fashion star even agreed to talk to me — he had seen me on the news. In the end, I managed to reach an agreement without even using too many Magic Points. Now of course I didn’t get by without any Psionics but, in this case, the mana was bringing down the size of the mountain of monetary crystals I was shelling out to have the prominent figure fly all the way out here. Of course, it cost me a pretty penny. And I had to buy luxury liner tickets for the famed figure and his twenty assistants, plus pay a last-minute cancellation fee to two other marrying couples.

* * *

THE ARRIVAL OF THE passenger liner from the capital system of Shiharsa was delayed, and I was already starting to nod off in the dispatcher tower’s automatic restaurant. Even an invigorating beverage was no help. And that was exactly where I was found by the leader of the Human-3 Faction Igor Tarasov, who raced into the spaceport all in a lather:

“Gnat, what is going on?! My faction was refused a shipment of armor and weaponry we bought in space! All the Geckho told me to take it up with you, saying a hold has been placed. Furthermore, they didn’t even want to let me enter the dispatcher tower! This must be a screw-up!”

Straining to unstick my eyelids, I tried to turn on my flagging brain.

“Wait, wait!” I had seemingly guessed the reason this was happening. “Igor, are you trying to say that the H3 Faction has joined the Terrestrial Coalition?”

“Yes, and what of it?” he asked in surprise. “The curators told you during your talk that they had received a proposal to work in tandem with a coalition of several factions representing some very powerful countries on our planet. And I see nothing strange in the fact that we agreed.”

Hmm... Things had gone off the rails. I pointed at an armchair opposite me and offered him a seat. I then stood up, walked over to the vending machine and got two self-heating cans of a very sour beverage that restored Endurance Points and staved off exhaustion. I extended one to Leng Tarasov:

“Here, now some day you can tell your grandchildren that the Kung of Earth once served you in a restaurant.”

Seemingly, Leng Tarasov only read my character info after that because his face immediately looked surprised and even baffled. I considered it a good opportunity to describe things from my perspective:

“You see, the Terrestrial Coalition sent an ultimatum saying they were planning to sabotage the draft for the unified army of Earth. What, didn’t you know that? Really?”

That made him look obviously afraid and shake his head, admitting his ignorance. And he didn’t seem to be lying. I though kept escalating:

“Yes, that pointed political move on the part of the Coalition was nothing short of an attempt to depose the newly declared Kung and Kosta Dykhsh in one fell swoop, then replace us with players loyal to them. Because Kosta Dykhsh and I in this case have the same mission, and we are the ones the Geckho rulers Krong Daveyesh-Pir and Third Strike Fleet Commander Kung Waid Shishish will be flaying alive if we mess up their plans by failing to muster enough troops.”

I took a sip of the already warm drink, winced at the sour flavor, but powered through and took one more sip. My sleepiness disappeared without a trace.

“However, the Coalition miscalculated. I can get as many troops as I need. And I’ll do it even without these dissenting factions! And Viceroy Kosta Dykhsh will not only retain his post but will even be in favor with his leadership. And then, don’t you doubt it, the Viceroy will remember everyone who tried to get him unseated, and he will unleash his rage upon them! So, the Human-3 Faction has committed a suicidal political mistake...”

“What do you mean?” the faction head asked in surprise, not agreeing. “We were one of the first factions to answer the suzerains’ call and send fifteen hundred troops to the burgeoning army of Earth!”

I sat back on the little sofa and shook my head in reproach:

“Igor, it’s time for you to make up your mind — is the H3 Faction with the Kung of humanity, or against him? And then it’s like they say: ‘either shit or get off the pot.’ If the faction you lead decides in favor of the Geckho Viceroy and Kung of Earth, how can there be any talk of joining the Terrestrial Coalition? And if you end up going the other way, don’t act surprised when you find yourself hit with sanctions. And bear in mind, the prohibition on trade with the so-called Terrestrial Coalition is just the first step, a fairly light-handed attempt to teach its rogue leaders a lesson. We will only be getting harsher. We could go so far as to limit the number and level of nodes under your control.”

Tarasov removed his beret and placed it on the table, revealing a cleanshaven head covered with sweat. He kept silent a bit, then slammed his fist down on the table and exclaimed in dismay:

“That’s what you get for not having an experienced Diplomat in your faction! That week-old newcomer didn’t understand the situation and made the wrong move... After all, I definitely remember that you were told during the talk with the curators that the Human-3 Faction would be willing to work with the new Kung. I mean, you heard it yourself, Gnat!”

I confirmed that I remembered that well. And at the same time, I saw an ideal opportunity to make good on my favor to the Viceroy and talk about the disgraced Ivan Lozovsky:

“This seems like a good time to remind the Human-3 Faction of a player both of us know well, but who has been all but banned from the game. Gerd Ivan Lozovsky is an experienced Diplomat as well as a close friend of Viceroy Kosta Dykhsh. He could address the diplomatic imbalance. Then the hold will be taken off the shipment and it will be returned to you. The rest of your eight million in space imports will not be put on hold either. Furthermore...”

I had to fall silent midsentence, because the spaceport dispatcher had just announced the landing of the Uvashi III passenger liner’s landing module. I stood up, preparing to go out to meet the important guest. But first, I asked Leng Tarasov one last question:

“Igor, I don’t want to seem like I’m sticking my nose into your faction’s business, but the day after tomorrow... well actually tomorrow by this point is Kosta Dykhsh’s wedding. Have you got a gift ready for the representative of the Geckho on our planet? Something worthy of such an occasion?”

Based on the way the faction leader’s face stretched out in surprise, Leng Tarasov was hearing about the upcoming celebration for the first time. I shook my head in reproach and repeated what I said about Ivan Lozovsky needing to return — the experienced Diplomat would surely not have missed the wedding of his influential and furry friend.

On my way out, I opened the diplomatic actions tab and sent the bewildered Tarasov an invitation for his faction to join the Army of Earth alliance.

“Here, consider this your homework. I don’t know how you’ll wriggle your way out of the agreements you signed with the Terrestrial Coalition but joining this alliance would be a way for your faction to make peace with Kosta Dykhsh and get all the sanctions removed instantly. Obviously, the decision will have to be discussed with the other directors and curators. But nevertheless, I advise you not to take too long to respond. As it stands, your shipments could get confiscated and auctioned off as contraband!”

Chapter Twenty-Nine. Safe Haven

––––––––

NO, I OF COURSE I could have predicted that indulging all the whims of the recently arrived galactic stylist might be a difficult undertaking. However, I severely underestimated the scale of the problem. For one, you see, our spaceport was just too basic and rough for Gerd Fuhh-Yuboth. There were also no throngs of fans waiting to greet him. On top of that, a luxury flying shuttle of some specific rare model did not land right at the gangway of the landing module (and it turned out the receiving party was supposed to know about that, even though nobody told me). He further had to suffer the indignity of breathing unfiltered air, it was about to rain, and it did not behoove him to even so much as walk fifty steps to the shuttle we did in fact send. An endless, and constantly growing list of complaints and whims...

Authority reduced to 106!

That was where my patience snapped. After making absolutely certain that the luxury passenger liner had already left the Solar System and that there were no starships available for rent except for the extremely dingy Shiamiru cargo shuttles on the landing field, I announced to Gerd Fuhh-Yuboth that if he did not immediately settle down, he would spend the rest of his days shearing sheep in the remote mountain villages of Dagestan. I was already so sick of the peacock-primped stylist that, using psionics, I was about to overwrite his memories and force him to change his exit point into the real world. And then the extravagant Geckho would be truly convinced that his homeland was in the Caucasus mountains, and shearing sheep was his life’s calling.

Authority increased to 107!

Rough. Gerd Fuhh-Yuboth was clearly not used to that kind of treatment. Nevertheless, it did the trick. I explained the strange uptick in my Authority as most likely coming from the fact that the capital-city stylist was probably also driving his own assistants nuts, and they were happy to have at least a small break from his exhausting antics. And the rest of our flight to the Geckho settlement passed in silence. Even the sight of the tidy little hotel, nowhere near the most luxurious in the Universe, didn’t draw particular criticism from Gerd Fuhh-Yuboth or his assistants. His group agreed to stay there and had already unloaded but, just then, Viceroy Kosta Dykhsh raced over. Having learned of the capital-city notable’s arrival, he offered to let the stylist stay in his residence — it would be more comfortable, and all his work would be there anyway. I then washed my hands of the matter, finally having delivered the fickle star into the paws of his client.

When I left the game and walked the rest of the way to my hotel room at the Miyelonian space station Kasti-Utsh III, the only thought in my mind was to fall into bed and never get back up. However... There was someone in my room! I could tell by the mysterious noises coming from behind the closed door — it sounded like someone was gobbling down a living being in there, crunching through gnawed-down bones and groaning with pleasure. I admit, the first thought that crossed my mind... strange as it may have been, was Fox. Because the sounds were approximately like what I heard after she took down the Miyelonian cutthroats that attacked us way back when I first met the “space fox.”

And I did have a reason to think of the Morphian specifically — just the day before I had spoken with Fox one-on-one about the problem of members of her small race exiting the game that bends reality. Our talk was thorough and unusually frank. Fox confirmed that Morphians born in the game still had the function set typical of living players, in particular a game menu containing the option to “Exit the Game.” However, none of her acquaintances that had selected that option had ever returned to the game...

No one knew the reason for that. Perhaps, the difficulty or even impossibility of maintaining one form after an abrupt change in circumstances exposed members of her race, and the Morphians were simply obliterated shortly after exiting. But if that were the only issue, as the absolute ruler of the First Directory, I could provide the Morphians virt pods in a safe location. And as head of the faction, I could also enroll the Morphian in my faction and even more or less set a point for her to exit into the real world. Not down to a specific virt pod unfortunately but, at the very least, I could set a region: The Dome near Moscow, the secret science facility in a small town near Novosibirsk, either of two centers in Germany, a wide selection of data centers in the First Directory of the magocratic world or... no, I didn’t even mention the Syam Tro VII Refuge.

Don’t think me reckless. I never forgot for a second that Morphians were dangerous predators and potential man-eaters. But at the same time, I understood that the few surviving members of that race would not be rebellious or go hunting for humans if I gave them a new home after so many centuries of violent persecution. In fact, they would keep quiet as church mice. And they would remain dependent on the game — the slightest infraction and the rule breaker could be neutralized next to their virt pod. That method of control would stay effective at least until a new generation of Morphians was born unattached to the game. Although it would also be possible to control new ones, and I had come up with a few surefire methods. I discussed all that honestly with Fox. My acquaintance promised to consider my offer but was more leaning toward turning it down — she did not wish to put control over the Morphians into someone else’s hands, thus giving them the chance to exterminate the last members of her race.

Then I told her about paid services that provided virt pods, which were primarily on the Miyelonian station Kasti-Utsh III. The Morphian, of course, had long been aware of such services, but she also treated them with a great deal of caution. I assured her that I used one to transfer my physical body to the space station and it all went smoothly. Fox promised to think it over.

I applied some common sense and realized that Fox could never have come to a real-world Miyelonian station, especially in such a short timeframe. Further, my now sharper sense of smell since the Perception boost was picking up Valeri’s perfume and the musk of her big cat. I opened the door with my electronic key and quietly went inside. Little Sister greeted me with a wary gaze and a roar warning me to keep away from her bowl and bag of dry food.

Well, well. I had a panther’s food bowl in my apartment. Unexpected. What other discoveries were waiting for me? I found somebody’s suitcase in the wall closet, and a woman’s clothing on the hangars. In the bathroom there was a huge box of kitty litter on the floor. Just peachy... I headed into the big guest room and didn’t notice any changes. But in my bedroom I found Valeri asleep on my very bed and wearing a semi-transparent nighty. News to me!

No, I did not wake her or demand an explanation, deciding instead to have a talk with her tomorrow with a fresh mind. I switched off the light, went back into the guest room and, without taking my clothes off, plunked back onto the couch. My thoughts were racing after everything that happened, but drowsiness finally won the day. I have a hazy memory mixed in with a dream of the huge panther jumping up on the couch with me, spending a long time sniffing me and finally finding a cozy spot at my feet and giving a happy purr.

* * *

I WOKE UP FEELING LIKE someone was watching me. I turned my head where I thought my observer may have been and discovered the Tailaxian lady sitting in an armchair. If my eyes did not deceive me, the only article of clothing she had on was a big towel wrapped around her torso. The pleasant smell of aromatic oils and the Tailaxian’s wet hair told me she had just gotten out of the shower.

“Good morning, Gnat! Or rather, in local time it is actually late evening.”

The huge pure white Little Sister stretched out next to me and yawned, revealing a toothy maw. I gave Valeri a scant greeting and sat up on the sofa. My dismay did not go unnoticed.

“First of all, let me explain why I’m here so you don’t have any questions,” she suggested and extended me a small sheet of metal foil rolled up into a tube with symbols perforated into it.

I unrolled the foil, looked closer and... couldn’t make head or tail of it. Just unintelligible hieroglyphs. An unknown language, although... I had seen similar glyphs somewhere before. Yes, exactly! In the game that bends reality, on the IR Lens attached to my helmet.

“That is the language of Tailax,” Valeri-Urla told me, very nervous as she did. “It says: ‘Prisoner № 88900341. Did you think you could hide from us? Not on your life! None can escape the retribution of Tailax. Your mother Salaya has already been executed because her daughter ran away. Next in line is your sister Dinka. And after that will be your turn.’ I found this yesterday in my hotel room inside a bottle of perfume on the table. And the door was locked the entire time.”

Worrisome... We really had not considered the fact that the galactic news had shown my Gnat on the Kasti-Utsh III station with the Miyelonian Ayni and some human girl, or that the prison wardens on Tailax might have seen that and recognized their escaped prisoner. Valeri then continued:

“I left the room right away without taking anything other than this note. I know the methods of the Tailaxian secret services just too well, and so I have no doubt that miniature monitoring devices have already been inserted into lots of things, and they probably also left several devices that could kill me. Where could I run to in that situation? I decided to come to your place because I thankfully already had a key. On my way I just got some food for Little Sister and a few articles of clothing for myself — just the essentials.”

Those “few articles of clothing,” by all appearances, had necessitated an entire suitcase and took up nearly my whole closet. But I of course didn’t go poking holes — Valeri was having a hard-enough time as it was. Instead I asked about Dinka — my companion had never told me she had a sister.

“My little sister Dinka was born on Zeta Reaper III just like me but she was kidnapped as a young girl. After that, I one day found my sister in a smugglers’ camp. She was a slave servant of a Free Captain, a woman named Astarta. She was taken by the slave girl’s huge eyes, rare outside of Tailax, and so she took Dinka for herself. I managed to free Dinka from slavery[1]. However... It’s hard to explain, Gnat, but my sister could no longer live in the harsh primitive society of Zeta Reaper and fled back to Astarta. That was five years ago. Where Dinka is now, I have no idea. Most likely, she’s still flying around barely explored space with Astarta’s crew of criminals and smugglers. And if the Prelates of Tailax find her, my sister is done for.”

Hmm... A sad story. I felt sorry for Dinka. But I was much more concerned for the fate of her older sister Valeri, who had come to me for help. For some reason I couldn’t believe she had truly escaped her pursuers. She said she didn’t bring anything from her old room... I picked up the perforated hieroglyph foil and took a closer look. The strange method employed to convey the threat bothered me somehow and even put me on guard. Why all go to the pain of perforating a piece of foil? After all, it clearly had not been written in a hurry on somebody’s knee. This thing took special equipment to produce. No, I didn’t notice anything suspicious — no microscopic ampules of poison or any other things like bugs embedded in the metal. Maybe the perforated symbols themselves served as the elements of some complex electronic circuit that in turn served as an antenna or microphone. Ugh, I wished I could show this note to our Engineer in the game. He could have given a professional answer...

My thought process was interrupted by a knock at the door. But whereas I was just on guard, Valeri-Urla shuddered in fear and very nearly screamed — her nerves were stretched to the limit. I activated the wall screen and brought up the feed from the external cameras. Everything was fine. It was just our common acquaintance Ayni. I unlocked the door.

“Don’t tell her about my problems! We do not need to embroil your tailed friend!” Valeri pleaded, wrapping herself a bit tighter and readjusting the towel. I nodded in agreement.

The Miyelonian came in and greeted us, smiling with all her sharp little teeth. Then she looked with interest at my guest’s peculiar outfit. By all appearances, there would be no avoiding gossip and chatter now.

“Valeri just came over for a visit,” I tried to explain the awkward situation. But my excuses did not appear to be necessary:

“Yes, I can see that,” Ayni waved as if to say she didn’t need any explanations. “Valeri told me about human marriage traditions. She still has her braid of chastity. That means you were just talking. By the way, Fox has been asking about both of you in the game. Weren’t you planning to come train?”

Valeri and I exchanged glances.

“Why don’t we...” I turned serious as soon as I remembered what a difficult test I had in store: facing off in the arena against the high-level killer Morphian. As far as I had seen, she had never been bested. And we would be going toe-to-toe in front of thousands and thousands of soldiers, whose opinion of the Kung of humanity would largely depend on the outcome of this difficult fight.

“I’m coming to train too!” the Tailaxian confirmed. “But I need to dry off first and have at least a little bite to eat. I’m just dying of hunger!”

“Then why don’t all three of us have a quick meal in the same little restaurant we went to last time. And then we can all go train together!”

Chapter Thirty. Gnat on a Rampage

––––––––

I REALIZED it wasn’t exactly a great idea to go to the restaurant as soon as we entered. It was loud and blindingly bright, just chalk full of flickering multicolored bulbs. First, the place was packed with Miyelonians and members of different spacefaring races. I didn’t see any unoccupied tables. Second... if I were in the game, the sharp change in my mood would be most easily explained by Danger Sense kicking in. Something wasn’t right...

I don’t know exactly what put me on guard. Maybe it was the big group of humans in orange spaceman suits that all turned our direction at the same time and started exchanging whispers. Humans were fairly infrequent visitors to Miyelonian stations and, after the story about Tailaxian special services hunting down Valeri, the big group of members of my race aroused particular suspicion.

“Let’s get out of here!” I caught my companions off guard, themselves already tasting the yummy dinner ahead.

Valeri and Ayni didn’t argue and obediently turned toward the exit right after me. However, we were not simply allowed to leave in peace.

Right away, a group of Miyelonians stood up from the two tables nearest the doors and blocked our path. It was seven scowling criminal-looking Miyelonians and one big muscular Geckho. Actually, I recognized his face. I’d encountered his ugly mug once before... Ah, now I remember! It was on the Tiopeo-Myhh II pirate interceptor. When I was flying toward Earth, they tried in vain to capture us, and then took us for two million by slipping us counterfeit crystals. The scowling Geckho was what tipped me off — before me were cutthroats from the Pride of the Bushy Shadow, Big Abi’s pirates. And given that, this was not looking good...

A laser pistol appeared in the paws of the nearest cat, his gray fur all spiked up. The other pirates also hauled out their weapons — pistols and razor-sharp curved blades. One even had a telescoping shock baton. The Geckho meanwhile donned a set of spiked brass knuckles over his already scarily large fists. The other patrons nearby saw them getting ready for a fight and started quickly and noisily getting out of the way. But the Miyelonian pirates for some reason did not attack right away, and instead started doing something strange —they tied bright red bandannas around their cat-eared heads with a message embroidered in gold thread. Not in Miyelonian. Actually... it looked very similar, but I couldn’t recognize any of the glyphs.

“Big Abi has sentenced you to die!” the scruffy gray Miyelonian closest to me announced enthusiastically, seemingly the head honcho of the group of murderers. All the while, the spike-haired tomcat had his gun trained on me and was clearly relishing watching the red dot jump all around my face. “Big Abi said to tell you that you robbed his hiding spot and took two whole lives he was planning to live...”

So, the leader of the pirate pride wasn’t keeping the Precursor stones to sell after all. He was going to use them on himself. Anyhow, it didn’t matter. I didn’t hear anything else the pirate had to say, having decided instead to be proactive:

“Ayni, you take the Geckho bruiser. Distract him for a couple seconds at least! Valeri, you get the one on the right. I’ll take the other six!” I sent the mental message to my companions, then got straight to action.

Before the nearest killer had even finished his bombastic speech, his pistol leapt out of his paws (telekinesis worked just as well in the real world). The Miyelonian himself then flew vertically upward and slammed headfirst through the plastic false ceiling. The pirate’s back paws started twitching in violent convulsions then stopped. A thick stream of fragrant red blood flowed down from the ceiling. Why the Miyelonian had died all of a sudden, I honestly did not know. Either I had miscalculated the psionic force I used on his fairly light body, or the tailed pirate’s head smashed into a piece of sharp metal in the ceiling. But I didn’t give it much thought and immediately threw the neutralized opponent out of my head. I could not afford to think about him anymore because I had a lot to do. I was killing!

The pirate furthest to my left obeyed my unseen order and used his razor-sharp crescent blade to slash off the head of the Miyelonian next to him, who had already drawn his laser pistol. Mind you, the tailed murderer himself immediately collapsed as well when his partner, standing just behind him, unloaded the battery of his laser pistol into his back. I didn’t have to worry about the partner either, though — a lightning-fast body appeared from invisibility midjump and its victim collapsed to the floor with a slit throat. Little Sister lapped all the blood off his face, though she did not devour her prey and turned toward her master. Then she made one bounding leap and was at Valeri’s side, helping her engage in melee combat with the Miyelonian wielding the shock baton, who was already pinned to the floor. And that one was actually a woman — Valeri’s opponent was clearly female. Seemingly, she was the prostitute who had been with us on the Tiopeo-Myhh II pirate interceptor. My help was no longer needed there — Little Sister chomped through the Miyelonian female’s neck in one formidable bite.

Then a ghastly wail of pain and despair drowned out all other sounds in the restaurant, and I instantly turned toward the shout. As it turned out, the diminutive but lightning fast and lethal Ayni was capably and efficiently dissecting the giant Geckho with her sharp claws as he squealed in pain. Yikes! I had already seen such a thing before though. “Method number two of butchering a Geckho,” if I was not mistaken. Fox showed it to us on the Shiamiru shuttle, using one of Captain Uraz-Tukhsh’s guards as an example. After that, Gerd Eeeezzz 777 the Meleyephatian Gunner had explained how to fight a Geckho in hand-to-hand combat as well, but he didn’t have anyone to practice on.

The Geckho’s cry was cut short when my beautiful translator raised her bloodied paw in the air to show off the giant’s still-beating heart, spurting out blood in big glugs. I saw several of the Geckho in the restaurant faint. Yes, it was a shocking sight to behold.

The two last pirates froze uneasily, absolutely unable to comprehend what was going on around them. They were both disoriented with all their sense organs blocked and afflicted by mental paralysis in all its ghastly glory. I was planning to take them alive so there would be someone to hand over to law enforcement for interrogation. But I didn’t manage — both of the tailed pirates fell, honeycombed by a huge burst of laser pulses coming from several different guns. I immediately turned, ready to act at once. But I paused in indecision. As it turned out, the people in the orange jumpsuits had joined the fight — the four human spacemen were standing with laser pistols in their hands.

Despite the fact that I was alone and also unarmed, and they were four and armed with pistols, I could sense that they were very afraid of me. By all appearances, Free Captain Gnat didn’t have the most peace-loving reputation.

“Leng Gnat, we are not enemies!” one of the spacemen assured me, lowering his arm and holstering his pistol. I saw a Free Captain patch sewn onto his sleeve.

His subordinates followed their captain’s lead and slowly stashed their weapons. The bloodied body of the leader of the eight pirates plopped down from the ceiling behind me. I meanwhile didn’t even turn, looking over the strangers who had come to my aid. Or had they just prudently murdered the two last witnesses to keep their mouths shut? For the time being, I hadn’t decided how to perceive their intervention. Who were they? Obviously not Tailaxians — they all had eyes of normal human size. And they didn’t feel guilty. In fact, they sincerely believed I should have been grateful to them.

“Not Leng, I’m a Kung now,” I corrected the man and made an inquiry with no more guardedness or hostility in my voice. “Who are you?”

“I am Sewell Teero, captain of the ore carrier the Avaricious Miner. And this is my crew,” the middle-aged but sturdy man pointed to his three companions. “We’ve been making regular trips from Gilvar Syndicate enrichment plants here to Kasti-Utsh III for two tongs now.”

I winced despite myself. The Gilvar Syndicate was a long-time human vassal of the Meleyephatian Horde, meaning they were enemies of the Geckho. Nevertheless, these people had helped me. Obviously, this Free Captain wasn’t accounting for politics when he decided to help, and the members of his crew felt the same.

“Thank you, Sewell,” I gave a barely noticeable bow.

“You shouldn’t have killed those Miyelonians,” Ayni walked up to the corpses, turning them all over and examining them matter-of-factly. “All eight of the attackers were wearing bandannas reading ‘Avast ye scurvy dogs!’ as is proscribed for situations such as these. It means outsiders should stay out if they don’t want to be harmed. It’s a traditional space pirate warning cry written in ancient glyphs that are no longer in common use. These killers had quarrel only with my captain and were not planning to harm anyone else, including Valeri or me. But we are friends of Gnat and of course came to his aid. But you could have stayed out. Instead you intentionally killed two Miyelonians, and on a Miyelonian station at that... Now you’ll have your starship confiscated and be imprisoned at the very least.”

All four of the people from the Avaricious Miner turned sad in an instant, their heads hanging. And it was made all the worse when a group of warriors in white armor ran into the restaurant panting. The First Pride guards the Great Kung Keetsie-Myau had assigned to me had slept through the whole confrontation.

“Ayni, I mentally asked these people to help!” I rushed to assure my personal assistant, meanwhile also telling my version of events to the nearby Miyelonians, because the situation was starting to look very grim for the spacemen. “I think I even splashed some magic into my request so they definitely wouldn’t refuse.”

“Yes, I also heard Gnat’s appeal to these people,” the Tailaxian added her support, although I hadn’t asked Valeri to do so.

Law enforcement also finally arrived and, while they and the First Pride troopers examined the scene of the bloody struggle, a reporter dashed over as well. The huge portly tomcat with the emblem of the local news channel on his cape and a camera and microphone on his helmet, clicked his tongue in satisfaction, gleefully telling his viewers about the intriguing events that had just taken place on the space station. I beckoned the reporter with a hand, and he ran over eagerly. Looking straight into the camera, I tried to look convincing and menacing and said:

“Gerd Abi Pan-Miay, you’re as good as dead! The incarnation of the Great First Female of the Miyelonians, Priestess Leng Amiru U-Mayaoo gave you a clear order to stay away from me! And you just spat in her face and ordered your pirates to attack me anyway! The commander of the Fourth Fleet of the Union of Miyelonian Prides, the Great Kung Keetsie-Myau ordered you to settle all our conflicts in a one-on-one duel, and you lost fair and square. But you spat in the face of the Great One as well, continuing your attempts to murder me even after the duel. And know this — all the emissaries you send after me can expect just such an inglorious end,” I took a step to the side, allowing the reporter to get another wide shot of the bloodied corpses on the floor. “You are now a pariah. From this day forth, you will be considered an enemy of the Great Leng Amiru and the Great Kung Keetsie. Isn’t that right, Gerd Lekku?”

The reporter turned the camera to Kung Keetsie’s severe and fearsome fiancé as he stepped over the corpses. The Brawler was eager to confirm:

“The rogue pirate by the alias Big Abi has mortally offended my bride Kung Keetsie, and thus has become a personal enemy of myself and the Miyelonian race as a whole. From now on, Big Abi and his pride shall be prohibited from accessing any Miyelonian station. And I don’t even have to put a price on your head, because every Miyelonian will now consider it their sacred duty to kill you, you degenerate!”

* * *

YES, I HAD KILLED THREE Miyelonians. And really six, because the other three were completely immobilized by me and had no way of resisting. And I had killed them not in the virtual game where they could respawn but in the real world where there was no such thing. Their deaths would be final and permanent. And although I had condemned people to death with actions and words before — the psionic mage that entered my world or my wife’s devious grandfather Gerd Avir-Syn La-Pirez — you must agree, killing an intelligent being yourself and seeing their blood, convulsions and dying pain is something totally different.

Was I at all bothered by that? A difficult question, and I couldn’t give an unambiguous answer. I definitely was not experiencing the kind of unbearable moral torment described by Dostoevsky with life forever divided into “before” and “after.” I was still the same person and was confident I’d done the right thing. Those were notorious villains, pirates and murderers. The issue was very straightforward — either me or them. But nevertheless, my hands were shaking and the deaths of those Miyelonians just kept replaying in my head again and again. I really wanted not to think about anything and just get drunk. Go over to the bar and order the highest proof nuclear swill on offer, then pour it down my throat until I forgot everything and just let go. But I held back and tried to stay confident and dignified as I answered the Miyelonian investigators’ many questions.

Yes, of course no one was going to just allow us to just up and leave after the brutal murder of seven Miyelonians and one Geckho. And although there were no specific charges brought against me or my companions — the hundreds of visitors in the restaurant all confirmed that we were acting in self-defense, nevertheless I had to talk with law enforcement and the First Pride for a long time. And time and again they made me answer the same questions formulated in slightly different ways...

No, the murder was in no way connected with racial animus. I hold no intolerance or racial prejudices against Miyelonians or Geckho. Furthermore, my crew is full of both kinds. My business partner is a Geckho, and my personal assistant a Miyelonian. Is that enough to prove my beliefs? No, it wasn’t connected to the great war either — I am a Free Captain and do everything I can to stay out of politics. Yes, I agree, I don’t always succeed. Although, if you put it that way, the Geckho are allies and the suzerains of my planet, while the Miyelonians are neutral to my race. Convinced yet? Yes, I do possess psionic abilities. Want a demonstration? Are you CERTAIN you want me to read your mind? No, no second thoughts? Yes, I can converse mentally. How else could I have summoned that group of people to help me without saying anything out loud?

And so on and so forth, just like that...

My tongue was just itching to tell the law enforcement officers, given we had a chance to talk, that my companion Valeri was being stalked and had received threats from the Prelates of Tailax. But after some contemplation, I decided against it. The Miyelonians were now neutral toward the Meleyephatian Horde and their vassals, and so the disturbing story could in fact end in the arrest and extradition of the escaped criminal back to Tailax. Valeri didn’t tell the Miyelonians about it either, clearly for the same reason.

Finally, my companions and I were released. Full vindication for our brutal but necessary self-defense. We were given no restrictions or limitations. We didn’t even get a little fine. The crew of the Avaricious Miner had been let go before that. They did have worse luck though — the Miyelonian company they worked for had reneged on their years-old contract to ship lanthanoid concentrate due to the big scandal and potential risk to their business reputation, which left the men jobless. Still I tried to reassure Captain Sewell Teero and promised to think up a way to compensate them.

Unfortunately, none of the four spacemen were in the game that bends reality, so a simple player-to-player money transfer through the in-game payment system would not be possible. Furthermore, in the current interstellar conflict, our homeworlds were technically on opposite sides of the barricade, which also needed to be taken into account. In fact, it was easily possible that a little bit of financial support from us could land these guys in big trouble for accepting money from the “enemy.”

“Am I right in understanding you probably won’t be going to training?” Ayni clarified, because Valeri and I were obviously in no rush to go to our virt pods.

To be frank, after the surge of emotions and adrenaline during the fast-paced fight with the pirates, I was now overtaken by a feeling of complete physical and emotional emptiness. I simply would not be able to push my abilities for all they were worth a second time today, which I told the Miyelonian honestly. Valeri said approximately the same. Furthermore, the Tailaxian girl had bruised her arm and scraped both her knees during the fight with the shock-baton-armed pirate lady, which didn’t exactly make her eager to go train.

“You know best. As for me, I’ll be going. And I’ll tell Fox the valid reason for your absence. See you later!”

The orange Miyelonian left us and hurried over to the elevators. As soon as the doors closed behind her, my Tailaxian companion inquired:

“Gnat, what do you think, could that have been Fox disguised as Ayni? No, I understand it makes no sense, and there are no Morphians in the real world. But still... She’s so tiny, but she had such an easy time dispatching that Geckho. It was like she was up against a training dummy rather than some ten-foot-tall goon.”

Yes, I had considered that myself. And so I had read Ayni’s thoughts several times after the impressive display of speed and killing prowess. Either Fox had learned to flawlessly imitate not only Ayni’s appearance, but also her thoughts, or that brutal vivisection of a giant Geckho had in fact been performed by the real Miyelonian. That was exactly what I said to my slightly limping companion as she leaned on my shoulder.

The walk back to my apartment brought us past an automatic grocery kiosk. I walked over and familiarized myself with what was on offer. No gourmet treats. It was only selling protein bars, unleavened flatbread, a few different kinds of dried fruits, and cans of alcoholic and refreshing beverages. I made a few purchases.

“Ooh, are we going to have a romantic dinner?” my companion chuckled, referring to the alcohol and fruit I’d bought, then pointed at the vending machine next to this one. “Then you’d better go get some of that too.”

I looked where Valeri-Urla was pointing, and my jaw dropped in surprise. The next vending machine over was selling “contraceptives for a wide array of protein-based lifeforms.” Was that a joke? I fully expected such mockery out of Valeri.

“No joke, Gnat. I’m completely serious,” the huge-eyed girl once again demonstrated just how easily she could read my thoughts. “Today when fighting the space pirates, you finally did what I’d been waiting for — you demonstrated your true strength. That was simply unbelievable! The crushing might wafting off you was so powerful that I wanted to fall to my knees and howl in delight. For the first time in my life, I saw a man worthy of being at my side. Worthy of possessing me. For the whole night, I am yours. And tomorrow... we’ll see.”

Chapter Thirty-One. Uline’s Wedding

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WHEN I WOKE UP, Valeri was no longer next to me on the bed. Only the wrinkled bedsheets, pink bra hanging from the chandelier and lingering musty smell of the “contraception for any protein-based lifeform” served to remind me of last night’s rampage. I gave an involuntary chuckle when I remembered how Valeri and I staggered back after breaking the seal on the can of contraceptive and stuck it right back in the bag. The smell of the substance was... how to put it lightly... very particular. Somewhere between an overripe durian, ammonia and rotten fish. I can’t comment on its pharmacological properties, we didn’t check. But the smell of the medicine alone was enough to scare off any possible sexual partner and thus serve as a foolproof guarantee against pregnancy.

Other than that, it all went amazingly. The somewhat abbreviated start (I was impatient and abrupt, while Valeri had in fact never been with a man before) did nothing to spoil our night of love. Valeri quickly got the taste for it and became an unbridled savage, predator of the night, passionate and insatiable. She had been awaiting this night for many long years, dreaming of it and now, like a river bursting through a dam, her feelings gushed forth. Multiply that passion by the complete mental convergence of two psionics, both knowing exactly what the other wanted and sharing all their intimate fantasies and desires. We tried everything, ourselves not even always certain who came up with what. It was fantastic. Honestly, we were somewhat stymied by the curious Little Sister, locked in a different room but impudently scratching at the door and raining down mental questions and messages on her master: “Why did you lock the door? What are you doing in there? Why are you moaning, are you alright? I made number two in my box; I need it cleaned.” But that came with the Tailaxian’s rare profession. And as I came together with the Beast Master (in all senses) I also started hearing her pet and found myself getting distracted.

Yes, it was an awesome night. I wiped the stupid smile off my face, stood up and walked around the apartment. Valeri and her pet Little Sister were not in the other rooms either. The suitcase and her things were gone, and even the panther’s bowls and litter box had disappeared. However, on the table in the entryway I did find a carefully severed long maiden’s braid. And next to it, a message in Miyelonian next to the one written by the Great Kung Keetsie on the tabletop in the very same marker:

“Gnat, that was amazing! But I don’t want my sister and my problems to get in the way of your mission to save your home planet. I went off to find Dinka. I have an approximate idea of where my sister might be. Don’t come looking for me, it’s too dangerous.

Gratefully yours for the night of love, Valeri.

P.S. I’m not cut out to be your wayedda.”

* * *

THE FIRST PRIDE TROOPS told me she had left my room around a quarter ummi ago. They offered to patch me into the video surveillance system to track her path through the station, but I refused because I had already guessed where she went. Valeri-Urla probably went straight for her virt pod, entered the game and bought a ticket on a starship heading away from Earth. And given the Beast Master had left me a note, she must have been completely certain that I would not be able to catch up to her in the spaceport.

After that, when the Beast Master reached her destination, she would go straight to a virt pod rental firm, and there change her exit point into the real world. But for a player that was in a faction/pride/clan, that service was impossible to use without the permission of their faction head. And that meant Valeri-Urla would have requested to leave the Relict Faction in the game menu. And if my guesses were right, I would already be too late to intercept her and convince the Tailaxian girl I had grown so attached to, to stay.

Nevertheless, I rushed to enter the game and five minutes later was in my game box. Loading up. The game greeted me with a message I was not expecting to see so soon:

ATTENTION!!! The leader of the Human-3 Faction, Leng Igor Tarasov has accepted your offer to conclude a military and political alliance. The leader of the alliance shall be Kung Gnat as the player with the highest Fame and Authority figures. Alliance members: 3 of a possible 8.

That meant the leader of the H3 Faction had already gotten permission from the curators and the Russian faction had reneged on all its already inked understandings with the Terrestrial Coalition. I suspected the H23 would have done the same in accordance with the new policies of its parent faction.

There were another couple predictable messages after the recent news of the bloodbath in the restaurant on Kasti-Utsh III:

Fame increased to 107.

Authority increased to 108!

I figured the unexpected outcome of the attack had come as a surprise to many — an unarmed man and his two pretty companions had slain eight armed cutthroats from a renowned pirate pride in three seconds flat. My message to Big Abi on camera had also probably elicited interest and discussion in Miyelonian society.

I appeared on my frigate, which was stationed at the spaceport right where I’d been when I exited into the real world. And right after greeting my guards Eduard Boyko and Grim Reaper as I ran past, I hurried to the captain’s bridge to get in touch with the spaceport dispatchers and ask whether any starships had taken off from the planet in the last hour. As it turned out, yes. A landing module had just taken off from Earth carrying a few departing passengers up to a space liner, which had brought another group of guests here for the upcoming wedding. And among them was the high-profile human lady Gerd Valeri-Urla. The dispatchers confirmed that the module had successfully docked on the starship and the liner had already departed the Solar System with all passengers on board.

What a pity. I didn’t make it. And by the way, my friend the Beast Master had been promoted to Gerd. Well, that was easy to predict. After Valeri-Urla had served as a conduit for messages from the Prelates of Tailax, then become the first person to ever be rid of Tailaxian surveillance implants and they started hunting her, her Fame figure had probably gone up quite a bit. And now Valeri-Urla had also been the subject of two galactic news stories in the last few days, which probably brought her Fame up even higher.

A sealed envelope was lying on the console reading “To Coruler Gnat La-Fin” in the language of the magocratic world. A stamp on the paper in the shape of two fighting jaguars corresponded to the coat of arms of the La-Varrez dynasty of mage rulers. I ran a scan and it revealed a data crystal inside.

“This was brought by courier from the space port,” Eduard Boyko explained. “They didn’t say what was inside. And another thing... Gerd T’yu-Pan asked me to tell you,” the trooper extended me a double-folded sheet of paper. “He said this all needs to be bought to strengthen our frigate’s boarding team. And ideally, the army of the Relict Faction also needs some additional equipment, even though it will ‘cost a huge amount.’”

I unfolded the paper and skimmed the contents. Targeting systems. Lenses to attach to soldiers’ helmets for various light spectrums and video cameras. Screens for the commanders to monitor the battle. Reconnaissance drones. Fire support drones. Bomb-defusing robots. An “anti-sniper” system (for some reason with a note written in different hand that we specifically needed the HH-510, a Trillian product, and with it an additional radar and three assault drones). At least six boxes of guided munitions and Geckho Avashi Shock plasma grenade-launching systems. Chameleon cloaks (another note that those produced by the Relict Faction were not good enough, and it would be best to buy the kind made for Miyelonian special services). A Swarm system and at least three hundred microdrones...

Seemingly Fox’s training had paid off, the leader of my boarding team had learned some new tactics and saw a few ways of improving his team. Okay then, a beneficial undertaking even if it required expenditures.

Here my attention was drawn by a strange hum I could hear even through the space station’s many layers of sound-absorbing hull. I activated the instrument panel and turned on the external cameras. Woah! Right before my eyes, a huge silver Kituvaru trade ship came in for a landing — something of a bulbous flying saucer over two hundred thirty feet in diameter. The freight ship’s high-powered thrusters allowed it to take off even from planets with increased gravitation and transport tens of thousands of tons of cargo at a time. One such ship could replace three hundred Shiamiru cargo shuttles on a trade route. I knew all that because my friend Uline had told me about the Kituvaru on several occasions in hushed tones — that ship was the dream of her entire life, a symbol of affluence and a successful career as an interstellar trader. I wondered what cargo the giant was hauling for Earth factions. Or was it maybe bringing gifts for the newlyweds?

I also noticed that the relatively small spaceport was now totally mobbed with ships. Other than the huge Kituvaru that already landed, there were another dozen or so starships that were here before. Elite high-speed space yachts. Landing modules from liners. Courier shuttles. Small passenger starships. An Elimaro fire-support frigate — a fairly new design from Geckho military inventors, something of a “pocket battleship” with fearsome cannons and high maneuverability. Such frigates, made to provide supporting fire to larger-class ships, as far as I knew, had only been produced at Geckho docks in small numbers, less than fifty so far. And so it came as a surprise to find such a striking ship stationed at Earth’s spaceport.

The communication system switched on. The spaceport sent a message saying the Viceroy of Earth knew Kung Gnat had entered the game and an antigrav had taken off to come whisk me away to the festivities. I was also asked to hurry because the wedding ceremony was supposed to start any minute.

Five minutes later, I hopped out of the antigrav and, trying not to show my surprise, shook the hand of a Human-3 Faction Diplomat I knew well. Gerd Ivan Lozovsky was looking as impeccable as ever. Wearing a suit that was perfect for the occasion and fit his lanky frame just right, his hair was done up neatly. He also was wearing a satin yellow sash over his shoulder, which also looked fitting and probably had some meaning.

“This means ‘guest on the groom’s side,’“ Ivan Lozovsky explained when he saw my interest in the sash. “By the way, you’ll get two sashes: a yellow and a red because you were also invited by the bride. But to my eye, they should just give you an orange one rather than draping you in garlands like a Christmas tree.”

Ivan Lozovsky was smiling and joking around, but still I could sense a timidity he wasn’t normally prone to. I also saw shades of uncertainty and embarrassment slip through on the Diplomat’s face. In the end, Ivan himself decided to fill me in:

“Well, well, a Kung already... I admit, I wasn’t expecting you to take off to such heights. Congratulations! And I was also made aware that you were the one who pleaded with the curators to secure my freedom.”

“Yes, that is true,” I confirmed to the amnestied player. “But it’s really the Viceroy you should be thanking. Kosta Dykhsh was constantly bringing it up and advocating for you.”

We had to temporarily stop talking because a Geckho lady walked up to us looking fussy and twitchy in a color-changing suit and wearing a broad red satin sash across her whole chest. For some reason, she didn’t have a name, class or level over her head. With no warning and without saying a thing, she grabbed me with her big huge paws and squeezed me with such fearsome might that I actually had to activate my Listener suit’s forcefield to save my ribs and stop my Hitpoints from constantly crawling down.

“What an amazing gift! Uline couldn’t be happier!” the stranger finally broke the silence, rumbling happily, then put me back on the ground and ran back over to the other guests.

Authority increased to 109!

What the heck was that?! My Gnat just lost twenty percent of his hitpoints out of nowhere! I ran a perplexed gaze over the crazy and unbelievably strong Geckho woman.

“Your friend Uline Tar’s great aunt,” Ivan Lozovsky explained when he saw my bafflement. “Hides her game figures, but I suspect they’re sky high. She’s the head of the Tar-Layneh clan of star traders, a very influential and rich woman. She caught me today in the hallway of the Viceroy’s palace and tortured me with a long interrogation, asking all about Dagestan and how to send the hairstylist there. Boy he really was getting on everyone’s nerves with his crazy whims.”

I laughed despite the pain I could still feel in my right side. It probably wasn’t a fracture, but something was definitely sprained. And it was scary to think that it was just my first interaction with one of the eight hundred guests who had come to this wedding. I was just left to hope that Uline Tar and Kosta Dykhsh’s other relatives wouldn’t strangle me in their outpourings of emotion...

* * *

THE BRIDE WAS VIRTUALLY unreachable. Gerd Uline Tar was decked out with a curly hairdo and glimmering silvery fur that had fanciful emerald patterns winding through it. And she was stuffed into a complicated airy construction made of ribbons, imperceptible wires, and variously colored little bulbs. Despite all the capital-city stylist’s quirks, he knew what he was doing, and the bride’s beauty was both striking and marvelous. Uline’s short height (for a Geckho, of course) and lemon-yellow eyes were expertly emphasized and displayed with obvious dignity. There was a dense crowd of relations constantly circling around the newlywed and I didn’t risk sticking my nose in, just waved a hand at Uline from afar.

There were three more Tamara the Paladin crewmembers among the invited guests: the twin brothers Vasha and Basha, as well as the corpulent Supercargo Avan Toi. I didn’t quite know why Uline didn’t invite the other two Geckho from our crew: Ayukh the Navigator and Taik Rekh the Gunner. She must not have felt quite so close to them. I did see one other possible explanation though — tensions or maybe even open conflict between clan Tar-Layneh or Waideh-Dykhsh and the clans those two Geckho hailed from.

Overall, there were lots of possible complications with the guest list, which was meticulously checked over by Geckho on both sides and trimmed significantly. Of the over seven thousand potential guests, just eight hundred had been approved. And one of Uline’s relatives clued me in as to why Uline’s close friend and roommate Ayni didn’t get an invite (though I must admit, his confusing explanation left me in the dark as to his relation to my furry friend). The Geckho man really opened up to me and, slurring, admitted that Gerd Uline Tar was planning to invite Gerd Ayni Uri-Miayuu the Miyelonian to her wedding up until the very last moment. Her relatives tried to talk her out of it, saying a member of a different race coming to such a family gathering could create unexpected problems. Nevertheless, the bride was insistent. However, the shocking surveillance footage from the Kasti-Utsh III restaurant where Ayni disemboweled a Geckho was finally a good enough reason to get Ayni crossed off the guest list.

That made it all the more surprising that a place was found at the party for Ivan Lozovsky and me, despite them being so finicky with the guest list. And that made me think a bit harder about the Earth faction Diplomat — after all, something had made the Viceroy insist this man be invited to his wedding even though other races, as I’d just heard, were not especially welcome at “Geckho only” events. I was somewhat easier to explain — in one way or another, I was Kung of Earth and a close friend and business partner of the bride. As a matter of fact, I was the only guest to get an invitation from both sides and, to signify that, I was wearing both a yellow and a red sash crisscrossed over my dark armor.

What did Ivan Lozovsky and I do during Uline’s wedding? Party of course, for one. We hollered congratulations and drank with the other guests. For another, we talked informally with glasses of wine about the relationship between our factions. But above all else, we were both working. There were influential players all around us who owned a collective trade fleet numbering in the thousands of starships and, taken together, they possessed truly limitless capital. We had to take advantage of the rare opportunity and make some useful acquaintances. Furthermore, I was keeping in mind the instructions of the Miyelonian ruler Kung Keetsie-Myau, in particular when she said I should be looking out for a good opportunity to speak privately with Viceroy Kosta Dykhsh about the future of planet Earth.

And I managed to complete both of those tasks. A few of the guests were Tar-Layneh weapons traders, so I was able to sign a purchase contract for everything T’yu-Pan needed right at the party table. Total price: two and a half million crystals, delivery to Earth’s spaceport within four days. I also worked out the broad strokes of a key contract to reequip the entire Relict Faction army with the very best in space weaponry. But its price stung badly, so I decided I would mull it over before I signed.

Beyond that, I acquainted myself with the owner of twenty passenger liners that traveled this sector of the galaxy. And that included the one Valeri-Urla had flown off on. The final destination of the Tailaxian’s ticket was the Shiharsa system. That I had learned from the spaceport dispatchers. But there were six midway stops and I had serious suspicions she might get out early to make herself harder to track. It wasn’t normally done but, as a gesture of friendship, they promised to look into it and tell me which space station she got out at.

And finally, I found the perfect opportunity for a private conversation with the Viceroy of Earth. I spotted him all alone with no wedding guests circling and went over.

“Gerd Kosta Dykhsh... Look at you! Viceroy, shall I congratulate you on the promotion? Or for your clan is it the opposite, and fame is not welcomed?”

Gerd Kosta Dykhsh immediately tensed up and gave a dismayed rumble, then looked around and made sure there were no other guests nearby. After that, he quietly asked:

“How do you know about clan Waideh-Dykhsh? As far as I know, our background is not to be found in a single search engine in the galaxy. And my relatives won’t have said anything.”

I shrugged my shoulders and said as if self-evident:

“Well, the thing is, I recently had a talk with Krong Daveyesh-Pir. And the great ruler of a spacefaring race told me about clan Waideh-Dykhsh’s complicated and not always thankful mission and explained what made your ancient clan have to periodically change name. I was also informed that you could tell me the asking price for an asset, which has fallen significantly in value since the Miyelonians exited the war. An asset which risks losing all value if the Union of Miyelonian Prides joins the war on the side of the Horde. And the probability of that happening is actually very high.”

As you see, I didn’t let slip a single false word. Outright lying in conversation with Diplomats is generally fraught with severe consequences — many of them, like Truth Seekers, have abilities and skills not only to hide their own thoughts, but also to expose blatant untruths. Yes, I had in fact recently had a talk with the ruler of the Geckho race. And a Great ruler had told me about clan Waideh-Dykhsh, though they were of a different spacefaring race. And in the end, putting those two true facts together made for a plausible tale, which the Viceroy didn’t doubt in the least.

The Geckho’s shoulders sagged wearily, immediately making it clear that this was a very difficult topic for him, a painful one even. With a sad glance at the raucous wedding party and guests making toasts to his health, Kosta Dykhsh suggested we take a stroll down the paths of the park surrounding his palace for a private conversation. Once we were a bit farther from the hustle and bustle, the Viceroy started his tale:

“Kung Gnat, given you already know everything, let’s be frank. Yes, ever since your planet was discovered by long-distance Geckho scout ships it was clear it made an interesting asset, but one we would have a very hard time holding onto after the game and real world synchronized. Its distance from Geckho core territories and military bases, coupled with its proximity to the holdings of the Miyelonians and Meleyephatians all made your homeworld like a heavy suitcase with no handles[2], as your people like to say. It would be a shame to just leave it, but it’s also hard to carry. And that was the reason Krong Daveyesh-Pir sent a member of clan Waideh-Dykhsh to Earth. I was tasked with determining whether it would be at all possible for the Geckho race to hold your planet. Many of my relatives are here now. In fact, my entire clan is working on Earth. And your satellite the Moon as well.”

I tensed up internally and nevertheless asked the question that made the Viceroy so nervous the last time: what exactly were the Geckho doing on my home planet? Why such guarded secrecy that even humans were not made aware of the many large construction projects being undertaken on our home planet? Why were some parts of the real world now off limits to humans?

This time the Viceroy reacted calmly, and told me the answer:

“There are several reasons. First of all, the unstable bifurcation of two worlds is a rare spatial anomaly. And it isn’t certain what will happen when they come crashing back together. That brought the price up a lot. Judge for yourself, Gnat my friend: even one planet suitable for settlement or resource extraction is of interest, especially one already populated by an intelligent vassal race. And when there are potentially two such planets, and it is within the suzerains’ power to guarantee the right outcome and have both worlds emerge with no grand cataclysm, the price does not merely double as you might think. It goes up five to seven times. But that will also increase its attractiveness to possible aggressors by an order of magnitude...”

Although I was somewhat surprised by the Viceroy’s calculations, I still didn’t ask any questions. Obviously the value of a planet (or two neighboring planets) depended on population, and that relationship was nowhere near linear. Furthermore, having twice as many ground troops or starships would make it easier to defend both worlds and the star system overall. And any trading or industrial enterprise would have twice as many potential buyers, which was also a plus.

I probably could have thought up more explanations for the elevated price, but what Kosta Dykhsh said next made me forget not only those calculations, but everything else in existence:

“Furthermore, you now have the right to know that my compatriots are installing transport portals all over your virtual planet — they will come in handy no matter how this shakes out. If we can keep Earth within the Geckho sphere of influence, then we can instantly transport resources gathered here to Geckho industrial centers. But if we do decide to get rid of you, your new masters can come to Earth through these same portals. Yes, Kung Gnat. This is grand space politics, and the great spacefaring races will horse trade for a valuable asset without considering its native inhabitants or their opinions. And so there will be an invasion even if your grand plan to construct a planetary shield is completed before the end of the half tong of safety you have left.”

Chapter Thirty-Two. The Price of Freedom

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THE SHOCKING NEWS made my jaw drop. Even if we could build all twelve of the expensive and extremely hard to assemble planetary shield generators in time, they would not save Earth from an onslaught of space invaders! So all my efforts were in vain? My arms just sagged... And then Gerd Kosta Dykhsh decided to finish me off with one final admission:

“And by the way, you didn’t have to pester me with this question. Your former boss Gerd Ivan Lozovsky has long been aware of everything happening on Earth ever since he and I flew together to planet Shiharsa. Ivan supports my work fully and is doing everything in his power to keep Earth in the Geckho sphere of influence. Or at least as to see it handed off to new masters with as little bloodshed as possible.”

Gerd Kosta Dykhsh’s communicator gave a beep, he listened to the incoming message and commented:

“The guests are starting to miss us. Time to get back to the party. As for your main question...” the Geckho Diplomat fell silent and stroked his nose in thought. “I know, Leng Gnat that you have reached out to the Trillian royal dynasty, and that you’re also in communication with the Meleyephatian Horde and the Miyelonians. Well, you can tell them unofficially that the rights to your planet in this indefinite state will cost one billion three hundred twenty million crystals. If you can find a buyer, the Geckho would be happy to be rid of this suitcase with no handles — it’s become a burden. We will then transfer all the transport portals to the new masters and even explain how to extract two planets in antiphase into the real world at the moment your space synchronizes. Although to make that precise outcome occur, your alliance, or some other one bringing together factions of both alternative Earths must be in control of more than fifty percent of the game nodes on the planet. Otherwise, only one of the worlds will remain, the one with the most representation in the game that bends reality. And another thing...” the Viceroy stopped sharply and turned to me, “even if ownership is transferred, you’ll still have to provide troops for the Geckho draft! Kung Waid Shishish is not the least bit connected to the sale of Earth. He is a military leader and unaware of all these behind-the-scenes negotiations. So the fifty thousand soldiers Krong Daveyesh-Pir promised him for the Third Strike Fleet must be received in any case. They are of principal importance for us to have any chance in this war!”

I nodded to show him that I understood. The Viceroy sighed with relief — evidently my amenability in this issue made him happy, and even caught him off guard. And my willingness to cooperate earned me another portion of information:

“Gnat my friend, let me tell you a little secret that could help humanity in the war with the Meleyephatian Horde. The Commander of the Third Strike Fleet plans to send the human army to the comet Un-Tau.”

Seeing that the name said nothing to me, the Viceroy gave a detailed explanation:

“Un-Tau is bar-none the most important pilgrimage center for Meleyephatian religious leaders. Before the ceremony conferring high office, all their priests and theologists are obliged to undergo a purification ritual there, a location sacred to the Meleyephatians. The large icy comet is basically considered the origin point of all life in the Universe, although I can’t say I know that for sure. I don’t know the Meleyephatian religion very well. In any case, for Meleyephatians, Un-Tau is like Jerusalem or Mecca for your civilization, or Pa-lin-thu for the magocratic world. And the Miyelonians left the war in no small part because they seized their enemy’s holy site in a surprise attack and threatened to blow it up. And so, the idea of copying that attack, of course, was obvious. However,” the Diplomat breathed a heavy sigh, “the Horde quickly learns from its errors and is most likely prepared for things to go that way. I suspect there are now more Meleyephatian troops on Un-Tau than ever before, and the army of Earth will have a very difficult time. But in any case, you will tie up a large part of the Meleyephatian Horde’s forces, which will allow the Geckho to make counterattacks elsewhere. And I am not even asking you to keep this information a secret. In fact, tell everyone that you will soon be making an attack on Un-Tau. Let this news spread far and wide so it reaches the Horde’s agents. The more Meleyephatian forces are tied up on Un-Tau, the more successful the Third Strike Fleet will be!”

Yeesh... us humans were being sent into a meat grinder to distract our opponent. In any case I thanked the Viceroy for the important information, and we made our way back to the noisy party with its flashing lights. And we were already out of the park when Gerd Kosta Dykhsh told me:

“By the way, Gnat my friend, you might find this interesting as well. The Terrestrial Coalition, which you have introduced a trade embargo against, has successfully made mercantile and political contacts with the Esthetes. The Esthetes are vassals of my race. They own a couple star systems a few days’ flight from Earth and have a fairly serious space fleet. And the Terrestrial Coalition is... or rather was until you cut off their connection to the spaceport, negotiating with them for a military alliance and aid for Earth. And mind you the human representative naively believed they were doing this in secret, behind the Geckhos’ backs. The Esthetes, though, are in fact loyal vassals of ours and told their suzerains immediately about the very questionable contacts. But overall, the idea of bringing the fleet of the Esthetes into the Solar System before your planet’s safety expires is a very smart one. Some friendly advice — take over these negotiations. You’ll probably have more success than the leaders of the Terrestrial Coalition, who have very little understanding of space politics and don’t have enough Authority to command respect.”

* * *

WE WENT BACK TO JOIN the other guests. The party was still in full swing, but my thoughts were now occupied by something else and I was no longer in the right mood. The Esthetes, Un-Tau, the price of Earth... the conversation with Gerd Kosta Dykhsh just kept replaying over and over in my head. Okay, so the army of Earth was being sent into a meatgrinder. The Geckho weren’t even hiding it. But what then was I supposed to do?

To obediently lead people who trust me into a bloodbath like a Judas goat leading a group of sheep into an abattoir? This of course was a virtual game, and no one risked real death. But nevertheless, it was a pity to serve as nothing more than human targets for the defenders of Un-Tau. Should I use the last few days to better prepare my doomed-from-the-get-go army? Just so they could hold out a bit longer? Or should I instead do the opposite — say to hell with training and buying expensive equipment, then just get the whole unpleasant procedure over with as quickly as possible? The sooner we die, the sooner we’ll resurrect back on Earth!

Or maybe should I... the thought actually frightened me... bring the most powerful munitions I could find on the open market to the Meleyephatian holy site? Or even take advantage of my recent acquaintance with the Tar-Layneh weapons trader and buy some high-powered thermonuclear or antigravitational munitions that would be out of reach to mere mortals? And when I got to the comet, gain a foothold on the surface at any cost then send an ultimatum to the defenders, threatening to blow their holy space rock to kingdom come?

A ruckus broke out and the cries of joy caught my attention. I turned around. The head of clan Tar-Layneh walked out onto an improvised stage, the same woman who’d nearly strangled me in her embrace when we first met. Her speech, unlike the ones that came before it, was very brief. The clan leader said the relatives of the bride had conferred and shelled out for a brand-new merchant starship fresh off the production line, a Kituvaru. Uline Tar’s gift had already arrived and was at the local spaceport.

I shuddered in surprise. That must have been the starship that landed right before my eyes six hours ago! Back then, I actually thought it was transporting some massive gift for the newlyweds. But the idea that the huge and noisy Kituvaru itself might have been the gift for my friend Uline Tar I could never have even imagined. This thing was worth... forty-five if not a whole fifty million crystals! It was nice to know that my business partner’s relatives had finally seen her true value. On the other hand... — the unhappy thoughts that piled in after that made me breathe a heavy sigh. Once my friend Uline Tar got the starship of her dreams, she would start working on her own and become a Free Captain. With her knowledge and wealth of experience, Uline Tar would make good. I though would lose a loyal friend and experienced Trader. And another thing. If I thought about it, Uline Tar’s friends would follow her — the twin brothers Vasha and Basha Tushihh as well as Avan Toi...

I don’t know what conclusions I might have come to, because just then someone walked up to me... Uline herself accompanied by some elegantly dressed and tipsy Geckho women I didn’t know. The bride herself had already changed out of the strange construction of lights and wires into a bright green airy dress that matched the pattern on her fur very well.

“Congratulations!” I pinned a happy smile to my face. “Both on your wedding and the brand-new starship. Your dreams have come true, Uline!”

“Yes, it came as a massive surprise. And a very pleasant one. I won’t hide it,” my friend made a happy rumble. “Then again, my relatives stayed true to form. Not all that long ago they wouldn’t shut up about how I had left the ‘war hero and aristocrat Uraz Tukhsh to go chasing after a mirage.’ And about how I was ‘following a reckless human who didn’t even have his own trade starship.’ And this gift is a clear hint that I’ve ‘played pirate long enough, time to start trading like all the other respectable Tar-Laynehs.’ They don’t care one bit about what I actually want.”

“And what is it that you actually want, Uline?”

The Geckho woman gave another satisfied rumble and, after turning around, pointed her companions to me:

“This is the guy I was telling you about. This is the main thing that differentiates my captain from everyone else. Gnat is interested in my wishes, my aspirations. My relatives, on the other hand, only make me do what they want. But I want to keep having adventures with Team Gnat. Something is telling me there will be plenty more interesting events and chances to earn monetary crystals to come. And the starship I got as a present...”

Uline considered it for a second, then made an unexpected offer:

“Kung Gnat, what say you charter my new starship?! It’ll be way faster and more profitable for you to transport parts for the forcefield generator with my Kituvaru than using a bunch of little Shiamiru shuttles. A cargo ship like that could haul all the essential equipment at once, and it could land wherever needed. You wouldn’t have to pack everything into containers and ferry it over from the spaceport. It will only require the minimum preparation to smooth out a landing site for the Kituvaru, and there you go — unload and get building! Then my relatives will be happy that their gift is going to good use and that I got my act together. Plus you’ll be saving millions on delivery.”

I knew Uline Tar wouldn’t price gouge me, and the offer really was advantageous because it would allow us to bring down overhead costs significantly. Out of the seventy-five million I was expecting to pay for each planetary shield generator, at least thirty million was in delivery and transportation costs from Kasti-Utsh III and other space stations to Earth’s spaceport and subsequent transportation via cargo ship to the building site. Instead of answering, I walked up to the huge furry woman, who towered over me by a whole two heads, and gave her a fiery embrace.

“Uline, you’re simply amazing!”

“I know,” she answered, visibly embarrassed. But now she was still my business partner and a member of Team Gnat. “And given I’m so amazing, and we agreed on you chartering the Kituvaru, would you please do me one personal favor. Girls, give us a minute, I need to have a whisper with my business partner.”

Uline waited for all her friends to walk away, then continued at half volume:

“Gnat, I’m sure you remember my would-be groom Uraz Tukhsh — the quarrelsome captain of that Shiamiru. Well now he’s taken a flight to Earth and come to crash my wedding! And although Gerd Uraz Tukhsh is a war hero with a purple ribbon of honor, security is keeping him off the grounds of the Viceroy’s palace. I insisted. I just know his vile character all too well — he came to stir up trouble and ruin my party. Now that aristocrat is sitting outside the gates just hammered, hurling insults at nearby guests and demanding to talk with me. And the last thing in the universe I want on my wedding day is to talk with that loser, make myself a nervous wreck and hear him sniveling again. Make him leave and stop embarrassing me in front of my guests! Use psionics or persuasion, or just pop him one to the snout. Do whatever it takes; I don’t want to see him here! Unfortunately, I can’t ask any Geckho for such a delicate favor — Gerd Uraz Tukhsh is a respected and high-profile player, and most importantly holds the highest military decoration of my race, given straight from the paws of our ruler Krong Daveyesh-Pir. But you aren’t a Geckho, so you can pretend you didn’t know. In short, Kung Gnat, if his face takes a hit, I won’t be too bothered!”

“It would be my greatest pleasure, Uline! I myself have lots of questions for that aristocrat. I just never found the time to ask them!”

* * *

I FOUND MY FORMER CAPTAIN Uraz Tukhsh right where Uline said — sitting just outside the gates on the dirty ground, which was wet after a recent rainstorm. The badly intoxicated Geckho was holding an open bottle of the H3 beverage “produced by time-honored techniques” in one hand and, in the other, a sloppy and shabby bouquet of some odd white and orange flowers, seemingly not even from Earth. Two empty bottles of vodka were lying at my former captain’s feet. Meanwhile the Aristocrat’s clothes were... I was actually disturbed. Not quite in tatters yet and, by the cut, I could even guess they had once been a spaceman’s jumpsuit. But even the super-resilient thread and resistant dyes couldn’t withstand the harsh treatment they’d been subjected to. Had Uraz Tukhsh fallen into a barrel of solvent or something? Or did he stow away on a ship to Earth by hiding next to the reactor?

Decent players would be ashamed to be seen in such tattered threads, which seemed to be decaying before my very eyes. And on top of all those torn rags was a pale purple ribbon, washed out and stained with dark spots. On closer inspection, I was able to make out embroidered aphorisms of ancient Geckho military leaders on it. By all appearances, that was the ribbon of honor he had been awarded from the very paws of the leader of the Geckho race. In pretty rough shape, of course...

I was also embarrassed to see Uraz Tukhsh’s low level — just seventy-four. I must admit, I couldn’t remember for certain what level the loser captain was when I first met him in the spaceport on Earth. Around fifty or sixty. To me, a level-nineteen Prospector at the time, the Geckho seemed huge and fearsome. But that meant in nearly three months of playing, he had gained twenty levels at most, while my character had outgrown him long ago.

Honestly, I came over with the firm intention to carry out Uline’s request and chase off my friend’s former admirer by force if necessary. However, the sight of Gerd Uraz Tukhsh, disgraced and inspiring nothing but pity, shocked me. All my fury just evaporated. I stopped a few steps away from my old acquaintance and greeted him in full accordance with Geckho etiquette:

“Kento duho, Gerd Uraz Tukhsh!”

“Uh, Gnat...” the level-74 Aristocrat said, raising his eyes, swollen from drunkenness and lack of sleep. “So they let you in, eh? And you even got a red sash... That means Uline invited you herself. But look at me, she doesn’t even want me in there. That bitch! And meanwhile I flew all the way out here... Just so you know, when I found out she was getting married, I raced halfway across the galaxy to get here. I came as fast as I could. I spent up my last dime on this trip. And now I’m sitting out in the rain like she doesn’t even know me...”

“What happened to you, captain?” I interrupted his stream of whining with a question.

“What happened?” I heard a tinge of poison and malice in his voice. “What happened is that life is unfair! Two guys can perform the exact same feat of heroism and one gets rewarded with a fully-crewed combat starship, while the other...” the drunk fell silent midsentence and frantically clutched his dirt-caked purple ribbon, tugging at the esteemed decoration and leaving even more smudges of dirt, “gets just this stupid ribbon! But it should have been the other way ‘round! I was the one who lost his starship in the suicidal attack on Ursa-II-II, not you! And I was supposed to get a frigate as compensation, not you!!!”

By the end of his speech, Uraz Tukhsh was howling, lamenting the injustice of fate. But his lamentation didn’t bother me much. Even back then I thought the cowardice and pathological greed Uraz Tukhsh displayed in the Ursa-II-II system, which very nearly caused the collapse of the Geckho Third Strike Fleet’s whole combat operation, should have earned him a hearing in a military tribunal. But instead he was portrayed as a hero and given the highest decoration of the Geckho race. Furthermore, Uraz Tukhsh didn’t even appreciate what he got.

And so, letting all his pitiful whining go in one ear and out the other, I asked:

“As far as I remember, that Shiamiru was just a way for you to prove yourself so your relatives would trust you enough to give you a holding. Isn’t that so?”

“Yeah right, a holding...” the Geckho, sitting on the ground, spat in disgust. “Sounds pretty great when you say it. In reality, I got ten decrepit shellfish aquaculture farms. And fifty good-for-nothing roustabouts whose ingenuity all went into inventing newer and better ways of robbing their master blind. And restoring those farms would have taken serious money. But where was I to get that? I sold my ‘holding’ to a neighbor for peanuts the day I got it and flew back into space to try my luck again. But then...”

Gerd Uraz Tukhsh waved his hand in frustration just like a person. Evidently, his second attempt to “prove himself” had ended just has poorly as his first. I then, after patiently listening to the captain’s story, asked a question that had long been on my mind:

“I’ve been thinking for a long time about which Geckho could have hated me — a player almost no one knew about — badly enough to order bombs planted on my brand-new frigate. And only one name comes to mind...”

Before I was even finished, he had already started making a rushed confession:

“Yeah, yeah. It was me. I asked a good friend who works as a military repairman to plant the bombs. I promised him good pay. Because it wasn’t fair — that Meleyephatian frigate should have been mine! Although... this isn’t all about the frigate. If Gnat the lucky devil lost his ship, my ex-girlfriend Uline Tar would have come back to me and joined my crew. And now this wedding,” the Geckho pointed at the gates and residence of the Viceroy, “would be between me and Uline! And that big whopping silver Kituvaru sitting at the spaceport in all its glory would also belong to me! And it was you Gnat, with your conniving words, that took my Uline Tar away from me! It’s all your fault!”

Danger Sense skill increased to level one hundred two!

Well, well! I must admit, I wasn’t expecting the obliterated drunk, who was sitting flat on his rump just a moment ago, to be standing at my side half a second later towering at least three feet above me. Nor was I expecting in that brief moment for a spiked brass knuckle to appear on the paw of the hulking and aggressive Geckho. And... so that’s how the new improvement of my Listener armor suit works!

I don’t know if I’d have been able to react without all the sophisticated Relict technology. But the big huge fist baring down on the crown of my head stopped abruptly just a few inches away. Seemingly, although the effect was diminished because I didn’t fully meet the requirements, the armor modification had just triggered!

And though I was surprised, I was able to lean back fast enough for the deadly weapon pass in front of my face. Then I pulled off the same trick another two times, getting a grip on all the ins and outs of the Tachyon Bender. Cool! I’m basically Neo in the Matrix! Just under a second of additional time was not all that much, but it was enough of a head start to feel invulnerable in a fight with Uraz Tukhsh and dodge every one of his blows.

Just to be clear, he attacked me first. Any of the guards coming out of the gates just then could confirm. So I no longer needed to handle the nutjob drunk with kid gloves.

“Where’s your respawn point?” I asked in an even tone as the Geckho goon swung his fists right in front of my face to no effect.

No answer followed. Just a new string of curses and a few more attempted blows. But I didn’t need to hear a thing. I had already read the information in my rival’s thoughts — his respawn point was “in the Kauzi-La system, on my brother’s estate.” That meant Uraz Tukhsh would be respawning on a distant planet five days’ flight from Earth. And so, he wouldn’t be coming back to the wedding and would not be bothering the newlyweds or wedding guests anymore. I took out my Annihilator and shot the loser captain right in the head. “Messed up his face,” as I promised Uline.

Rifles skill increased to level sixty-seven!

Sharpshooter skill increased to level fifty-four!

You have reached level one hundred seven!

You have received three skill points (total points accumulated: six).

The Aristocrat’s legs buckled; his headless body splatted with a heavy thud right into a roadside puddle. Spatters of mud flew at me and... the spray of droplets froze in midair. And the full second of delay was easily enough for me to jump out of the way. Wow, really cool! Now the Tachyon Bender was working at full capacity, and I basically felt like a superhero. Looks like I’m ready to take on Fox now! I don’t know what the Morphian could possibly bring into play to hurt me like this!

I hunched down over the corpse. It felt wrong and even blasphemous that the highest decoration of the Geckho race should be in such unpresentable shape and on top of that lying in a puddle of mud. But my hand went right through it. I see. I wasn’t born yesterday. The purple ribbon did not drop as loot. But the disheveled bouquet did, its white and orange petals already starting to fall off. I picked it up, gave it a skeptical look and walked over to the palace guards, who came out of the gates while Uraz Tukhsh and I scuffled:

“The uninvited guest is gone now and will not be bothering any more guests. The bride’s former admirer had one last thing he wanted to give to her — this shabby bouquet, so I guess we should probably honor that...” I looked skeptically at the gift again and tried to arrange the flowers a bit neater, but I was not able to give the bouquet a more presentable appearance. The flowers’ only response to my manipulations was to lose even more petals.

Danger Sense skill increased to level one hundred three!

Something was wrong with this bouquet. Apparently, it wasn’t sentimentality or old feelings moving Uraz Tukhsh when he stubbornly wished to meet his former girlfriend. Maybe these flowers had some insulting meaning to the Geckho and could cause serious conflicts with the guests and newlyweds. I suddenly reconsidered giving the bouquet to the newlyweds and tossed it into some bushes.

“No, I guess we shouldn’t. Looking like the thing, it would no longer be a gift but a token of decayed feelings. It would only upset the bride,” I explained to the guards.

I refused their offer to provide me a shuttle to the spaceport and started walking down the road. I wanted to go on foot so I’d have a chance to think over all the recent news in the evening silence, and at the same time get some air to stave off a sudden bout of dizziness and nausea. Obviously, no matter how I tried to limit myself, I must have overindulged a bit at my best friend’s wedding.

Chapter Thirty-Three. Three-Barbed Parasites

––––––––

I NEVER DID END UP reaching the spaceport on foot. I made it around half a mile before suddenly my legs buckled and I nearly fell to the ground. I was forced to sit and summon a Sio-Mi-Dori to bring me the rest of the way to my ship. And to make matters worse, I was feeling lousier all the time. A wave of nausea rolled over me. I was hoping I didn’t eat some Geckho food that was toxic to humans. After all, the Geckho had good reason to be so reluctant to invite members of other spacefaring races to their festivities. Among other things, we had different metabolisms.

By the time the silvery antigrav appeared in the sky, I was sitting on the wet grass with no strength at all and a totally drained Endurance Point bar, contemplating a pesky bright red message that just wouldn’t go away:

ATTENTION!!! Your character is ill. You have received a negative effect: minus two Hitpoints per second.

And although my high-level character had more than two thousand five hundred hitpoints and could hold out for more than twenty minutes, and I had food and Miyelonian cocktails to refill my life, there was still little to be happy about. And worst of all — I didn’t see any time limit for the negative effect. What now? Would this illness and health loss last until my character died?

ATTENTION!!! Illness intensifying. Negative effect: minus three Hitpoints per second.

Damn! The illness wasn’t even thinking about going away. I asked the troopers from the ship to help load me into the aircraft, because I didn’t have the strength to pick myself up. I ordered the pilot to gun it over to Tamara the Paladin and summon the Miyelonian Medic at once. My memory of the Sio-Mi-Dori flight is fuzzy — I grew dizzier and my vision faded. My mind cleared up a bit when I was injected with a few ampules of strong hitpoint-restoring medicine from the standard army first-aid kit because my health bar was going down faster and faster all the time. Then I remember the spaceport field. I was quickly carried somewhere on a stretcher. At that time, my life was falling at a rate of fifteen hitpoints a second.

“Make way! Let me through to the captain!” I recognized the voice of the Miyelonian Medic Gerd Mauu-La Mya-Ssa and... lost consciousness.

* * *

I CAME TO MY SENSES on a hospital bed in my captain’s berth. Next to me the Medic’s “levitating coffin” hummed quietly with bundles of wires and IV tubes stretching from it to my body. The air smelled of rubbing alcohol and ozone. The disheveled orange Medic pulled back my eyelids one after the next unceremoniously. He even shined a bright flickering light into each of my pupils.

“Well, Captain Gnat, the worst is behind you,” Gerd Mauu-La Mya-Ssa told me in a perky tone when he saw that I was awake.

I glanced at all my bars in trepidation: health, endurance, mana and satiety. Three of them were at maximum, whereas my endurance bar was flickering worryingly, oscillating between one and two percent.

“But what the heck was that?” it was hard to talk. My mouth was bone dry, and my scratchy tongue could barely move.

“I wanted to ask you the same question, captain,” my furry healer chuckled. “How could you possibly have caught three-barbed non-mesogleal parasites on planet Earth? As far as I know, they are not found here naturally.”

I caught some extraterrestrial parasites? When did that happen? I tried to think back on recent events. Uline’s wedding. The starship. My fight with Uraz Tukhsh. The strange bouquet that set off my Danger Sense. Yes, that must have been it! The strange white and orange flowers, like irises but smaller and with lots of blossoms on every stem.

“These flowers?” the Miyelonian doctor turned on his palmtop, turned the screen my direction and showed me the image.

Yes, exactly! They were the very same flowers Uraz Tukhsh wanted to give his former companion. Which I immediately told the Miyelonian. The doctor nodded in satisfaction and eagerly brought me up to speed:

“A creature from the planet Rho-VII. They aren’t flowers in the sense you earthlings are familiar with. They are a complex predatory organism — both plant and animal at the same time. They can capture light and synthesize organic compounds but will also consume other beings for sustenance if given the opportunity. The bright and fragrant ‘petals’ are its weapon. Dangerous microscopic non-mesogleal parasites, somewhat reminiscent of your coelenterates, live on them at high concentration.”

“What kind of parasites now?” I latched onto the unfamiliar term.

Gerd Mauu-La Mya-Ssa seemingly was surprised by my thickness and explained:

“Non-mesogleal. They’re an intermediary biological class between single- and multicelled organisms. They do not have fully-fledged cell walls or intercellular area. Furthermore, their organelles are capable of migrating between ‘pseudo-cells,’ slipping through the membranes and strengthening the organism wherever needed. On your planet, as far as I know, there are no non-mesogleal organisms. But other galaxies are chalk full of such species. What am I even saying? The advanced spacefaring race the Cyanids just so happens to be such a species. Our physical education instructor Fox the Morphian is one too. How could you not know that?”

I had to explain to my ship medic that I had never been particularly strong in cytology, much less astrocytology. Gerd Mauu-La shrugged his shoulders, activating the dim screen again and continued his tale of the strange pseudo-flowers from a distant planet:

“The flowers hunt by dropping petals near potential prey. The microscopic creatures on the petals receive nourishment from plant fibers and juices of their host flower, but also take pleasure in devouring animal life. They exude a highly powerful toxin which kills phytophages from the planet Rho-VII in an instant. The dead organisms serve as food and fertilizer both for the flower and its ‘weapon.’ The toxin has a weaker effect on creatures from other planets. The Crystallids, who first discovered the planet Rho-VII are actually totally immune. They find the creature amusing and call them ‘striptease flowers’ for their ability to destroy the fabric of their clothing.”

When the Medic said that, it dawned on me. So that was what happened to Uraz Tukhsh’s clothing! But why then didn’t it work on the captain himself? Gerd Mauu-La also had an answer to that question:

“For Geckho, the parasites have quite a long incubation period. Somewhere around eighty to a hundred ummi. The disease is only expressed after that and ends in a torturous death. For Humans,” the Miyelonian Medic looked at me and ran his clawed fingers over a holographic keyboard that appeared in midair, seemingly entering new data into the reference guide, “contact with ‘striptease flowers’ causes a severe allergic reaction accompanied by high fever and nausea. Without quick intervention and medication, death sets in within a quarter ummi.”

I closed my eyes and lowered my head onto my pillow. What a scoundrel that Uraz Tukhsh was! If not for Uline Tar’s tough resolve, which stopped her from allowing her former admirer onto the grounds of the Viceroy’s residence despite all his admonishments, the wedding guests would have gone their separate ways without suspecting a thing, carrying the dangerous infection back to their respective home planets. By the way, speaking of infection...

“Am I infectious right now?” I asked what was probably the most important question. “And will my wife Gerd Minn-O suffer if she enters from the real and lands right in this room?”

But the experienced Medic seemed offended by my mistrust of his professional abilities and the very implication he could have been so intolerably reckless:

“No, of course not. I have injected a kind of antibiotics, which are guaranteed to kill these parasites. All individuals who came into contact with you have also undergone prophylactic treatment, as well as the antigrav, stretcher and all parts of Tamara the Paladin you passed through. By the way, that sanitary treatment actually made Fox have to temporarily stay away from our starship — that kind of antibiotics also works to great effect on Morphians. But I warned Fox, and the instructor thanked me for the precaution, asking me just not to go spreading the fact her race was so vulnerable to the substance.”

“What about my Endurance Points? Why aren’t they coming back?” That bar hadn’t changed during our talk and was still hovering just above zero.

“A side effect of the powerful antibiotics and other medicines I administered,” the Medic explained, looking at one of the figures he could see on the screen of the flying coffin. “Your microflora has been devastated. The toxins have not yet been fully expelled. Your body is severely weakened. So for the next ummi and a half I recommend bedrest. But after that I advise... no, not even. As your doctor, I PRESCRIBE intense physical exercise. Yes, Captain Gnat, it will be difficult. Especially at first. You may even pass out. But that is the only way we can accelerate your body’s cleansing process and get your Endurance Points going up again. Well... or you could also just die and respawn.”

I shook my head “no” — even though Gnat had hit level one hundred seven not so long ago, making the experience loss minimal, committing suicide was just not my way of solving problems. So, I voiced my firm decision:

“As soon as I’m done with bed rest, I will go practice and exercise alongside all the troops of the army of Earth!”

Authority increased to 110!

* * *

MY CHIEF ADVISOR GERD Mac-Peu Un-Roi was sitting on a spinning armchair next to my bed and recounting recent news. The military draft was going according to schedule, the army of Earth’s troop count was now over thirty-four thousand and rising. In fact, a thousand recruits had just arrived from the H7 Faction — the “second Chinese faction,” which had nodes on the big continent of the virtual planet. Contingents had arrived from twenty-three of the Directories of the magocratic world, while the remaining nine Directories had also signaled their willingness to cooperate and promised to send recruits. The ruler of the Second Directory General Ui-Taka had agreed to lead the unified army of Earth as well and he promised to choose assistants from among the most experienced commanders of both worlds.

A hundred soldiers had arrived today from the “North American” Human-8 Faction. And from what they said, we realized that the governments of Canada and the USA had decided to close the joint data-center in the Canadian province of New Brunswick and concentrate on their own factions, Human-12 (USA-1), Human-19 (USA-2) and Human-14 (Canada). The main reason was the inconvenient geographic position of the two H8 Faction nodes, distant from the Geckho spaceport and neighbors and hard to expand from due to the impassable mountains in the neighboring nodes. There had also been an overall drop in enthusiasm after their mental enslavement by psionics from the magocratic world. All that led to the decision to close the H8 Faction as an independent political unit, while its players were suggested to join other factions.

“Wait, wait...” I stopped my Chief Advisor. “So where does that leave us? The Human-8 Faction will soon be no more, but its troops are at our training camp. Will they not be leaving if they end up in one of the factions of the Terrestrial Coalition?”

“They will not, Coruler. More than half of the players of the disbanding Human-8 Faction have chosen to apply to join Relict. And that includes the ones at our camp, and even the head of the H8 Faction himself, Arthur McKinley, a level-83 Fisher. I have spoken with him. He says his decision was motivated by his gratitude to our faction for the help liberating them from mental slavery, and he considers us the most advanced Earth faction technologically and militarily. He only asks to keep control of his nodes if possible — too much effort was invested into building breakwaters, tunneling through mountains and shipping fertile soil to the previously barren mountain plateau.”

“So what’s the holdup? The Relict Faction could use two developed nodes on the opposite side of our little continent. Go talk with Gerd McKinley. Why take their players one at a time if we could just merge the remainder of the H8 Faction into ours along with their remote territories! We then will arrange to deliver goods and essentials to that distant shore. Anything else important?”

“Yes, my Kung. Our Diplomat Leng Thomas Müller has conducted negotiations with the Chinese faction about the gas deposits. The outcome was positive, our neighbors have agreed to work jointly. They have even made a counterproposal to also work together on a high-speed thoroughfare linking our capital hexagons and passing through the gas node with an offshoot running to the spaceport. They have also expressed an interest in constructing one of the planetary shield generators on their territory. They promise to find the builders and technology for such an important project on their own.”

I nodded, approving of such a crucial step for the defense of Earth. And a road to the spaceport would also be important for both of our factions’ development. I just asked my Chief Advisor whether we had enough players to execute the plan. After all, very recently we had been discussing a lack of construction workers, and now our faction was suddenly planning to build a high-speed thoroughfare, which would require a good few players.

“We do not have the players yet,” Gerd Mac-Peu Un-Roi confirmed my fears. “But I have ordered accelerated recruitment of construction workers and engineers, so new ones are entering the game all the time. Furthermore, we will need many people for the new factories and production facilities we are building — with our current capacity, Relict Faction production capabilities are already stretched to the limit making vehicles, weaponry and gear for soldiers both of our and other factions. One other problem is that we are just about to hit the maximum player ceiling. But we are waiting for the six new hexagons to be built around the Laboratory of the former H25 Faction on the big continent. That will bring the limit up by fifteen hundred. Furthermore, the two nodes of the disbanding H8 Faction will also come in very handy. They will mitigate the limit problem even more.”

Yes, that was true. Furthermore, a few older nodes were about to level up so, in three or four days, the Relict Faction’s player limit would jump up to fifty thousand, and that would give us enough players to complete all our projects and plans. Meanwhile, the Mage Diviner continued his report:

“A large shipment of weaponry and equipment purchased by the Human-3 Faction for eight million crystals has arrived. Leng Tarasov has already picked it up from the spaceport. And there is still friction with the leader of the NPC Antiquity Faction, Phylira the Centaur mare, over the cost to employ her Centaurs and Minotaurs. Work on the southern peninsula has basically come to a standstill. After the NPC Dryad Nefertiti boasted to her forest buddies about the huge chunk of gold she earned for making one little ring, I’m afraid Phylira has absolutely lost contact with reality and her demands have become entirely inappropriate.”

Is that so? Looks like I’ll have to have a personal talk with Phylira. I had always found a common tongue with the striped mare in the past. Maybe I should go over there right now. Though the doctor did prescribe bedrest, I already felt much better. I tried lowering my legs off the bed and sitting up, but a few seconds later I was already forced to lie back down — even such minimal exertion made me dizzy and lose the few Endurance Points my character had managed to accumulate. Damn... How unfamiliar and uncomfortable it was to feel this weak and helpless!

Maybe out of a desire to distract me from the sad thoughts, the Mage Diviner hurried to change the topic:

“Everybody in the First Directory right now is talking about the coming of the Second Legion. Commander Rupor’s troops have secured the palace of the ruler and all the most important sites in the capital city. Including the perinatal center in Pa-lin-thu where Princess Minn-O La-Fin is now being kept. I don’t know all her medical details but, based on the fragments of information I do have, your wife is having a rough pregnancy. Her and the child have different blood types and Rh factors. The risk of complication is high. I checked the lines of the probable future. Overall, they are favorable either for your wife or future child, but... not one hundred percent, and it would be best not to bother Minn-O too often so she can stay calm with the appropriate care in the perinatal center.”

Something in my advisor’s words put me on guard, and so I unabashedly read his thoughts to figure out what the Mage Diviner was not saying.

“The fetus was saved but just barely. And there’s still a risk of miscarriage. First pregnancy, extreme toxicosis. The probability of a favorable outcome is just 62%. She needs constant care and monitoring of her condition. Any disturbance would be extremely negative. Minn-O is a player and must periodically enter the game that bends reality. The game has a beneficial effect on health, so the sessions should be made as long and frequent as possible. But contact with strangers and all other situations that could present a risk to her life must be limited.”

Damn... Nobody ever told me it was all so complicated and dangerous. I’d have to be sure and find Minn-O when she entered the game. My wife is going through a very hard and scary time. I have to reassure her and tell her how much I need her.

“The rumor that Gerd Tamara, leader of the uprising, is in the retinue of the ruler of the First Directory is also spreading,” my Chief Advisor continued. “Many claim to have seen the girl paladin at your side with their own eyes. That alone has caused a serious schism in the ranks of the insurgents. And now that the Second Legion is in the First Directory, many have taken that as further confirmation to the theory that Gerd Tamara is working for Coruler Gnat La-Fin. Furthermore, some hearsay has leaked that there might be big changes coming to the political structure of the magocratic world. All the magic dynasties are paralyzed and waiting anxiously for you to make a statement, Coruler Gnat La-Fin.”

“They’ll get their statement, and it’ll be broadcast to the whole planet. Don’t you doubt it!” I assured the Mage Diviner. “I just need to get up into space and reach the Pyramid Contact Hall in the mobile Relict laboratory...”

“There is one more worrying thing I must tell you. The probability of the Miyelonians joining the war against the Geckho is steadily increasing. I have been tracking the lines of the future, and the trend is frankly scaring me. I expect you won’t have to be reminded, Coruler, but that would be the most negative possible scenario for Earth.”

Yes, I understood that perfectly. Kung Keetsie-Myau’s patience wasn’t unlimited, and the ruler of the Miyelonian race would probably be expecting me to give her something concrete about the mobile Relict laboratory soon. The note she wrote on the table in my room served as a reminder that the Great One was so seriously concerned with the topic that she took valuable time out of her extremely busy schedule to personally come to my place and discuss all the details.

Here I suddenly remembered that I had completely forgotten about a letter I received recently — the sealed envelope from the La-Varrez Faction. I was in a hurry to Uline Tar’s wedding, I was too preoccupied, and I left the envelope lying on the operator’s console. I ran a scan right away, which confirmed it was still there. I turned on the loudspeaker and asked Copilot San-Doon, currently on the bridge, to bring the envelope to me.

A minute later, I broke the fragile flexible seal depicting two fighting jaguars and extracted a double-folded sheet of paper from the envelope:

Kung Gnat La-Fin!

This is a letter from the true legal head of the La-Varrez dynasty of mage rulers and the future leader of the same faction in the game that bends reality, Gerd Soia-Tan La-Varrez. I hope my relatives will soon confirm my right to the throne and my election as faction head. But if not, I have faith in your discretion, Kung and Coruler Gnat La-Fin, the mightiest mage on all the planet! I have something you will be very interested in. I know where your girl paladin Tamara really is. Respond with a time and place, and we can meet to discuss the possibility of mutually beneficial cooperation.

P.S. Alone, unaccompanied and in private.

P.P.S. You are a significantly more powerful psionic than me, so you could just take what you want, but I am counting on your decency. You have the reputation of a man that keeps his word.

Gerd Soia-Tan La-Varrez, true head of the La-Varrez dynasty and future coruler of humanity.

Chapter Thirty-Four. To Kill Fox

––––––––

WHAT A STRUGGLE... I set my alarm clock for four AM and went on foot from the space port to the neighboring Desert node, taking with me just one companion: my personal Bodyguard Gerd Imran the Gladiator. I trusted the Dagestani implicitly; he was a trustworthy and proven associate who would not go blabbing left and right if the Kung of Earth passed out or got nauseous. And beyond that, Imran was loaded down practically to the limit with medication and food prepared by our Chef-Assassin to accelerate my Endurance Point regeneration. I had the feeling I would need it all, and very soon.

Why did I depart at such an early hour? First of all, so I could reach the training camp before the blistering heat set in. And second, so nobody would just happen to pass me by in such a pitiful condition. And my condition truly was pitiful... At first, I could barely make it fifty steps before I had to stop and catch my breath or even fall to the ground in exhaustion. Meanwhile, I was starting to feel seriously unwell. All the food I got down immediately started trying to come back up. It took more than half an hour before I got past the first row of defensive laser batteries next to the Geckho spaceport.

In another hour and a half, I made it across the node boundary and reached the Desert. By that time, after a break, my Endurance Point bar was up to a whole eight percent. Better than the one and a half or so it would get to before. The Miyelonian healer turned out to be right — physical exercise really was helping me get better. But the cure was just proving so difficult!

I just so happened to be resting and wolfing down some food, hurriedly restoring my strength before another burst, when a whole thirty cross-country army trucks came racing past filled with heavy infantry and going toward the training camp: Shocktroops, Space Commandos, Grenadiers, Machinegunners. They didn’t recognize me — I had the Null Ring on and a track suit instead of my Listener Energy Armor, which was just too distinctive. However, Imran and I got a good look at the speeding players and exchanged surprised glances.

“Human-5 Faction... I haven’t seen them before. Who even are they?” asked my bodyguard after coughing out the dust kicked up by the army column.

“The French. And that’s very strange, because H5 is part of the Terrestrial Coalition.”

I changed into the ancient Relict armor suit (and I had replaced the Tachyon Bender with the air tank — I didn’t want to demonstrate the new ace up my sleeve too soon) and activated my radio, sending a message to the training camp about the odd guests. It was almost certainly not an attack — there weren’t enough of them for that. But nevertheless I had to get to the bottom of this. In particular to figure out how these guys had gotten to the spaceport, even though I had issued a clear prohibition against members of the Terrestrial Coalition visiting. The training ground guards confirmed receipt of the message and promised not to let the column enter the camp until they’d worked out the details.

Ten minutes later, when I was forced to take another break and sit down, greedily sucking air into my hot lungs, the answer came in a highly unusual form:

ATTENTION!!! The leader of the Human-5 Faction Leng Whaler-Stormbird proposes to include his faction in the military and political alliance Army of Earth. Do you accept? (Yes/No)

There we go! That was a crucial political success and reduced my enemy count as Kung of Earth. I had to be happy about that. Maybe it made sense to first get a better handle on what happened and why the plans of the Human-5 Faction had changed so abruptly, but still I opted for “Yes.” What mattered most was that it was clear the H5 Faction wanted to be on the side of the majority.

By the time I got to camp, my Endurance Points bar was back up to fourteen percent. Not a lot of course. But in comparison with before, it was serious progress. Tamara the Paladin walked up (you don’t have to be a brainiac to figure out who it really was) and sent a group invitation, then one more requiring I reveal my detailed character statistics. I don’t think I’d have trusted anyone else quite enough to do that, but here I understood it was necessary — one of the best instructors in the galaxy had to know how to make my character stronger.

Once the impossibly stern girl familiarized herself with my statistics, she shook her head skeptically.

“I get the feeling I’ll have to spend at least a week running with rocks on my back...” I tried to joke. But the Morphian responded to with a serious look:

“There’d be no point. You don’t have any skills that level by severe physical exercise, hurdle running or overfatigue. In fact, you’ve got quite a strange set of skills overall. I could of course crank up your Targeting, Rifles and Sharpshooter, but it doesn’t look like you really use them much.”

“I use Targeting. It has saved my butt in more than one critical engagement. But as for Rifles... it’s pretty much only so I can shoot the Annihilator point blank as a last resort.”

Pseudo-Tamara considered it, then announced:

“I have composed a levelling plan for you. I will cure your ailment and make you stronger as a psionic and telekinetic. Bear in mind, Kung Gnat, the program is oriented around four days of very intense exercise, so you won’t always be able to leave the camp. Plan your schedule accordingly. Starting from day three, you’ll be working with your crew. But I’ll be taking Imran for now — there are group exercises going on, and your friend stands to benefit greatly from participating as part of Team Gnat.”

The Gladiator nodded obediently, unloaded the bag of medicine and supplies and followed the Morphian’s instruction. When he was a bit away, Tamara said with sympathy:

“Let me warn you, Gnat. This will be very hard — I only teach one way — on the brink of survival. By the end of these four days, you will hate me with all your heart and want to kill me. And I will give you the chance to do so — killing me will be the graduation exam for you and your Team Gnat. One of my copies will be with you the entire time. It must be that way because I have high-level Instructor and Pedagogue skills, and the experience and skill-up speed will be increased sixfold. And to make your next few days just a bit brighter, I’ll make an exception and let you dictate my appearance. Okay, no need to say it aloud. I got it.”

A second later, before me was standing an anthropomorphized space fox. Waving her red tail to and fro’, seemingly to get accustomed to the new body, Fox pointed a clawed paw at the beginning of an obstacle course:

“Okay then, let’s get started! We’ll make a real fighter out of you! But before we begin, I strongly suggest you use your unallocated skill points — death will be circling around you constantly today, and it would be a shame to have those points burn up and disappear.”

* * *

ATTENTION!!! LEADER of the Human-8 Faction Arthur McKinley proposes unification with the Relict Faction on the following terms: the Human-8 Faction shall join the Relict Faction in its entirety. Do you accept? (Yes/No)

The message jumped before my eyes at the worst possible moment — it broke my concentration and made me miss an attack, taking a thrown rock right to the forehead. Ow! My hitpoints fell to the scarily low figure of 156 out of 2527, and I also got a warning I had been dazed and was bleeding, reducing my Hitpoints even more. One more blow would kill me but, despite all the difficulties and growing panic, I was able to instantly get it together and, using Telekinesis, dodge all of the next three projectiles hurled my way.

Danger Sense skill increased to level one hundred seventeen!

Telekinesis skill increased to level twenty-six!

Mysticism skill increased to level eighty-four!

Perception raised to 34.

Perception raised to 35.

The third and final Perception boost my Gnat could get. And after it, the bonus point I was counting on getting when spending my statistic points. The gash the rock left on my forehead was gushing blood over my face. And although I had a blindfold on, meaning my vision was not impaired by the blood, I still raised my right hand to ask for a break to dress my wounds.

“No stopping! Finish him off!” the “fox,” basking in the rays of the sun on a chaise lounge with a glass of cold juice, commanded the six Grenadiers — the highest level and strongest ones to be found in the whole army of Earth. The goons were arranged in a circle around me and had already been throwing heavy rocks at me like this for an hour, trying their damnedest to kill me. To make matters worse, the Morphian had blindfolded me because, and I’m quoting the instructor: “Your sense of sight is only getting in the way. For some reason, you humans only have eyes on one side of your head, so you won’t see all the rocks no matter what.”

What a sadist! At the very last moment I dodged a heavy stone and it went whistling by over my ear. I hurriedly drank down a couple medicines to restore health and bolster my regeneration. I stopped a flying rock just half an inch away from my left cheek with Telekinesis and realized I would not be able to repulse another, and thus was about to die. A moment later, my track suit was replaced with my Listener Energy Armor. The stone did in fact fly right into my head, but the forcefield absorbed the majority of the damage.

Medium Armor skill increased to level one hundred three!

Nevertheless, I fell over — what did get through was still enough to hammer away the last remnants of my Endurance Points and a portion of my Hitpoints. With the last of my strength, very nearly losing consciousness in exhaustion and overexertion, I thrashed all the Grenadiers with disorientation and paralysis.

Medium Armor skill increased to level one hundred four!

Mental Fortitude skill increased to level one hundred twenty-four!

Disorientation skill increased to level seventeen!

“Okay, let’s leave off there and take a three-minute break,” Fox stood up from the chaise lounge and even helped me to my feet. “Bring your health and energy back up, take your armor back off and get those drones out of here — I don’t like you peeking through their cameras. And now that you’ve learned to take control of six players at once, what say we add a seventh Grenadier!”

* * *

BY THE END OF THE FIRST day of training, my Gnat had leveled-up to one hundred eight. I immediately invested the three skill points into Danger Sense, bringing it up to one hundred twenty-five — that skill had saved my hide several times today, so it certainly wouldn’t be going to waste. The fact that I hadn’t once died all day didn’t seem to be to the instructor’s credit, but rather a shortcoming. Seven times I found myself in critical situations, just a second from going to respawn or saved miraculously by a mere two or three hitpoints.

Especially memorable was when I ran through a minefield. And no, the “carnival game of death” had not been made for me alone. Not at all. A large fenced-off part of the training camp had been given to the Sappers — they were learning there to set and remove mines of every shape and size. The other players then used the deadly area to train their Intuition, Danger Sense, Heavy Armor, Stealth, Light Foot, Regeneration and other skills. A few particularly nimble players were advanced enough to even level... Dodge! The intent of the task was simple to the point of primitive — by any means necessary, but as a rule depending on class and skills, they had to reach the opposite end of the explosion-plowed field. It came easiest to the Gladiators — a few instant leaps between safe positions (large boulders, fragments of concrete slabs or fresh craters made by recent explosions), and a couple no-longer-hazardous mines blasted off somewhere far behind them.

The first time I worked with army of Earth troopers was actually on the minefield, though I was wearing the Null Ring for anonymity. How could my Listener overcome the harrowing area? At first it was obvious: use Scanning and disarm all the dangerous traps with my Machine Control and Telekinesis skills. But the problem was that I had just fifteen minutes to complete the task. My scanning radius was two hundred thirty feet, and the skill’s cooldown time was around five minutes, while the mined area was five hundred yards wide...

I made it across in eleven minutes, relying on luck and intuition in a few confusing situations. In most places meanwhile, my high Perception and Eagle Eye skill allowed me to see exactly where the mines and other traps were, while a few dangerous objects I was actually able to detect by the smell of grease and combustibles. By the way, I was the only one in my whole thirty-person group to make it across the minefield alive.

Authority increased to 111!

“Alright, well done!” Fox praised me for the first time all day. “Although... the minefield is meant to be a team exercise, even though that was not explicitly stated. There were thirty of you and you had all the necessary professions and skills. If you played your cards right, you could have all survived, not just one of you. Think about that next time. And you can remove the Null Ring. Everyone in the camp is already aware the Kung is training alongside the others, so there is no longer any reason to hide it. The troops even know that you survived an assassination attempt and were severely poisoned, and that’s why you’re performing so poorly. And I see your Endurance bar has only gone up to forty-five percent... That’s my bad. Tomorrow I’ll have to ramp up the pressure.”

I couldn’t hold back and let out a pained moan, already tasting the next round of torments. But my moan only elicited a satisfied grin on the insolent fox’s snout:

“I warned you that you’d want to kill me. Just think how much worse it’ll be in three days! But for today, you’re free to go. Tomorrow you’ll have psionic training, and it would be nice if you could find one or a few mages to work with in a mental link. As far as I know, the pregnant Gerd Minn-O La-Fin will not be joining us. Valeri-Urla...” the Morphian didn’t finish, clearly having read my emotions. “Too bad. I’ve been wondering why she still hadn’t shown up on day three of training. And there are no other mages you trust enough to share your thoughts with. Okay then, you’ll work solo. By the way, there’s a human girl waiting at the gates of the training camp. She’s been there since morning. She’s too small to become a soldier in the army of Earth. But she’s also too stubborn to leave.”

* * *

A RARE OCCASION — I guessed right away. The thing was that, of all the players I knew in the game, none of them were children except perhaps Tini. And my Miyelonian ward was no longer really so young. He was nearly an adult. Furthermore, he didn’t exactly fit the description of “human girl.” The mysterious Gerd Soia-Tan La-Varrez? In the letter she didn’t leave any contact details, so I had no idea how I was supposed to get in touch with her to tell her the place and time of our meeting. Furthermore, yesterday my Chief Advisor was unable to recall a mage girl by that name in the ranks of the La-Varrez dynasty, which made him come to the astonishing conclusion that she was still too young to have shown her face at any serious events.

I was not mistaken. In the guardhouse at the entrance to the practice grounds, her legs crossed in a pretzel, was a light-haired girl sitting on a chair. She looked to be eleven or twelve and had the telltale ashen gray skin of a native of the magocratic world. By the way, this was the first time I had ever seen a person from the other world get a sunburn — every bit of skin on the child’s body not covered by her crop top and shorts was not so much ashen as rosy gray. And I could feel the pain she experienced with every little movement even from a couple steps away.

Gerd Soia-Tan La-Varrez. Human. La-Varrez Faction. Level-55 Psionic Mage.

“Why has this girl not been given medical attention?” I came at the two sentries, both members of the Relict Faction, but originating from my homeworld. I also could sense that the two guys were blatantly afraid of the little girl. Must have been because of her game class.

“Uh we... We just came on shift! The little mage was already sitting here...” the two guys realized right after I asked that something was wrong with her. “We’ll call a healer from the first aid tent right away.”

I shook my head doubtfully and refused. There was a Sio-Mi-Dori not far away, having just delivered another batch of recruits. It would take three minutes to fly to the spaceport, and my Medic was obviously more experienced and better qualified.

“Run along to the antigrav, I’ll get you to a doctor,” I ordered. But much to my surprise she balked:

“No, I’m not going anywhere. I need to see Kung Gnat La-Fin!”

What a stubborn girl! I pulled the Null Ring off my finger, allowing the little mage to read my character information. Based on the way her brows shot upward, and those of the sentries as well, none of them were expecting that twist.

“Well now you can say you’ve seen me. Now run along to the antigrav, we can talk on the way.”

While the Pilot started up the engines of the heavy vehicle, I checked with my new acquaintance:

“When will your relatives be coming to collect you? And where did you agree to meet them?”

Her response knocked me dead:

“They won’t be coming. I ran away. Coruler Gnat La-Fin, look at the requests to join your Relict Faction. There should be one from me.”

“Wait, wait, wait! Pilot, cut the engines! The last thing I need is to be accused of kidnapping.”

“No! Hear me out, Coruler! Going back to my family would be equivalent to death! My brother Sap-Po will kill me!!!”

Geeeeee... The more I heard the less I understood. What could she possibly have done to draw the ire of her brother, who seemed so calm and even contemplative? And the fact this tyke had Gerd status also surprised me. I asked Soia-Tan to tell me everything to the best of her knowledge. And meanwhile I told the Pilot to fly to the spaceport anyway, because this girl clearly needed to see a Medic. And Soia-Tan could also stand to eat something — I heard sorrowful howling from her empty stomach.

Well, she really was worth listening to. Soia-Tan turned out to be one of the most talented young mages the ancient La-Varrez dynasty of mage rulers had. Even her grandfather the Archmage and Coruler of Humanity Onuri-Unta La-Varrez had taken note of his granddaughter’s outstanding abilities and, despite her young age, had brought her into the game that bends reality. A rising star, the La-Varrez dynasty had pinned great hopes on her. Only her young age kept the talented kid from being named mage ruler. So far, as a mage, she had mainly done linked work — she was specialized in playing second fiddle to strengthen the main attacking mage, protect them and restore their mana in engagements.

“You probably don’t remember, Coruler Gnat La-Fin, but during the night battle for the La-Varrez Faction capital hexagon, I was standing behind Leng Onuri-Unta La-Varrez among other mages and protecting the faction head.”

To be honest, I didn’t notice. There were many mages in my opponent’s retinue at the time, and I was somehow paying more attention to the dangerous Archmage than his support. And meanwhile, the girl looked afraid I might find her uninteresting and cut her off and rushed to continue her tale.

She had a blessed childhood with respect from everyone around her. The title of Gerd was hers by the time she hit level forty-five. But all her dreams of a grand future came crashing down with the terror attack on the Palace of Rulers. The most powerful mages of her dynasty perished, while those that remained were at each other’s throats quarrelling over the throne of the Fourth Directory. And they quarreled with such ferocity that the number of dead in the infighting was now even higher than the death toll of the palace explosion itself.

Soia-Tan had spent a long time on the sidelines of those internecine squabbles, series of poisonings, late-night murders, and bombings of relatives’ virt pods. Still, she hadn’t stayed completely out of the game and just played dolls with her peers as you might think given her age. The opposite in fact. She was considered a powerful psionic and sent to fight the war against Tamara’s fanatic insurgent army.

But just then came the most intriguing and harrowing part of her story:

“One day, I saw our combat tiltrotors nab a column of rebels in the Au-Dau gorge. And I witnessed their slaughter with my own eyes. Tamara’s fanatics fought desperately. And they were well armed, too. They even had anti-aircraft systems. We sustained very heavy losses. Out of six aircraft, only two survived. But we eliminated all the enemies. And right there, among the tattered and scorched bodies, I saw her. Tamara the girl paladin. Your friend, Coruler Gnat La-Fin. And she was dead without a shadow of a doubt. Her body was in pieces.”

That made my heart ache. So, Tamara was right when she predicted her own death at a young age, and when she foretold that she and I would never meet again. But words and vague predictions were one thing. Finding out my friend was actually dead was something totally different. She loved me and had shared nights with me. It hurt. I put the mirror faceguard of my helmet down so no one could see my tears.

“We incinerated the corpses of the rebels, but Tamara’s body we loaded into a tiltrotor and hauled away. It is now at the Rosh-De-Vant military base in a cryocapsule. Only a few of my most loyal servants know what happened. And none of my relatives are aware of Tamara’s death. So when I heard from them that they saw the girl paladin at your side in the game, I gave it serious thought. And I realized it was my chance. At first, I must admit I wanted to blackmail you and demand you help me gain the throne of the Fourth Directory. But then...” Soia-Tan waved a hand fatefully and sighed heavily.

The antigrav was already landing next to my frigate, but I was in no hurry to leave the aircraft. I looked sorrowfully at the glimmering lettering reading “Tamara the Paladin” on the hull of the starship and thought back on the person who would never be with me again. Finally, I broke the extended silence:

“So, why did you leave your faction and why does your brother want to kill you?”

“Well the thing is...” she started carefully planning what to say next, clearly intending to hide something. But then she breathed a heavy sigh and answered honestly. “Sap-Po and I are the closest direct heirs of the former ruler Onuri-Unta La-Varrez. Both of us have indisputable claims to the throne of the Fourth Directory. My brother is twice my age and that is the only reason my relatives supported him over me at the family council. But I... yes, I’ll be upfront, it was a stupid idea. But I tried to kill my brother. I didn’t think he could stand up to my mind control and tried to make him walk off a high balcony in the palace. But Sap-Po not only repulsed the attack, he could tell who was behind it. I only just had time to sneak away into the game that bends reality. I no longer have any way back home. Overall, it’s up to you, Coruler Gnat La-Fin. You can decide what to do with this information and with me. I am entirely at your mercy.”

Now what was I supposed to do with this dangerous little troublemaker? Sending the girl back to her relatives would be a death sentence. Giving her official asylum meanwhile would have the La-Varrez dynasty up in arms. Then I could say goodbye to a peaceful conclusion of the crisis in the magocratic world. And goodbye to keeping Tamara’s death a secret, given the one keeping it was sitting right in front of me and batting her lashes trying to look innocent...

“Okay, here’s the thing. I will accept your faction change request. In three days’ time, you will exit in the First Directory and there you will stay in my currently vacant palace under the faithful guard of the Second Legion. Rupor’s troopers will then fly to the Fourth Directory — they were officially invited there, so there shouldn’t be any complications — and they will collect the item you told me about. Then I will tell your relatives something like, ‘she came to me for political support, but I do not wish to involve myself in the La-Varrez dynasty’s internal squabbles, and will support whichever dynasty head you end up choosing. But I won’t let anyone hurt Soia-Tan either — there are just too few powerful mages left to let one go to waste.’ You’ll have to spend the whole next three days in the game. And now that it’s come to that, you will also give me mental support for my psionic training — consider it payment for the safety I will be providing. And if you really do turn out to be as powerful a mage as you claim... what the hell... even though you’re quite young, you might be able to join Team Gnat and accompany me on my voyages through the galaxy. But for now — you’re going to the Medic to get those burns treated. Then you’ll have dinner and go right to sleep because tomorrow we’ll both be getting up very early.”

Chapter Thirty-Five. It Has Begun!

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I TOOK A LOOK around the group battle zone, which had now been cleared of debris. Flat, square, somewhere around forty yards by forty. A dusting of pure white sand covered the stains of dried blood from the previous fights. I looked around. A tightly packed crowd of army of Earth troops surrounded the location of the upcoming fight. The players were seated and standing all around, leaving not even enough room to swing a cat. Even the slopes of the distant hills were packed full of people with good optics. There were thousands, tens of thousands of soldiers even of the army of Earth. Somehow all these people knew what was about to take place, and the excitement was colossal. Seemingly, the whole army of fifty thousand was looking on.

And what then could be said of the hurriedly constructed stands built for an audience of a few hundred next to the arena? They were simply crammed with people. So many I couldn’t even imagine how they all fit. I had heard rumors that seats in the stands were even being sold for cash, and prices had ranged into the thousands of Geckho crystals. I didn’t know for sure whether the viewers in the front row had bought tickets, but among them were the impossibly important Viceroy of Earth Gerd Kosta Dykhsh with his young wife Gerd Uline Tar, Vano Ubish head of the Geckho spaceport, and the leaders of several Earth factions. But when a demure dark-haired girl approached the stands, her uncanny face showing no emotions whatsoever, the seated audience members meekly scooted aside to make room for the former leader of the Second Legion.

I chuckled to myself in satisfaction — Fox had taken a precaution to make sure at least one copy of her body would remain no matter what happened. Obviously, the Morphian was not one-hundred percent certain this would end favorably for her, and so she had played a little trick. At any rate, I saw that as a good thing — every existing copy made the Morphian weaker, so my opponent today would be significantly less deadly than one unified being.

And there, by the way, was my adversary now — Gerd Ayni the Miyelonian emerged from the tent camp walking at an unhurried pace. I didn’t really know why the Morphian liked that particular form out of all her possible appearances but, at the training camp, Fox almost always opted for the small and unoffensive looking orange kitty. The commotion in the stands instantly fell silent. The instructor was known, respected and feared. The mountain of skulls that had piled up next to the mess tent over the last few days was proof that the Morphian did not take kindly to jokes and dealt with disobedience swiftly and mercilessly.

Stopping three paces away from me and not paying any mind to the throngs of viewers, my rival made a comment, pointing a clawed paw at the Team Gnat fighters standing stock still behind me:

“Not a bad selection overall. Four armored tanks. Two lightning-fast melee fighters and three shooters. But the Bard will be no use. I understand that it’s the best class for giving bonuses to the group. But he’ll be lucky to survive two seconds in this fairly small arena. And nothing could possibly protect Vasily Filippov. Gnat, switch the Bard out for someone else if you don’t want to suffer a quick defeat.”

Yes, I understood the highly experienced warrior woman was right. No matter how my beefy tanks Vasha, Basha, T’yu-Pan and Eduard tried to protect the vulnerable Bard with their bodies and energy shields, the lightning fast and deadly Morphian would find a gap and quickly take him out. Then our group would lose all the speed, hitpoint and regeneration buffs the Bard provided.

“Okay team, we’ll be making a replacement!” I announced loud enough for all to hear. “Formation number three! Vasily Andreyevich, no offense. Gerd Mauu-La Mya-Ssa, to the arena!”

My Miyelonian Medic eagerly hopped out of the viewing area and ran in, taking his assigned position between the real Miyelonian Gerd Ayni Uri-Miayuu and Gerd Imran. All three of the lightning fast and blade-wielding players were supposed to tie up the Morphian with close combat for a few short seconds to give the shooters time to eliminate her. To accomplish that challenging objective, all three of the prominent melee fighters had been made as lightweight as possible. No armor at all, Imran had even taken off the famed red armor suit given to him by Kung Waid Shishish. No items in their inventory except one lone but powerful elixir to restore hitpoints and a stout speed enhancer, which the melee fighters were going to take right before the battle got started. Minimal clothing, but at that they all had on camouflage chameleon cloaks and a set of +2 Agility rings. Yes, our NPC Dryad had learned to make rings conferring +2 to any statistic and, for members of my crew, they were sold at a very affordable rate.

We had practiced with this line-up several times, and we had always just thrashed all the other army of Earth teams, often without taking any losses. Fox sized up the group of warriors standing before her:

“Not bad, not bad... I personally would have replaced one of the human shooters with your famed Trillian Gunner — he is both higher level and has significantly more Hitpoints. But that is no longer too important.”

Our opponent took out a pair of curved blades that looked exactly the same as the ones wielded by the real Translator Gerd Ayni. If I didn’t know they were actually appendages the Morphian had grown, I never would have guessed.

“And one last thing,” the Morphian pointed one of her blades at the two Small Relict Guard Drones spinning circles above me. “I understand that your drones provide excellent firepower and all that. But you aren’t going to have the time to keep track of them, that much I guarantee. I am planning to fight at full capacity and I definitely will not be going easy on you. I can take down your target markers faster than you can place them on me, and I’ll be changing shape a lot. And that will include taking the form of members of your team and guests sitting in the stands. And so, your drones will be thrown off very quickly and start shooting the wrong targets. If you don’t want this test to turn into a bloodbath for your audience, you’d better call off the drones.”

Again, I could sense that the Morphian was right. In the last few days, Fox had studied my flying metal satellites closely and had probably thought through several methods of counteracting them down to the most minute details. Alright. On my command, both drones went up higher and entered passive mode.

“The exam shall begin in fifteen seconds,” Fox announced in an even tone, then unhurriedly turned around and headed for the opposite end of the arena.

My team and I all quickly popped perception and speed enhancing pills. I also downed a mana restoring medicinal cocktail. Okay then, let’s see what those three days of grueling training were worth!

The whole time I had been training like crazy. I fainted, broke my spine once and arm twice. I died four times. I leveled Telekinesis and all my psionic skills strongly and got a lot of help from the little mage girl Soia-Tan. It really was like she was purpose built to play second fiddle, refilling my mana and powering up my attacks. With support like that I felt comfortable using even the most complex psionic tricks I knew — I virtually had the power and Magic Points to do anything. But nevertheless I decided not to take Soia-Tan with me — she was too little and children had no place in war. And so, as soon as her three days were up, I sent the gifted little girl to Pa-lin-thu in the First Directory.

And that whole time, I only once stepped away from the training camp — to meet the leader of the NPC Antiquity Faction, Phylira the Centaur mare. The problem my Diplomat was unable to handle turned out quite easy to solve. The Matriarch of the Centaurs didn’t so much want money as she wanted the recognition and respect of humans. And so, a promise to name our new city on the southern peninsula in her honor was all it took. We settled on either Phyliragrad or Centaursk, plus an assurance that we would place a statue of the Centaur mare made of the finest marble in the center of town... and that was it! The problem was solved and the Minotaurs and Centaurs got back to work on our twenty-three forts on the southern peninsula.

From the distance, I heard Fox counting down:

“Three.. two... one... FIGHT!!!”

That very second, I shot off and rolled into a square formed by the tanks. Vasha and Basha Tushihh, wearing the latest Undeh-Marva V armor, along with Gerd T’yu-Pan and Eduard Boyko had joined their exoskeleton armors’ energy shields together to form a one-sided forcefield sphere around our group. One-sided meant that we could shoot out, but nothing would be able to come our way. All our shooters — Taik Rekh, Grim Reaper and Destroying Angel had also managed to get inside the safe sphere and were now pointing their barrels all around in search of a target.

The Morphian was essentially correct — the legendary level-202 Trillian Gunner Gerd Ukh-Meemeesh really did have greater survival and combat abilities than any of the three shooters I had chosen. However, the fifteen-foot long armored crocodile had never fit inside the protective sphere in our practice sessions, and quite often knocked the other members of the team off their feet with his massive nine-hundred-pound body (that was actually how I fractured my spine). Outside the defensive field, meanwhile, the Gunner’s fate was unenviable — the lethal Morphian would have chopped the Trillian into coleslaw in a matter of seconds. And so, frustrating as it may have been, to use the group battle plan T’yu-Pan had worked out we had to get by without our best shot.

So then, what is going on? The battle had only been underway a few seconds, but one of my three melee fighters, the Miyelonian Gerd Mauu-La was already dead. I didn’t see him die. I just noticed his image turn gray in the group window. Damn! I said we should keep the Medic inside the forcefield too — the short Miyelonian would have just fit. But now the Morphian had struck down our healer first, and we had just lost a team member for nothing...

Where are Imran and Ayni? And where did that smoke come from all of a sudden? The arena was starting to fill up with a thick haze. I caught a lightning-fast blurry movement and realized it was the “Miyelonian” shooting around the outside of our sphere fast as a bullet, studying our shelter and at the same time laying smoke bombs all around it.

Eagle Eye skill increased to level one hundred eleven!

Working quickly, before it was too late to see anything, I used Telekinesis to throw the smoke bombs I could see outside the arena. Then the Morphian flickered by in the wisps of smoke again! That time I reacted quicker and put a targeting marker on my opponent, making her easily distinguishable even through the dense smoke. The next second nearly made me deaf. The brothers Vasha and Basha Tushihh blasted a series of homing rounds from their Avashi Shock plasma-grenade launching systems. Eduard and T’yu-Pan echoed them from their high-caliber machineguns, and our three gunfighters also got some shots off.

Targeting skill increased to level seventy-one!

Targeting skill increased to level seventy-two!

We hit!!! The targeting marker faded. We hadn’t just killed her, right?! But before I even had time to rejoice or at least marvel at the ease with which we downed our high-level opponent, a shriek of fear rang out behind me and quickly cut off. Then Destroying Angel’s marker turned gray. I whipped around instantly. While “Ayni” distracted us, out of the smoke on the other side of the sphere there emerged an eight-legged Meleyephatian spider as big as a horse. Poking one of its sharp appendages inside the sphere, the brute made a calculated strike from behind into the heart of the German shooter Destroying Angel, killing her instantly. And then, grabbing Gerd T’yu-Pan by the shoulder, she yanked the hefty soldier out of the forcefield and into the impenetrable smoke. Two seconds, a short shriek and my boarding team commander was no more. Damn! Damn! Our plan was going off the rails!

The square, based on four tanks, became a triangle. The safe (or as we just found out not all that safe) area covered by the forcefield was suddenly significantly smaller.

“Shooters, center! Everyone stay inside the forcefield!”

I activated Scanning in hopes of discovering enemies in the thick smoke. However, my scan contained too many markers — part of the stands was in the draw area, so my mini-map was packed with audience members. I had to change the scale and filter out everything I didn’t need. Strangely, I discovered several moving markers in the arena, and two of them were labeled, “Miyelonian Female. Level-115 Translator.” One was, “Geckho. Level-200 Shocktroop,” and another said, “Meleyephatian. Level-280 Assassin.” I disoriented all these players without even trying to distinguish them (sorry, real Ayni). Then I put targeting markers on the last two and, while deafening thunder boomed out all around, I used Telekinesis to throw all the smoke bombs on my mini-map as far away as possible. I hope our instructor doesn’t have any more of them, otherwise I don’t know how we’ll fight in all the smoke!

Disorientation skill increased to level forty-one!

My character’s experience jumped up sharply in a few bursts. We had just killed someone. But seeing all the enemies still on the mini-map as before, our victims must have been peaceful audience members. Oh well. They knew this would be a dangerous spectacle. By the way... I just noticed that my Dagestani pal Imran had also died at some point. And right before my eyes, Ayni’s life bar sharply fell by two thirds — I didn’t know how, but the Miyelonian had in fact survived the attack of the deadly Morphian at her extreme 200+ level. But as for poor Ayni — her mutilated and bloodied body flew out of the wisps of smoke and smacked down on top our forcefield dome. After a few seconds convulsing, the Miyelonian went slack. The image of the tailed Translator in the group also went gray.

“Over there!!!” Grim Reaper’s cry drew my attention and, through a gap in the smoke, I saw a huge Geckho in heavy armor racing toward us and brandishing a terrifying spiked club.

I don’t know what that Geckho wanted to do. Perhaps to burst into our safe zone and dole out blows to all of us with his fearsome club. But that was a mistake on the Morphian’s part — my shooters turned the racing giant into swiss cheese, stopping him just three feet away from the forcefield. I meanwhile, suspecting she might try the stab in the back tactic again, turn around and caught the “Miyelonian” right next to our forcefield with Telekinesis!!!

Telekinesis skill increased to level sixty!

Targeting skill increased to level seventy-three!

You have reached level one hundred nine!

You have received three skill points!

Finally levelled up! In the last three days of training, I just could not stay alive long enough, and my progress bar had frustratingly zeroed out four times. And although I brought up my skills a great deal over those three days, I felt stuck at level one hundred eight. And here, at long last, I hit level one hundred nine!

However, it was not a good time to distribute skill points. The battle was moving, and we seemed to be losing — out of a team of ten, I had just five remaining and none of them were quick enough to catch Fox. The Morphian then had two bodies left: the Miyelonian I was holding in place and the giant dangerous spider.

I tried to take mental control of the “Miyelonian.” Nope, no use. A brick wall. And as it was turning out, holding her with Telekinesis wasn’t all that easy either. The orange kitty’s body suddenly transformed into some bizarre gel and seeped through the forcefield to the ground, then became a “Miyelonian” again in the space of a second. And at that she was now standing... inside our sphere of safety!!!

Danger Sense skill increased to level one hundred thirty-nine!

I realized what was happening and ran full tilt out of the dome before the Morphian started her killing spree. As I ran, I put another disorientation and target marker on the “Miyelonian.” I also tried to attack our adversary with Psionics once more time but again to no avail. The next second and a half decided the outcome. All my tanks and shooters died. But they did manage to take the killer “Miyelonian” with them. I was left with just one opponent.

The smoke gradually cleared. The huge sleek black spiny spider and I were standing opposite one another. I was holding the Annihilator because I saw no other way of damaging this enemy. By that time, I had already come to the realization that none of my psionic abilities would work against the high-level Morphian, and my disorientation had almost no effect. In fact, the fearsome giant spider was disoriented just then, but that clearly wasn’t preventing her from getting her bearings and looking straight at me.

“Well, Kung Gnat, let me congratulate you. Your team was able to eliminate four of my five bodies. I must admit, I wasn’t expecting that. But this form is my favorite and deadliest. This is how the warrior woman Kung Eesssa the Betelgeuse Planet Devouress looked. I have lived three whole tongs in this body. It is like a home to me.”

Because my opponent was not attacking, I didn’t rush ahead to die. In fact, I took the opportunity to ask why my methods were failing:

“Could you tell me why psionics aren’t working? Is your Intelligence higher than fifty-six?”

Kung Eesssa chortled in satisfaction — my confusion clearly amused her.

“No, Gnat. My Intelligence is of course high, but not that high. There are two reasons. My Mental Defense skill is very high level. Five hundred twenty if you want specifics. Mental Defense is an essential skill for any Morphian’s survival because it stops us from being uncovered. Yes, I remember you once penetrated my defenses and read my thoughts. But I was sleeping then, and also considered you utterly harmless, so I didn’t see any need to defend myself against you. But in this battle, I formed all my bodies with heightened psionic defenses, though it did come at the expense of fighting ability. Yes, I had to make sure I could defend myself against a psionic as powerful as yourself. So, have I satisfied your curiosity?”

Danger Sense skill increased to level one hundred forty!

I understood what was just about to happen, and so I was ready. In an instant, totally invisibly to the naked eye, Kung Eesssa shot forward thirty feet, putting her right next to me. I suddenly saw the deadly tip of one of her eight legs seemingly dripping with toxin of some kind and frozen just four inches from my chest. The second the Tachyon Bender gave me was enough to shoot my Annihilator at the limb and jump away.

Rifles skill increased to level sixty-eight!

Sharpshooter skill increased to level fifty-five!

Over the next second, the Morphian made three or maybe four instant moves around the arena, seemingly expecting me to shoot again. Finally, Kung Eesssa stopped fifty paces from me and, after surveying her damaged limb, instantly grew another in its place.

“Now there you caught me off guard, Kung Gnat. Stopping time, are you? I once faced off against an elite fighter whose job was to protect the top rulers of the Meleyephatian Horde. He also had a sophisticated armor suit fashioned from an ancient Relict artifact. And that warrior was also able to stop time. But that was a long while ago... The wise Vaa has much more experience in that realm. But in any case, the Morphians are aware of one tactic that can counter an opponent such as you.”

The Morphian darted aside toward the dead Geckho fighters. Then suddenly she jumped to the exact opposite end of the arena, and... a nearly nine-hundred-pound exoskeleton armor suit belonging to one of the twin brothers came flying my direction! One second was nowhere near enough time for me to dodge such a large object, especially one that was already just four inches away. Furthermore, a second object had already been thrown from the opposite direction — a huge chunk of a concrete slab. The Morphian had clearly overestimated my abilities and thought I might have been able to actually dodge the flying armor...

Crunch!!! I fell down, stunned by the blow and crushed by the heavy slab on my chest. I was no longer holding the Annihilator and couldn’t even move my arms. My life bar was down by half. Out of the Listener suit forcefield’s sixteen thousand five hundred points, just four thousand remained.

“What a thick hide you have...” the giant lethal spider loomed over me. I saw her razor-sharp poison-laced mandibles. “My opponents normally don’t survive double impacts of that magnitude. But oh well, Kung Gnat. You didn’t shoot me in the chest when you had the chance, instead only shooting off one of my legs. I am also surprised that your fighters’ blades and bullets weren’t laced with the substance your Medic told you about. It would not have killed me, but it would have made my job harder. You have demonstrated unexpected nobility and mercy. And so, I will not kill you either. You have passed my exam. You survived and, what’s more, easily could have killed me.”

Without apparent effort, the Morphian took the heavy slab off me and threw it aside, even helping me to my feet. And although I was barely able to stay standing, I found the strength to bow to my instructor and thank her for the highly beneficial and spectacular experience of facing off against a truly serious contender. Meanwhile, the thousands of army of Earth troops realized the show was over, and the Kung of Earth had managed to survive an encounter with their deadly instructor. The ruckus and ovations were so loud that even the recent thunder of heavy machinegun fire right next to my ear faded by comparison.

Fame increased to 108.

Authority increased to 112!

General Ui-Taka walked up to us, among a few others from the audience of the recent arena battle. He slapped me on the shoulder and asked the Morphian, who had already taken the form of Ayni the Miyelonian, whether she would be joining the army of Earth in this war.

“No, General. Although the Meleyephatians are enemies of my race, this still is not my war. I have entirely different plans for the future, and Kung Gnat promised to help me accomplish them as soon as he is finished with the war. His aid was the price of hiring me as an instructor for the army of Earth.”

Viceroy Gerd Kosta Dykhsh also walked up. At first the disheveled and very dusty Geckho grumbled that spaceport administrator Vano-Ubish had been killed by a stray bullet. And a second before that, some flying debris killed H3 Faction Journalist Lydia Vertyachikh, Ivan Lozovksy’s girlfriend, who was there to capture the arena battle on film. But then the Geckho nevertheless gave a smile, congratulated me on the victory and the successful draft of fifty thousand soldiers into the army of Earth.

“Yes, just yesterday we reached fifty thousand ahead of schedule,” I confirmed, myself also very satisfied with the fact I was able to complete the suzerain ruler’s challenging assignment. “Three thousand Human-12 Faction soldiers arrived yesterday, and another four hundred from the Human-19 Faction. I admit, we weren’t especially counting on the Americans to send recruits. We actually thought the American factions would sabotage the draft. But their Diplomat raced over to say the Kung of Earth ‘misunderstood’ them. In his words, the Americans wanted to make sure the army of Earth didn’t have only their low-level infantry, but also their experienced leaders, whose advice could help the commander of the entire army. With those conditions, I saw no obstacle to the American military taking part in the joint endeavor of the two worlds of humanity. General Ui-Taka has already spoken with their senior officers and said he found them highly capable. The ruler of the Second Directory is currently forming a general staff which will contain members of all the various factions of humanity, including Relict, H1, H3 and H12.”

“That’s good. The Third Strike Fleet’s landing ships came to the Solar System yesterday as well and are currently on the Moon. In ten days, we will be able to start loading the best prepared units.”

There were lots of other things I wanted to discuss with the Viceroy. For example, to find out whether measures had been taken to treat the land where Uraz Tukhsh had been sitting and where the dangerous bouquet had ended up. Whether any punitive measures would be taken against that scoundrel for attempting to poison the wedding guests. And lots of other things. But Gerd Ayni Uri-Miayuu the Miyelonian had resurrected and walked over, then insistently pulled me aside. The normally very delicate Translator’s behavior had me seriously intrigued, so I followed her. And actually, the Viceroy got a message on his communicator and walked off to familiarize himself with it.

Ayni was all disheveled and so worried that she didn’t even look like herself:

“Captain Gnat, all the news channels are broadcasting a breaking story! In the Kharsssh-O system, the Throne World of the Meleyephatian Horde, a large number of portals have opened and a never-ending stream of combat ships belonging to an unknown race is flooding out! The Meleyephatian Third Fleet, which was defending the capital has engaged, however all indications are that they are losing! The ships of the unknown invaders are already bombarding the Throne World from orbit!”

Would you look at that... My spiny Analyst Gerd Jarg was right. So we did bring a tail behind us from the unknown galaxy. The news shocked me. Then Kosta Dykhsh also lost all his pomp, ran over and shot out:

“Gnat! A new order has come from the commander of the Third Strike Fleet: the army of Earth must load into its ships immediately. We cannot allow such a historic opportunity to go to waste! The Meleyephatian Horde has bigger concerns than us now. The Geckho are going on the counterattack!”

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End of Book Six

Addendum. Crew list of the frigate Tamara the Paladin

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PLAYERS:

1. Kung Gnat. Human. Listener. Captain.

1. Gerd Uline-Tar. Geckho. Trader. Captain’s First Mate and business partner.

1. Gerd Ayni Uri-Miayuu. Miyelonian. Translator. Authorized representative.

1. Gerd Imran Human. Gladiator. Captain’s personal bodyguard.

1. Gerd Jarg. Jarg. Analyst.

1. Gerd Mauu-La Mya-Ssa. Miyelonian. Medic.

1. Gerd Minn-O La-Fin. Human. Aristocrat. Captain’s wayedda.

1. Gerd T’yu-Pan. Human. Shocktroop. Landing team leader.

1. Gerd Urgeh Pu-Pu Urgeh. Relict. Technician.

1. Gerd Ukh-Meemeesh. Trillian. Gunner.

1. Avan Toi. Geckho. Supercargo.

1. Amati-Kuis Urshhh. Trillian. Chef-Assassin.

1. Ayukh. Geckho. Geckho. Navigator. Senior Officer.

1. Basha Tushihh Geckho. Heavy Robot Operator.

1. Destroying Angel. Human. Gunfighter.

1. Dmitry Zheltov. Human. Starship Pilot. Main pilot.

1. Eduard Boyko. Human. Space Commando.

1. Grim Reaper. Human. Sniper.

1. Kisly. Human. Machinegunner. Husband to Nefertiti the Dryad.

1. Orun Va-Mart. Miyelonian. Engineer. Main ship engineer.

1. San-Doon Taki-Bu Human. Pilot. Copilot.

1. San-Sano. Human. Engineer.

1. Svetlana Vereshchagina. Human. Assassin. Physical Education Instructor.

1. Taik Rekh. Geckho. Gunner.

1. Timka-Vu. Human. Machinegunner.

1. Tini Wi-Gnat. Miyelonian. Thief. Ward of the captain.

1. Valeri-Urla. Human. Beast Master. Master of Little Sister the Shadow Panther.

1. Vasha Tushihh Geckho. Heavy Robot Operator.

1. Vasily Andreyevich Filippov. Human. Bard. Strategy specialist.

Non players:

1. Kirsan (3x). Mechanoid repair bot. Differentiated by color.

1. Little Sister. Shadow Panther. Animal.

1. Nefertiti. NPC-Dryad. Jeweler.

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About the Author

MICHAEL ATAMANOV was born in 1975 in Grozny, Chechnia. He excelled at school, winning numerous national science and writing competitions. Having graduated with honors, he entered Moscow University to study material engineering. Soon, however, he had no home to return to: their house was destroyed during the first Chechen campaign. Michael’s family fled the war, taking shelter with some relatives in Stavropol Territory in the South of Russia.

Having graduated from the University, Michael was forced to accept whatever work was available. He moonlighted in chemical labs, loaded trucks, translated technical articles, worked as a software installer and scene shifter for local artists and events. At the same time he never stopped writing, even when squatting in some seedy Moscow hostels. Writing became an urgent need for Michael. He submitted articles to science publications, penned news fillers for a variety of web sites and completed a plethora of technical and copywriting gigs.

Then one day unexpectedly for himself he started writing fairy tales and science fiction novels. For several years, his audience consisted of only one person: Michael’s elder son. Then, at the end of 2014 he decided to upload one of his manuscripts to a free online writers resource. Readers liked it and demanded a sequel. Michael uploaded another book, and yet another, his audience growing as did his list. It was his readers who helped Michael hone his writing style. He finally had the breakthrough he deserved when the Moscow-based EKSMO - the biggest publishing house in Europe - offered him a contract for his first and consequent books.

Michael is now the author of three bestselling LitRPG series: Perimeter Defense, The Dark Herbalist and Reality Benders which are already considered the classics of LitRPG.

[1] Events take place in the book Quarantine World by Michael Atamanov

[2] Translator’s note — common Russian phrase.