Chapter Two
All I could do
during the ten minutes it had taken to fix the ship was watch helplessly as the
Raiders went for the Relic. More drones and three cargo ships appeared from the
shipyard and headed for the frigate: reinforcements!
The Relic’s heavy ECGs spewed fire three
times in a row, downing the cargo ships, then fell silent. They didn’t have
enough energy. The tractor beams were consuming most of it.
Space was rife with battle as the Haash
confronted both the Raiders and the drones. Still, they were outnumbered badly.
I put my foot down. Hold on, guys! Steady just a bit more!
“I can’t see them! Where are they? Where
are they-“ an animal growl rose to a scream of agony.
They’d downed Danezerath! The remains of
his yrob sped past me.
I entered the dogfight head-on,
attacking the nearest Raider and planting the remaining ammo into the skirt of
its cockpit. Molten metal splattered everywhere. The Raider’s AI attempted to
change course - too late. His deadly ship kept accelerating, strafing
haphazardly, until it rammed one of the drifting cargo ships and disappeared in
a splash of flames.
The laser pulses of three Phantom
Raiders continued to rake the Relic’s hull. The frigate shuddered with a number
of internal explosions. Its armor burst in places, gutted by decompression.
Ugly long gaps in the hull spewed tornadoes of murky discharge and clusters of
technogenic debris.
Jurgen wasn’t replying. The frigate’s signature
was crimson and deformed.
Her shields were down. The Relic drifted
on, her engines dead, as she sacrificed her last remaining watts of energy to
the towing beams. The three-mile asteroid obediently followed in the frigate’s
wake. Still, its path was littered with debris which continuously collided with
the asteroid’s surface, demolishing the last remaining structures of the
ancient mine shaft.
My ECGs choked and shut up. I only had
one charged accumulator left complete with two localizer lasers connected to
it. The rest of my weapons were out of commission.
We were one step away from immortality
and one step short of death.
Still, there were only three Raiders
left.
I accelerated. I’d managed to burn the
shock absorbers so now every maneuver pinned my body to the seat. The Raiders
noticed me and scattered. You didn’t have to be a mind reader to second-guess
their actions. Two of them would try to attack me while the third one would
wait for an opportunity to finish me off.
I steered my ship within a hair’s
breadth of the Relic, aligning myself with it as I pierced the murky clouds of
debris.
“Someone, cover me!” I wheezed. “I’m
engaging!”
I shot up vertically. My vision
darkened. The mangled ship’s outline on the screens keeled over and began to
distance itself. I had one Raider on a collision course while another one was
trying to intercept me as I maneuvered. His laser beams traced past, barely
missing my engines.
An yrob
flashed past, hacked into several pieces, its frayed remains of fiber optic cables
sparking. The scorched stump of the pilot’s seat trailed behind, tethered by a
cable.
I passed the Raider head-on, just
managing to get in a burst from my lasers. The two others flanked me from
behind. They weren’t firing yet, trying to save power. Very soon they’d be able
to shoot me at point blank.
Take that, you bastards!
I lingered, waiting for the right
moment. Just as the Raiders were about to fire, I released a cloud of nanites
and sent them a mental image.
Object Replication
Space exploded.
My mind went blank. One Raider less.
Still speeding, he’d rammed the swarm of cargonite pellets head-on. The second
one had managed to swerve, avoiding an inevitable collision.
The Relic’s signature was dying away as
the frigate had reached the edge of the asteroid belt heading for Argus. But
was there anyone still alive on board?
“Jurgen... Arbido... Frieda... anyone!
Talk to me!”
Immediately the frigate’s tractor beams
croaked. The three-mile rock tumbled and collided with a few smaller boulders.
The collisions threw it off course. Slowly the asteroid began to drift away
from the collision site, heading back into the asteroid belt.
The two Phantom Raiders were still
following me. Space around me seethed with countless collisions. The stars in
my screens faded, obscured by clouds of debris. I had no nanites left nor could
I replicate them: the suspended mixture of fine rock dust and incandescent gas
was not good for nanite replication.
I killed speed, forcing my ship to dive
under the chaotically spinning body of a cargo ship.
The Raiders whizzed past, unable to
react in time, then swung round, looking for their evasive target.
They didn’t have it easy, either. Their
power field emitters were also down, their hulls planished with impacts. Expert
warriors, the Haash had put up a good fight. Pale light seeped through numerous
breaches in the Raiders’ armor. Their antimatter units had had it. They were
destabilizing.
I was going to kill them, then catch up
with the asteroid and see if I couldn’t get to the artifact. There was no other
option.
The Raiders had located me and followed
my radiation trail, the two of them. My reactor was damaged, about to explode
at any moment, but I wasn’t even considering ejecting it. I had to make it last
as long as I could. The alternative was a long slow death drifting through
space.
I skirted the cargo ship and went into a
spin, preventing the Raiders from opening fire. I then ducked into a huge hole
in its hull and swung round, reducing speed with a few calculated pulses.
The enemy kept tailing me but my
radiation trail wasn’t a reliable target - rather more a guideline.
The Raiders’ signatures kept
approaching. I spent my last nanites on activating Piercing Vision. My ship’s
sensors had been scorched dead, the cockpit depressurized. Many of the control
panels had melted.
There they were.
They were still keeping together. The
leader turned toward the cargo ship as if sensing the danger coming from within
its breach holes, trying to second-guess my actions.
The other Raider’s guns were down but
its shield emitters still worked. It was now trying to stretch its sickly power
field to cover its leader.
I shouldn’t let this happen! My lasers
couldn’t breach their shield.
Thanks to Piercing Vision, my mind
expander could “see” the targets well. The nanites kept streaming information
but their quantities were dwindling. The Raiders couldn’t see me: my radiation
trail created a shapeless blind spot.
I had but a split second to come to a
decision.
My thrusters cast a fiery glow onto the
ship’s hull. Slowly I turned my Condor round, leaving the breach on the
portside. A powerful side thrust pushed my ship out to face the enemy.
Fire!
Molten metal spewed everywhere. Deep
scars started to glow on the Raider’s hull, breathing heat, like the scores
left by a clawed gauntlet.
My last accumulator was dead. My ship
strafed to one side: mangled and defenseless, stripped of its technogenic
power. The overheated reactor gushed radiation everywhere.
I didn’t expect another explosion. The
apprehension of my own doom had tricked me into desperation. But I’d smoked the
last Raider, after all!
Both of us dissolved in a circle of
fire. A torrent of debris shot past. Some of it hit me, sending my Condor into
an uncontrollable spin.
The accumulator indicators glowed
weakly. I tasted blood in my mouth. I didn’t feel as if I’d won. I felt empty
inside. I could barely move. Communications were dead. I had almost no thruster
fuel left.
* * *
The asteroid that used to be the
Outlaws’ base continued to drift through the asteroid belt. I navigated my
disfigured ship past countless rocks and blocks of ice of every shape and size,
catching up with it slowly but surely.
I released the last remaining probe. The
spherical device headed toward the structure’s vacuum dock gates. They’d been
gutted. Deep cracks had ripped through the ancient mine’s framework.
In expectation of the probe’s report, I
plotted the trajectories of the nearest asteroids when I detected a Condor
drifting nearby.
“Liori!”
Her ship was dead, its reactor block
ejected. Most armor plates had been destroyed, the grid of her Condor’s support
beams resembling a skeleton’s ribcage.
While the probe was busy studying the
ancient mine, I swung my ship around and closed with the drifting ship.
“Hold on, sweetheart... just hold on, my
love,” I mouthed non-stop. Sweetheart,
darling, my love - and I used to think that these words were hopelessly
dated and meaningless!
The automatic docking system kicked in,
connecting the two crippled ships with a short pressurized hose.
Her cockpit was pitch-black. All the
control panels were fused solid. Her empty pilot’s seat had been sliced in two
by a laser beam. Tiny droplets of hydraulic liquid floated around it in zero
gravity, having escaped the emergency anti-G system.
I received no feedback from the nanites
that used to make up Liori’s avatar. She had used them all up when she’d run
out of both ammo and power.
I refused to believe this was the end of
her. A lump in my throat prevented me from breathing. I felt like screaming.
Still, I clenched my teeth and perched on the seat’s edge, scanning a
jury-rigged adapter.
Her cyber module was damaged. Its
neurochips sported fire damage. Right here and now it was pretty impossible to
tell whether Liori’s identity matrix had survived the predicament.
I used a laser from my repair kit to cut
out a fragment of the control panel with her cyber module still in it, then
placed it gingerly into my inventory. I cast one last look at the silent
cockpit and began retracing my steps back on board my own ship.
During the last few days, I kept getting
these moments of absolute confusion. My life in other game worlds had been
exciting and simple: trouble-free. Words like grief, desperation or loss never entered my vocabulary. They
had no meaning. Now that they’d revealed their true sense, my heart struggled
to accept them.
The world had changed forever. Your past
was dead; your future wasn’t born yet. All you had was this now-moment and the
fire-polished fragments of a cybermodule in your inventory. Plus the faint hope
that you could still recover the bytes containing the digitized soul of the
woman you loved.
* * *
I was closing in on the asteroid. I
suppressed all irrelevant thoughts. First I had to get to the Founders’
artifact, then take it back to the Relic and restore the cybermodule containing
Liori’s identity. Together we’d be able to work out what was going on, then
find our way around our new environment.
The target loomed ever closer. The data
collected by the probe seemed positive. The ancient artifact was still
functioning. The numerous impacts had damaged the asteroid, creating a plethora
of deep cracks in its surface which considerably simplified my task. Basically,
the asteroid was only held together by the mine’s powerful superstructure made
of cargonite alloy.
I was really pressed for time. The
asteroid belt was growing denser. Hundreds of rocks of every shape and size
crowded the asteroid, most of them capable of dealing the final blow which
could disintegrate the ancient facility.
The reactor had stabilized at 30%. I
forwarded all of its power to the shields. Manipulating the maneuvering
thrusters, I steered the ship into a dark crevice and began threading my way
through the web of distorted and degraded support structures.
My speed kept dropping. I couldn’t help
that. My path grew more littered with my every turn. Fractured walls revealed
glimpses of mangled rooms - once embedded into the rock and now ripped to
pieces. My mind expander greedily absorbed all available data. This was where
the Outlaws clan had built Avatroid!
There must have been loads of precious
data still left in the ruins of their cybernetic laboratories, like nanite
activation codes which could open new areas of nanite technologies yet unknown
to me.
The sensors kept beeping anxiously. The
walls of the crevice kept shrinking ever closer - but I now was a mere hundred
feet away from my target!
I engaged reverse thrusters, then
stopped. The ship couldn’t go any further. I had to get out.
The rock walls quivered treacherously as
new cracks traced across them. In places, they dissolved in soundless rockfalls
filling the narrow space with sharp fragments of stone that floated in the
void, endlessly colliding.
My armored suit wasn’t going to take it.
I had to find a different way. I activated navigation lasers and cleared the
shortest path with a series of pulses. With a circular motion of my guns, I cut
an opening in the nearest mangled bulkhead that offered access to the surviving
premises.
The docking hose hissed, expanding. The
plasma torches snapped into action.
I touched a sensor, disabling my suit’s
security harness. I was just about to get up when a premonition of impending
danger assaulted my nerves.
The signal had come from the probe still
left outside. One of the many asteroids was on a direct collision course!
It crashed.
The walls of the crevice began to close
around my ship. The force field throbbed. I heard a screeching sound as the
ship’s stabilizers were being compressed into its hull.
My mind writhed in agony under the
direct neurosensory contact with the ship’s systems as if it was my own flesh
being crushed.
My mind crashed. Mercifully, it expired.
* * *
Gradually I came round.
The data I received from my implants was
sparse. The area around me was saturated with radiation. My mangled Condor
drifted amid the rocky remains of the destroyed asteroid. Not a single active
power implant within the scanners range, meaning that the Founders’ device was
no more. We’d lost it for good.
My mind expander kept piecing data
together, connecting the ship’s surviving modules. I managed to stabilize the
reactor at 10%. One of the force field generators offered all of 0.3 megawatts.
This was all the protection I currently could offer against radiation and any
further impacts.
I wasn’t going to give up so easily.
I set the communications automatic
repeat to Call Relic and switched to
manual controls. I had to get out of this cesspit. Then I’d have to scan each
and every one of the asteroid’s fragments while I still had time. Very soon
Avatroid’s fleet would be here. You never know, the Founders’ artifact might
have simply been deactivated with the impact.
I steered the ship slowly and gingerly
past the larger fragments until I entered a safe orbit around the swirling mass
of debris.
Liori’s Condor drifted nearby. I sent
some nanites on board her de-energized ship with a dozen micro nuclear
batteries I’d robbed from the survival kit. They were going to activate the
on-board scanners. With two sets of scanners, I could finish the job much
quicker.
An incoming call, finally! I had the
frigate on the line. Judging by the signal’s bearings, the Relic was still
heading for Argus!
“Zander? Where are you?” Jurgen’s hoarse
voice sounded first, followed by a murky image. He looked even more gaunt and
weary than normal.
“I’m at the asteroid. It’s been
destroyed.”
“So it’s the end of us, then?” he asked
bluntly.
“I’m just trying to scan it. I’ll stay
here for as long as it takes. How’s everything?”
“The Haash have respawned. They’ve lost
their yrobs. The Wearongs are dead.
The children are all right. Their room was well protected. What do you want us
to do now?”
“Just don’t lose hope.”
“Is Liori with you?”
“She is. Her cybermodule’s been damaged.
She’s incommunicado at the moment.”
“Zander? I think the artifact is
ruined.”
This wasn’t an easy conversation. “If I
don’t find it, we might try to contact the Oasis.”
“The hybrid? You think he might help?”
Jurgen’s voice perked up. “Do you want me to go there and speak to him?”
“No. I’ll give him a call from here. I
have Oasis within my direct line of vision. You take care of the ship. Do
whatever repairs are necessary and check the life support. Give Charon a ship:
let him go collect the fragments of their yrobs.
I’ll take care of Liori’s Condor. Tell Charon that I’d also appreciate his
bringing any fragments of the Raiders he can find. We need to study them.”
“Just what are you hoping for? Tell me!”
He'd lost all optimism. I could read it
in his stare.
“If the artifact’s destroyed, we’ll have
to build something similar,” I added a note of confidence to my voice. “Between
my Mnemotechnics and your Technologist skill, we might come up with something.”
Jurgen sat up. “Then you should come
back! No good wasting time taking stupid risks!”
“There’re loads of fragments of various
devices here. I’ve never heard about most of them. I’ll keep searching for the
artifact while leveling up my skills. Creating artificial neuronets will demand
a very high Mnemotechnics level.”
“Avatroid’s fleet is coming,” Jurgen
reminded me.
“I know. Which is why I’m asking you to
take care of the frigate. I want you to dock it to the station and camouflage
its signature. Tell Vandal and Foggs to check the Technologists Clan’s quarters
and search the debris for any data storage devices they might find. The
Founders’ technologies are the key. When I’m back, I’ll need any information
that might help me to level my skills and abilities.”
“Zander, all this rushed leveling will
kill you.”
“It might,” I snapped. “Then Liori will
have to finish it for me, won’t she? Enough of this, Jurgen. We’re losing time.
Let’s each of us do his own job.”
“Very well. As you say,” he sounded
anxious. “I’ll keep communications open just in case.”
“Just please don’t bother me with the
basics. You can take care of them yourself.”
* * *
As we spoke, the nanites had finished
patching up Liori’s Condor. I sent it the instructions to join in the scanning
of the asteroid fragments.
The mnemonic load indicator surged into
the orange as my mind began receiving data from two combat scanning systems.
Translucent schemes of various devices
drifting in space flashed before my eyes: some floating on their own, others
bejeweling angular slabs of rock.
I switched data collection to background
mode and opened the abilities tab. In all honesty, we stood very little chance
of ever locating the artifact. But apart from that, the Outlaws’ base had been
literally stuffed with equipment. Most of the already-discovered devices
belonged to the Founders’ technosphere. I’d never studied them before. In just
a few brief minutes of data collection, my Alien Technologies skill had already
grown two points.
This was a good start. Still, too early
to celebrate. I kept replicating nanites over and over again, then sending them
deep into the mangled mines toward the surviving rooms of the ancient
installation. Soon they would begin streaming more data; in the meantime I
could finally take a breather.
I injected myself with a dose of combat
metabolites. My mind cleared somewhat. The mnemonic load indicator reluctantly
shrank into the yellow zone.
I switched on the long-distance
communications. The far-off spark of the Oasis station glimmered on its grid.
Obeying my mental command, the optical multiplier kicked in. The image zoomed
in, gaining detail.
The hybrid was neither our friend nor
foe. He was a synthetic identity, an AI pieced together by the corporation out
of the dead players’ neurograms. He was, intrinsically, the result of a
chilling otherworldly experiment that brewed fear and resentment.
When we’d last met, he publicly declared
himself the opposite of Avatroid, announcing his intention to restore Oasis to
its original glory.
Still, it looked as if it wouldn’t come
to anything. The skeleton of the ancient station was still dark and gloomy -
not a sign of any repairs in sight. There was one other thing I couldn’t
understand: why hadn’t the hybrid even attempted to help the Eurasia? I knew
from experience that his technological skill at least equaled those of Avatroid.
He could have thwarted the Phantom Raiders’ attack - and still he hadn’t lifted
a finger to save the defeated colonial fleet.
I activated the communications with
Oasis. The only things that the hybrid seemed to have restored were the locator
tower and the transport beam control devices associated with it. He'd
apparently used those ancient alien systems in order to spy on the Eurasia
fleet and listen in to their command frequencies; he’d even managed to beam me
up to the Eurasia station with the orders to bring him Genesis: an ancient
planet-forming device safely stashed away on Darg.
Never mind. This wasn’t the right time
to rake up recent developments.
A green indicator lit up on the control
panel. I had a connection with Argus; still, no one seemed in a hurry to answer
me.
Whatever had happened to the hybrid? Why
wouldn’t he speak to me?
When my Darg mission had been over, I
couldn’t help wondering why he hadn’t claimed Genesis’ scanner files that I’d
made. Those were indispensable for him to restore the station. Why hadn’t he
tried to buy them off me or even take them by force?
Now I understood: he’d had nowhere to
hurry to. He knew about his own true nature - and certainly about our desperate
situation. In case of my death, the neurograms of my disintegrating identity
would return to the corporation’s server where he’d immediately be granted
access to them.
He wasn’t our friend. Oh, no.
“Zander... what is it?” I could barely
recognize his voice through the interference. “What do you... want?”
That was weird. There were no obstacles
in the laser transmitter’s path capable of distorting or diffusing its signal.
Could it be the hybrid? He seemed to have blocked the video channel. His speech
was slurred and faltering.
“I need you,” I said. “I know that you
need the Genesis files in order to restore Oasis. I’ll give them to you. In
return, you must teach me to build artificial neuronets.”
“Not interested,” he said, wheezing as
if his every word was a physical struggle.
“Why? Tell us!” Jurgen butted in. “Don’t
you understand we have children on board?” his desperate voice rose to a
scream.
“I... don’t... care. I... won’t help...
anyone. I have... my own... problems...”
The communications indicator blinked and
went out.
I sat there, gasping. “Did you hear
that?”
“I did,” Jurgen echoed. “What a piece of
shit!”
“Never mind. Forget him. It wasn’t meant
to happen. I’m sure we’ll know everything when the time is right.”
“Zander?” Frieda chimed in. “Any news?
What does the scanning have to show?”
“I haven’t found the artifact yet if
that’s what you mean. My levels keep growing but not as fast as I thought they
would. The scanners keep bringing lots of interesting stuff but nothing we can
use at the moment.”
“Arbido seems to have an idea,” Jurgen
joined in.
You’ve received a
new level!
Your Mnemotechnics
skill has grown 1 pt.!
Your Alien
Technologies skill has grown 3 pt.!
You have 2 new
nanite activation codes available!
“Sorry, Jurgen, can it wait until I’m
back? I’m a bit busy right now.”
“Very well. You do what you can.”
* * *
I opened my character’s characteristics.
The rapid developments of the last few
hours had forced me to ignore system messages. My mind barely registered them,
dismissing their contents.
Within that time, I’d destroyed the
shipyard, smoked about a hundred drones, downed five Raiders and was constantly
busy with nanites.
No wonder I’d grown 12 levels.
My Robot Technician skill which I’d
received way back on Argus and which had grown 3 pt. during my memorable fight
with Dargian pythons, had now risen another 50%.
The question remained, was this
information worth anything anymore?
The ambiguity of the situation was quite
unsettling. On one hand, once I’d learned the truth I’d stopped paying the same
attention to the char’s characteristics as before. On the other, I was
contradicting my own logic still putting my faith into the abilities I knew I
had.
The truth had to lie somewhere in
between. I wouldn’t be surprised to discover some real-life skills integrated
into the game interface.
At the moment, all I was interested in
was nanite activation codes. They were definitely real. I knew that from
experience!
Mnemotechnics Skill
Current level: 25
Abilities
available:
Replication, 15
Steel Mist, 5
Object Replication,
4
Piercing Vision, 3
Integration, 2
Breakdown, 5
Plasma Blast, 5
Differential Nanite
Control, 3
Disintegration, 10
System Failure, 5
Advanced
integration, 2
The Call, 1
Self-Sacrifice, 1
Plasma Lash, 2
(requires a generator built by Object Replication)
You have 2 new
nanite activation codes!
You have 19
characteristic, skill and ability points available!
On Liori’s advice, I’d boosted
Disintegration already during our battle with the Raiders. As a close-range
weapon, it was truly lethal - but as it had turned out, using it required a
powerful ship with excellent shields.
We couldn’t even fathom the true
potential of these ancient alien technologies. Even at my current level of
Disintegration, we could have deterred the Raiders’ attack had I been on board
the Relic and had it had enough energy to power the shields. I was beginning to
understand that Founders’ ships didn’t really need any cumbersome weapon
systems which were a pain to operate. All they needed was a well-trained crew
with advanced nanite control skills. The range of nanite application was so
broad one couldn’t even imagine all the possibilities it offered.
In which case, who had equipped the
Relic with all those coil guns, laser beams and plasma batteries? We had to
examine the ship again and try to envision it the way it had been when it had
first been conceived.
But I digress.
My mind was in turmoil. The sheer
thought of all the mysteries contained within the Founders’ technosphere was
overwhelming. As my combat with the Raiders had just shown, I could select a
target by focusing on it and then decide whether I wanted to disable it or
disintegrate it on the spot.
Let’s see what the activation codes
would offer.
I entered them in a special box, one
after another.
New ability
available: Global Net. You can now receive status reports from devices located
in other star systems. Requires 70 Mnemotechnics and a functioning hyperspace
communications module.
New Ability available: Active Shield. From now on, the nanites you
create will automatically react to any threat by forming a protective cover.
Requires 30 Mnemotechnics, 20 Replication, 10 Differential Nanite Control and
an implanted artificial neuronet module to recognize any potential threat and
control nanite groups automatically.
The new abilities’ icons were gray.
Blocked. What a shame.
The nanites busy exploring the asteroid
fragments kept streaming data to two scanning devices which relayed it to my
mind expander. I felt increasingly unwell. Once I received another level, my XP
bar began to slow down.
Alien Technologies, 30. Finally! Now I’d be able to examine neurochips.
Actually, I already had two artificial
neuronets available for study. One was the AI module implanted into my nervous
system (yes, the one that used to belong to the monster who’d attempted to take
control over me when our assault group had been about to land on Darg). Plus I
had Liori’s identity matrix confined within the cybermodule that the hybrid had
made for me.
I glanced at the sensors. The asteroid
belt seemed calm. Still, I knew this was a lull before the storm. Avatroid was
obliged to send drones to investigate the wreckage of the base which had been
his birthplace.
Which meant I shouldn’t waste time. Let
nanites keep collecting data. I had other things to do.
* * *
A slim plate bespangled with neurochips
floated in mid-air in front of me.
I’d removed the silvery cover. A light
cloud of nanites surrounded the object, awaiting my command.
I was taking my time. I had no margin
for error. The neurochips were oxidized but not destroyed. The cover had taken
the worst of the heat exposure. Restoring it wasn’t a problem.
I began scanning the neurochips trying
to locate the damage.
Gradually a 3D model began forming in my
mental view. I watched the layers of artificial nervous tissue grow, immersing
myself into this yet unfamiliar world of neurons and their complex interwoven
structures which resembled three-dimensional cobwebs. Some of its threads were
broken, unable to transmit electric impulses.
My breathing was fast and deep. I had to
remain calm. I was to locate one undamaged neurochip, then copy its structure.
I didn’t notice the time fly. My tension
was such that reality had faded.
The object’s matrix has been created and downloaded to your mind
expander.
Finally, the data processing stopped. I
channeled all available resources into copying a simple neuronet module built
by the hybrid. They were the building blocks of every AI. If I managed to build
it, then-
That was irrelevant. The nanites were
ready.
The replication
matrix accepted.
The mental image
recognized.
Warning! The object
cannot be replicated. Creating it requires 100 Mnemotechnics.
Dammit!
Trying not to disrupt my concentration,
I pulled the Founders’ glove out of my inventory and slipped it on.
You have activated an item: Modulator.
Class: rare, indestructible.
Permanent effect:
+1 to Intellect
+1 to Learning Skills
+2 to Alien Technologies
+1 to Mnemotechnics
Let’s do it again.
Object replication. Come on, now!
The object cannot
be replicated. Your skill level is too low.
Dark circles swirled before my eyes. I
was shaking with tension. As I tried to catch my breath and concentrate, the
Founders’ glove blurred, enveloped by an aura. Threadlike charges of energy
reached out for the broken cybermodule, touching its chips and branching off as
if exploring them.
Not enough data to commence automatic repairs. Please connect
specialized databases to continue.
The system message brought me back to
reality. Did that mean that by the Founders’ standards, an artificial neuronet
was a rather ordinary device?
I checked my interface again.
Apparently, this glove - part of an ancient gear kit I’d come across back on
Argus - had a number of built-in functions. Until now, their controls had been
disabled but now that I’d gone up through the levels, I discovered a new entry
in the Repairs tab:
Damaged Equipment
Repairs
Requires: a
Founders’ glove (a Modulator gear version), 30 Alien Technologies and 30
Mnemotechnics.
I could do that!
I selected the freshly-scanned model of
the functioning neurochip and uploaded it to the Modulator.
The replication matrix accepted. Please select the object requiring
repairs.
I focused on the cybermodule’s damaged
elements, selecting them one by one.
Task accepted. Now attempting to restore the neuronet units using the
sample provided.
I watched closely as the threadlike
charges of energy enveloped the damaged plate. Nanites obediently joined in as
the Modulator used them as raw materials. A separate bar appeared in my
interface to report on the repairs’ status.
An emergency signal entered my mind,
disrupting my thoughts. Several weak notches appeared just within the scanners’
range. Avatroid’s fleet!
I called off the nanites still busy
studying the asteroid’s destroyed laboratories. They’d failed to locate neither
the artifact itself nor its fragments. Still, there was nothing I could do
about it. We had to make ourselves scarce.
Both The Call and Object Replication
worked like a dream. The recalled nanites formed two strong cables, towing
Liori’s ship safely in my Condor’s wake.
I headed toward Argus. Considering my
engines’ feeble output, it would probably take me six hours to get there, give
or take.
I checked the auto pilot. It worked
fine. I double-checked the repairs bar. It was barely moving even though the
nanobots kept toiling away.
I could barely keep my eyes open. I
hadn’t slept for over twenty-four hours. I needed some rest. Or rather, my
mortal body needed it, left on far-off Earth.
Trying to fight off fatigue wasn’t a
good idea. I was beyond exhaustion.
* * *
I awoke to a quaint long-forgotten
feeling, warm and peaceful. The way I used to wake up when I’d been very, very
young.
I opened my eyes. Was this the same old
cockpit? Dozens of holographic tablets exuded a soft light scrolling data interspersed
with schemes of strange devices. The dead fire-damaged control consoles towered
further away. Overhead, breach holes leaked darkness.
The cockpit was at the mercy of the
infinite vacuum. Half-turned toward me, Liori sat cross-legged, leaning comfortably
in a seat formed by nanites.
She wasn’t wearing a pressure suit.
Still, the resemblance was striking. Sensing my stare, she turned round.
What was technology doing to us?
Our minds touched, then merged in an
acute, desperate bout of gentleness.
The cold melted away. The darkness
shrank back. Warm sunrays lit up our faces. A breeze ruffled my hair. The gray
outlines of sea cliffs acquired shape and depth. The roots of squat pine trees
clung to the cracked rock. Flat waves shimmied along the pebbled beach.
An uncontrollable surge of emotion
surged through us, burning our minds, distorting reality and wiping away the
panorama of deep space. We failed to keep our balance on the edge.
Darkness embraced us.
Connection error. The external neuronet is not connected to your mind
expander. Direct contact is not possible.
“Zander? Can we ever be together?”
Liori’s voice brought me back into the Condor’s savaged cockpit.
The dull glow of screens assaulted my
eyes. Once again the veil of nanites formed her image. This was enough to drive
anyone crazy. Still, I resisted insanity.
“We’ll manage,” I answered with a quiet
confidence. “There must be a way.”
Liori returned to her seat and zoomed in
the repairs status bar.
99%
“You’ve repaired me. Repaired. Do you understand? I’m a
machine now. A cyber system that can be fixed or rebooted. And what if we don’t
find a solution? Does that mean I’ll stay here all alone?”
Cruel but true.
Liori cut herself short, as if
regretting her hasty outburst. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”
Both of us were crushed by this
spontaneous mind contact which had ended as abruptly as it had started.
How did I want to bring it back! Then
again, why not? The module containing Liori’s identity was within my reach.
Problem was, I couldn’t unseal my helmet in the surrounding vacuum.
Still, this was something I could solve.
I activated Nanite Replication.
Starboard echoed with a dull thumping sound as I sacrificed a few of the ship’s
armor plates. I had no other source of cargonite available.
Liori cast me a quizzical look. “Are you
increasing the Steel Mist? Why?”
“Just in case.”
The nanites had already commenced
emergency sealing procedures. They might need several minutes to repair all the
numerous points of damage to the ship’s hull. In the meantime, I motioned to
the screens, trying to assuage her anxiety, “What have you been doing?”
“Just fooling around. I tried to look
into the game’s interface and see which of our abilities were part of the
Founders’ technosphere and which were just figments of game developers’
fantasy. Here, take a look.”
Four holographic tablets moved closer to
me.
Each one revealed a first-person view.
My interface was the one on the right. I
immediately recognized its translucent ability icons crowding the quick access
slots and below them, Life and Physical Energy bars. Danger sensors of all
kinds waited drowsily in their gray boxes. The fine inconspicuous lines of the
scanning grid covered my entire field of vision. The gravitech and life support
power levels glowed green; the outlines of life support cartridges that might
need changing were highlighted in yellow. A flat micro nuclear battery unit was
hatched in red.
The second screenshot was definitely
Charon’s. It showed a fragment of the Market Desk back on Argus. The Haash’
eyesight is different from ours in that they can see the objects at the
periphery of their eyesight, as well as objects’ thermal imprints. For that
reason, the three-dimensional image on the screen looked unusual as every
object was outlined in greens of every shade and degree of intensity.
“Take a look at the icons’ design and
positioning,” Liori said softly.
I took a second look - and was
astounded. You’d think that a Haash interface would be utterly alien to the
point of being unidentifiable. Still, his interface was a carbon copy of mine!
I turned to the third tablet. This was
the screenshot I’d received from the Disciples’ leader back on Darg. When we’d
been battling our way through the ancient biological laboratories, Roakhmar had
forwarded me this snapshot in an attempt to help me focus on the target. A
hydra-like monster was careening at us head-on through a long succession of
rooms. Its abominable shape was overlain with elements of the Dargian
interface. The resemblance was striking: the picture was virtually identical to
mine!
The fourth screen showed my ship’s
cockpit in real time, streamed by Liori.
“As you can see, my interface is
identical to the other three,” she said. “Even though it in fact belongs to an
ancient AI."
This revelation was mind-blowing. The
only difference in the four layouts created by four unrelated space
civilizations was in their languages: the tongues of the Haash, the Dargians
and humans respectively. All the rest, down to the relative positioning of the
development branches and their effects was identical!
“Does that mean that the interface was
built by the Founders?” after having seen it with my own eyes, this was the
logical conclusion.
“Absolutely. The way I see it, the
military back on Earth discovered some artifact - a neuroimplant, most likely.
They must have studied it and used it as a prototype to build more of them.
Then they used us to test them. I’m pretty sure the Haash and the Dargians
followed the same route. Plus dozens of other civilizations we know yet nothing
about,” Liori turned to me, hope in her gaze. “Do you understand? None of our
abilities are made-up! The Founders built this interface to use it themselves
in order to travel through the Universe. Even if I’m the only one who
survives,” tears glistened in her eyes, “I’ll level up Mnemotechnics and bring
you all back to life, I promise! I’ll piece your identities together neurogram
by neurogram and byte by byte!”
By then, the nanites were done sealing
the ship. I sent a mental command, assigning part of the ship’s power to
atmosphere regeneration. Then I removed my helmet, unbuckled and rose, reaching
out my hand.
“Zander? What do you think you’re
doing?”
The thin plate covered with neurochips
clicked shut in its dedicated mind expander slot.
External neuronet
connected. Your Mnemotechnics skill has grown 5 points. Direct neurosensory
contact established.
The gloom of deep space faded away.
Sunrays began to fall on our faces. A
breeze tousled Liori’s hair.
“Zander,” she returned my kiss, nestling
up to me.
Red sand crunched underfoot. A purple
surf broke over the boundless coastline awash with orange light. No idea where
my subconscious had unearthed these images from. For Liori and myself, they’d
forever remain the epitome of happiness.
Black Sun, the third novel of the Phantom Server series by A. Livadny, is available for preorder on Amazon Kindle!
