| |
––––––––
I JUST FROZE at the shocking news. My wife was expecting a child! How about that!!! And Minn-O was already pregnant when she was killed and respawned! Like ants in an agitated colony, thousands of thoughts ran through my head simultaneously. And most important was how to transfer a child from the virtual game into the real world? Minn-O once said it was possible. At the very least Coruler Thumor-Anhu La-Fin supposedly knew a way.
“What’s the matter Kirill, can’t keep track of your underlings?” the Journalist’s acrid voice rang out behind me, jerking me from my thinking.
Authority reduced to 58!
No, she just never learned! I didn’t even turn around, already knowing perfectly that the girl’s lifeless body was falling to the floor behind me, her heart stopped cold. I hoped at our next encounter Lydia would learn to show respect to a Leng!
Psionic skill increased to level eighty-seven!
Mysticism skill increased to level thirty-six!
I heard shouts of fear. Everyone saw Lydia Vertyachikh dying at the same time. Meanwhile, no one stopped me or asked any questions, and most importantly didn’t judge me. There was one upside to being high-profile. As a Gerd and all the more so a Leng, if I did something, that meant it was my right!
I walked up to the edge of the precipice, expecting to see anything: the Beast Master and Bard fighting off Naiads with the last of their strength, a pair of broken bodies. But the picture before me then was simply idyllic: Major Filippov was enjoying himself fishing with a spinning rod. And he was doing pretty well for himself. On the stringer tied to the fisherman’s belt I could already see four medium-sized salmon. Valeri-Urla then, like a mermaid from an old tale, was sitting on a huge rock with her legs dangling down, sometimes lapped by the surf.
But where were the Naiads? I zoomed in the mini-map. The red hostile NPC markers were still there and very nearby, but underwater. Risking breaking my legs on the crumbly steep slope, I started down toward the water and at the same time called my drone just in case. Hearing the sound of rolling rocks, Valeri-Urla turned to me:
“Gnat, just be careful not to spook them!”
There wasn’t even a shade of fear in the Beastmaster’s voice. It was more like annoyance that I was bothering her. As for “them,” she meant the undersea creatures. I realized that instantly. So that meant my companion knew perfectly about the danger lurking beneath the waves? I asked that aloud.
“Captain, you are wrong there! Naiads are not dangerous if you don’t harm them first. They told me that themselves. They have a very particular way of thinking. This is the first time I’ve seen such a thing. There are only two categories for classifying strangers who are not part of their underwater species: ‘food’ and ‘do not contact.’ And they have a photographic memory shared by the whole school. They remember everyone who ever harmed any of them. Anyone who does gets added to their ‘food’ category, and can never be moved back out.”
By then I had already reached the water and was standing on a stone behind the alien girl. Instantly all the red markers on my mini-map changed to a neutral yellow shade.
“They changed to neutral. Your work?” I asked.
“No. I didn’t tell them anything about you. The Naiads just came to the conclusion they had never seen you before.”
Interesting. Very interesting. But then why did the caged Naiad kill Ivan Lozovsky right away before even giving the Diplomat the chance to establish contact? Valeri-Urla the Beastmaster immediately gave a totally plausible explanation for that also:
“Your former leader must have shown the Naiad a connection with someone who caused it pain and suffering. Maybe he gave a warm greeting to the players who captured it. Maybe he was just talking with or smiling at them. Also, the caged Naiad was starting to dry out, but its pain was just entertaining to those land-lubbers. So as soon as the captive got the chance, it killed its tormenter. And after that, all further attempts to establish contact were doomed to failure. Both with the still captive individual and its whole race. To all of them, the human Diplomat is now food, and you don’t talk to food!”
I fell silent, thinking over the situation in the coastal waters around my island. The Miyelonians and Geckho were neutral to the Naiads. I wasn’t sure about the Dark Faction people, but as for the Human-3 members, only Lydia Vertyachikh had ever been on the front lines of that war. The Journalist gave a report there and even held a gun in her own hands. Good thing I sent her to respawn!
“Is it possible to get the Naiads from neutral to friendly?” I asked the Beastmaster her expert opinion.
The huge-eyed girl turned and looked at me with a smile:
“Very good question, Leng Gnat. You think the very same way as me. But no, these ones cannot. They are simple everyday NPC’s, very limited in their authority to make important decisions. Their leaders handle diplomatic negotiations, and one has already been sent for.”
“Damn! Did you see that?! The one that got away was a lunker!!! I got it all the way up to shore and it jerked and stole my lure!” the Bard, five steps away, had a very emotional reaction to losing a fish.
By the way, Major Filippov’s level had already hit 22! Not bad for less than an hour of fishing! I heard the game had suggested the career soldier an alternative profession as a Fisher, and clearly he had a knack for it.
“I was the one who asked Vasily to come here and fish,” Valeri-Urla suddenly told me. “We needed to catch the Naiads’ attention to get them closer to shore.”
“Woah, holy crap!” the Bard, crouched down to tie on a new jig, took a step back in fear and even fell back on his ass when just one yard away a waist-high scaled creature with fish-like immobile eyes rose up out of the water.
Using its webbed hands, the Naiad lowered its trident in silence and pulled down a three-foot-long fish, setting it before Major Filippov. In its toothy maw, I could make out a bright yellow and blue lure with a bit of torn off line. Then, as silently as it arrived, the undersea native went under the water and dissolved in the depths of the sea. The Beastmaster commented on the entertaining episode:
“There’s your answer about whether Naiads can be friendly. They want to be friends with people and do everything they can to butter you up. By the way, I’m gonna go for a swim. You coming, captain?”
The space girl, burned bronze, hopped off the wet wave-kissed boulder, scrambled up a bit higher, farther from the tide line and got undressed, unashamed and carefully folding her things on the stone. I lowered my eyes in embarrassment even though the naked extraterrestrial had a very attractive figure to my eye. All I didn’t know was why Valeri-Urla wouldn’t put her clothes in her inventory. Either the extra weight stopped her from swimming or she was just acting on an old real-world habit. Or was she teasing me?
Her hands extended, without the slightest splash, she entered the water head first. When she popped back up, she was already fifty feet from shore. Pushing the hair out of her eyes, Valeri-Urla laughed happily:
“How nice! You coming, Leng Gnat? It’s hot out, the water is just so refreshing!”
At the same time as she said that out loud, she sent another message mentally just for me:
“Don’t disappoint me, Captain! Confirm your reputation as a fearless adventure lover whose impressive feats are discussed the Universe over! Or are you afraid of the Naiads? Maybe you’re just afraid of me?”
Damn! Damn! What an uncomfortable situation! Maybe she was just happy to be refreshed, but I remembered the game rules clearly: no Swimming skill meant you’d sink like a stone. And my Gnat didn’t have that skill. I mean, I was a Listener at the end of the day, a mage specialized in controlling machines, not some marine or diver! Seemingly I had another Authority drop coming my way, third in a row...
“I’d love to swim with such a beautiful lady!” I didn’t know when he’d made it down here, but the huge muscular giant Gerd Ui-Taka was looking at the beautiful girl frisking about in the water with clear interest. “If of course the Leng allows it.”
The former Dark Faction leader’s words wounded me with unexpected intensity. I turned around. On the high shore there were lots of people watching now both from my crew and the La-Fin Faction. I couldn’t let them see me being cowardly! And that thought was the straw that broke the camel’s back:
“No, General, I do not allow it! I’m diving into the sea myself!”
What was I doing?! Had I lost my mind? Out of concern for the opinion of a mysterious beauty from a distant planet called Tailax, I was going to lose ninety-two percent of my progress to level eighty-three? But it was the only proper decision, I knew it. If I didn’t jump, Valeri-Urla would be disappointed and leave the crew. And along with her would go Denni Marko, the only one on my starship who could operate the cannons. And my Authority as a Leng would falter in my subjects’ eyes.
But that self-serving interest was not most important now. I gathered my bravery and admitted honestly, at least to myself, that I liked Valeri-Urla as a woman. Although the space huntress already had a companion and her relationship with Denni had lasted for many years. Also I had my own wife. The beautiful and loyal Princess Minn-O La-Fin, future mother of my child. But still I was not willing to lose Valeri!
Not wanting to copy the sun-kissed huntress and put on my own striptease, I simply stashed my clothes in my inventory, leaving on just a swimsuit. I moved my respawn point to this stony shore as well. I would need it very soon. My three remaining skill points I set into Scanning, raising it to forty-eight. If I hadn’t done so, the points would have just burnt up, because it had been more than 24 hours since I got them.
With a heavy sigh — ugh, bye, bye almost full experience bar! — and squinting, I decisively leapt head first into the deep blue water!
Fame increased to 74.
Authority increased to 59!
I didn’t even have time to get scared before a huge number of webbed hands grabbed me and forcefully pushed me up to the surface. I took a greedy breath. Wow!!! I’m alive!!!
The strong arms of the underwater natives held my head above the water then, with a fairly haphazard poke in the ass, they pushed me onto something big, black and round. I didn’t even know what it was at first, but it was a huge sea turtle drifting among the waves. Valeri-Urla was already there, straddling the unrushed animal like its master and laughing happily:
“That was funny! It looked like you were walking to your execution! Calm down, captain. There was no danger. I asked them to grab you if you dared to take such a suicidal jump. It was just a little test. And I have to admit, you impressed me. And not just me...” Valeri-Urla fell silent mid-word as if listening to something in her head. “I’ve just been asked to say that the prelates of the planet of Tailax would like to establish contact with you and your people, Leng Gnat.”
* * *
IT WAS THE STRANGEST negotiation I’d ever had the ill fortune to take part in. An endless blue sea, only in the east at the very horizon could I see the rocky island. The sun overhead was scorching unbearably. The huge sea turtle under us moved its flippers phlegmatically. A whole escort of Naiads accompanied us and there were several subtypes. There were also sea monsters, some of which looked like they’d come right off the screen of a horror movie. And completing the surreal picture was the naked sunburnt girl next to me with huge anime eyes. She was pretty but her body was stuffed full of complex espionage equipment which her distant jailers used both to tell her what to ask me and hear my answers.
I learned a great amount. Above all else, what exactly would happen after the game’s guaranteed tong of safety passed, and how a space invasion would look. Tailax had undergone one around three hundred years ago. Despair — that was the most appropriate word for the panic and anguish that took hold on their planet when the armada of the Meleyephatian horde, known as a scourge of every living thing, appeared simultaneously in the game that bends reality and the real world.
As it turned out, the “tong of safety” was exactly how long it took to sufficiently synchronize the virtual and real worlds. Attacking before then only in the game was basically pointless because it wouldn’t capture the planet in the real world. And sending a fleet only in the real world was immeasurably difficult and, more importantly, an extremely drawn-out operation because travelling between stars in the real world frequently required thousands if not millions of years. Thankfully, in the game, the same stars were much closer at hand and could take just a few days to reach if not hours.
Tailaxian humanity’s original suzerains were the Cyanians — a low population race of amorphous creatures that looked like bubbles. I’d once seen one of them on Medu-Ro IV going through passport control. In theory the Cyanians should have defended their vassals. In fact they had occupied a few territories on Tailax, rendering them off limits to the natives, supposedly for the purpose of building a planetary shield and other defensive structures.
In reality, the planetary shield was not finished in time. And one day, a never-ending flood of Meleyephatian horde space commandos just flooded out through portals built by the Cyanians themselves. They suppressed all resistance within two days. The forces were just too uneven and the orbital bombardment just too destructive, accurate. All those connected with the former authorities were exterminated without exception. The new authorities the occupiers put in place, made up of Meleyephatians and Cyanians set the laws Tailax was to live by from then on: a seventy percent tax paid to the Meleyephatian horde for all resources, the use of local orbital docks to construct starships for their masters, and a yearly draft of recruits to fuel the further expansion of the horde. And even the slightest disobedience toward the occupying authorities was to be punished by killing every native of Tailax down to the tiniest mewling babe.
That heavy yoke hung on their peoples’ shoulders for many long decades. Production expectations were constantly increasing, the horde needed more and more resources and starships for their expansion. Every year millions of young men and women were drafted into the Meleyephatian horde and flew off to unknown space. None of them had ever come back. The very idea of an uprising was cauterized with red-hot iron and by the planet’s human natives themselves. The former ruling dynasties being wiped out, a theocracy was swept into power, leaving them under the thumb of the church of Survival. Centuries of oppression and isolation had made Tailax a very closed society in which church intelligence tracked every person via electronic implants.
A slight thaw came only two centuries later and the reason for the indulgence was that Tailax was running out of resources. The planet had lost its attractiveness to the Meleyephatian horde. The people of Tailax were allowed to add prelates of the church of Survival to the planet’s ruling council. They were allowed to have their own space fleet, though exclusively noncombat ships. But most importantly, the restriction against further exploration of space was removed, so they could get back to that after almost two centuries of occupation. And although there were still fairly harsh restrictions on real-world space flight, they didn’t apply to the game that bends reality and the virtual game had become Tailax’s main source of information about the outside world. Furthermore, Tailax had come to surpass the great space races in the field of creating miniature devices to implant in human bodies which gather and transmit the full spectrum of information.
“But the biggest thaw came very recently, not even ten years ago,” Valeri-Urla, lying on her stomach to tan her back, distantly commented on what her jailers were saying. “The planet of Tailax was given the right to conduct their own politics even if they contradicted the common thrust of the Meleyephatian horde. And just so Leng Gnat understands just how unusual that all is, the Meleyephatians have never made such indulgences to subjugated races before.”
“Yeah?” I really was interested in this strange exception to the rules. “So why did they make an exception for Tailax all of a sudden?”
Valeri translated the question to Tailaxian for her masters. Nowhere near all of them understood Geckho. And she told me their answer:
“The prelates of the church of Survival believe that this unexpected thaw is connected with the Meleyephatian horde encountering a previously unknown but very tough enemy in the process of their expansion. Although the leaders of the horde conceal the precise nature of the problem, expansion in vector 8-9-17 ground to a halt long ago, and hasn’t picked back up. What’s more, we know there were some very extreme space battles in that sector of the galaxy two tongs ago. The horde suffered great losses.”
“Is it known what enemy stopped the Meleyephatian horde?” I asked, not especially counting on a serious answer. And so it was all the more surprising to receive a response:
“Yes, it is. Humans.”
Excuse me?! That was the last answer I was expecting. Humans? Another branch of humanity, which was apparently just scattered throughout the Universe? Not Earth, not Tailax, not the Gilvar Syndicate. Some totally different people!
“It’s top secret information, the Meleyephatians will not share the details of the catastrophe with their vassals. All we know is that the horde’s fleet was soundly defeated in a star system called the Aysar Cluster. No details. But regardless of what happened there, the Meleyephatians are afraid. And they’re so afraid that, ever since, they’ve been trying not to provoke their galactic neighbors and have closed space flight vector 8-9-17 to travel. They even loosened restrictions for their human vassals!”
The Aysar Cluster... What a familiar name. I’d heard of that star system before... Oh yeah! A recent episode sprung up an my memory when I encountered the mysterious starship in hyperspace and it reacted brusquely to normal scanning, taking out my frigate’s location and scanning systems. But hell knew where the Aysar Cluster was! A two-tong journey, if memory served. Did Meleyephatian space really stretch that far?
“The Meleyephatian horde has huge holdings that extend for many parsecs. But even they are not endless. Beyond is just undiscovered space, filled with mysteries and riddles.”
“Earth’s suzerains are not the Cyanians, but the Geckho a much more numerous and powerful space race. Are they capable of defending Earth?”
I froze, attentively waiting for the answer, my heart aflutter. Unfortunately, the answer was not what I was hoping for:
“The Geckho are strong, no argument. But their main territories are nowhere near your home planet, Leng Gnat. In that sector of the galaxy, Geckho positions are very thin: just one military base and a seriously ragged fleet. It is not enough to defend your planet. And you know that yourself, Leng Gnat.”
I lowered my head because I really did already know that bitter truth. Kung Waid Shishish’s fleet was Earth’s only hope, but it was far away. And even if he reached the Solar System, he couldn’t stay in orbit around Earth forever, because the Geckho had lots of colonies and vassals that required attention. But that wasn’t the worst of it. Constant defense was impossible, I was sure of that. But us Earth natives had to regularly pay such impossible sums to the Geckho Fleet and its captains that we would have a very hard time coming up with resources of our own, so our chances were slim.
“There are no good moves here, Leng Gnat,” Valeri transmitted the words of the prelates of Tailax. “Earth is doomed. As soon as the term of safety is up, alternative suzerains are going to be lining up, as they do for any planet that can support life. The Miyelonians or Trillians, Meleyephatians or some race from their horde... it makes no difference. And I mean, the Geckho themselves shouldn’t be written off. They might demand your planet in repayment for defending it. In any case, there are predators lurking everywhere.”
Mental Fortitude skill increased to level eighty-three!
Before that message popped up to warn me, I had already seen flaws in my counterpart’s logic. The Miyelonians? Sure, the Tailaxians didn’t know, but the commander of the Miyelonian fleet herself, Kung Keetsie-Myau had promised that her race wouldn’t lay claim to Earth. The Trillians? Yes, that ancient race was widely settled throughout the galaxy, but they had no colonies or space stations in this sector. The Trillians couldn’t hold a such a distant planet, so they wouldn’t even try. The same could be said about the Geckho although the mysterious construction by the suzerains of some facilities on Earth, and the fact that some parts of earth were now off limits to earthlings had me on guard.
The only potential aggressor left was the Meleyephatian horde. And it just so happened that I was negotiating with a representative of one of their vassals just now, and they were most likely cautiously preparing me for an offer. I wondered what it would be.
I didn’t have to wait long:
“Leng Gnat, you are one of the most famous people of Earth, and very respected. You have levers of influence in various factions. So we wanted to offer one way and possibly several of how to minimize damage to your kind after the end of the tong of safety, and we thought you were just the man for the job.”
Mental Fortitude skill increased to level eighty-four!
You have reached level eighty-three!
You have received three skill points.
“I’m all ears,” here I was bending the truth, in fact doing my best to concentrate.
The three points I threw right into Mental Fortitude without even thinking, bringing it up to level 87. They were trying to pressure me, maybe even openly trick me. I could feel it so there was plenty of reason to build on my defense.
“Leng Gnat, you have a fast starship, and it’s Meleyephatian too. We have told you where to go. Yes, it will be a long flight. Very long. But you can find the power the Meleyephatians are so afraid of. And perhaps you can convince these powerful humans to intervene and save the other branches of the human race from occupation.”
What? Were they being serious? That was ten to twelve years in flight one way and my chances of being understood, heard out, and even helped were transparently thin. And that was to say nothing of provisions and power for twelve long years, the fact I would be flying into restricted space, that my crew would not agree to such an insanely long flight... especially the Geckho and Miyelonians. But even all that wasn’t most important. Regardless, my frigate wouldn’t make it fast enough and my desperate mission would never be able to save Earth. No, that was definitely not it.
My counterparts didn’t argue or try and convince me. Seemingly they already knew I’d refuse, so they made a second offer:
“Okay, there’s a more realistic way too. We give Earth’s humanity some technology the Geckho would never give or even sell to you, and which would take your scientists centuries to achieve. Long-distance space communication technology. Subatomic energy technology. Nanoelectronics, powered by leucocyte decay. Hyperspace portal technology. Cold thermonuclear synthesis. Planetary shield.”
It sounded very attractive. If head scientist Gerd Ustinov were in my place, he would be struck by the alluring perspectives. But how would we pay for all these riches?
“In some distant hexagons of the virtual planet, hidden from the Geckho, you build a few portal gates that allow you to open stable hyperspace tunnels. We will help and provide specialists to install them. Then you activate the gates on the very day planet Earth is no longer invulnerable, and let your defenders through. Naturally, I’m talking about the army of the Meleyephatian horde. Its mostly made up of Tailaxians anyway. Earth will peacefully join the horde without a bloody slaughter and, in most political matters, shall retain its independence. And you, Gnat, shall become the prelate of all Earth and one of the leaders of the Meleyephatian horde, an ancient and indefatigable force whose heavy footsteps make the whole Universe shake!”
