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The System Apocalypse Short Story Anthology Volume 1: A LitRPG post-apocalyptic fantasy and science fiction anthology

Page 8

by Tao Wong


  “Where? When?” Roxley said, a burning light erupting from his eyes as he focused on Vir.

  “Sector 182.3. A small blue planet, third from its sun…” Vir listed the little that he knew of the newly initiated System planet. A small, unimportant world.

  0.98 Earth days before System Initiation

  Acquiring the information on the planet “Earth” was simple enough. The System could provide significant data as it had gathered everything from the planet’s numerous and rather extensive entertainment channels. The entertainment methods of the majority sentient species were an archaic form, with a wide variety from solo musical components to flat-imaged projections. Through these entertainment channels, Roxley had access to the entire written history of the planet. Or at least, the important parts. Unfortunately, sifting the data for truth, especially those sourced from this “Internet,” had been interesting. Numerous sources were available, often contradictory in all but the most basic facts. Finding and understanding a “true” source would have been impossible in the hour or so that they had without the aid of their AIs. Luckily, competing historic sources were not a new thing in the Galaxy.

  To speed up their assessment of the information, Roxley and Vir had split the task. Roxley tackled the information glut to understand politics, society, and the psychology of the dominant species on this “Earth” while Vir tackled the security aspects and the Galactic competition they were likely to face.

  “It has been two hours,” said X-124, Roxley’s AI.

  Roxley eyes narrowed, dismissing this rather interesting treatise by this human—Nicollo Machiavelli—as their self-imposed deadline passed. The Truinnar found much of Machiavelli’s recommendations simplistic at the very best, and rather naïve at the worst. Still, the politician might have survived all of three months in a Truinnar court. Long enough to be set aright by the more experienced players.

  “My lord?” Vir said, cocking his head as he indicated for his liege to begin.

  “These humans seem to be the dominant species on the planet, by virtue of their population and ground covered. In fact, they have stamped their dominance on the planet in a very Movana fashion—the number of competing species they have destroyed in the last millennia is staggering. Obviously, the wholesale destruction exhibited is less than optimal for the continued variance in the bioculture of the planet if the System was not arriving. In light of System initiation, their actions might actually have provided them some small grace,” Roxley said. “There are other species of notable intelligence, but it is unknown if they are sufficiently sapient for the System to register them. Certain giant cephalopods come to mind as potential System-registered species, but for our purposes, they are superfluous to our plans.

  “In light of that, I have concentrated research on these humans. They are a relatively young society, low on the initial technology scale, with a lack of fusion engines or space exploration. Sociologically, they have only recently begun their integration as a species. On the Ofpaudr scale, maybe a four, bordering five?”

  The Ofpaudr scale was a well-used scale that denoted the technological development of a society before their initiation into the System. Created by Technologists to classify various races during their regular and insane jaunts outside of the System, the scale helped colonizing System races to grasp the intricacies of such societies. How a System-integrated race dealt with a pre-powered society was very different than how they dealt with a powered society that had begun informational integration.

  “After ascertaining their current level on the Ofpaudr scale, I delved into their psychology. Thankfully, it seems that much of their cultural biases are similar to many of our Galactic brethren—another point in the Technologists’ favor,” Roxley said.

  Vir waved, gesturing for Roxley to continue. There was little point in the discussion, especially with the time crunch they were under.

  “Humans—on a societal level—are easily led. They can be manipulated with a series of benefits and punishments, with only a few specific sticking points. I briefly considered manipulating these ‘religions’ of theirs but discarded it as too short-term a gain for the expenditure of time and Credits required. On a societal level at least, it seems that being the least bad alternative—within an acceptable band, of course—would allow us to gain control in a quick manner.”

  “Good,” Vir said. “That aligns with much of what I have gathered. Your take on an individual level?”

  “The individual…” Roxley shook his head.

  That was the crux of the matter, was it not? In the System, with its rewards for experience, Leveling, occasional Titles, and—on introduction to the System—individualized Perks and new Classes, individuals mattered. Not immediately, of course, especially not for a newly integrated System world. But in the future? In the future, a gifted individual could cause significant problems.

  It was part of the reason why many newly-System integrated worlds were repressed immediately. The level of repression varied of course, and in times past, wholesale slaughter had occurred. The destruction of sentients in newly created worlds had brought about rare direct action by the Galactic Council, with the offending groups and their kin enslaved. Conducting genocidal actions on another group was one of the few System-wide taboos now. While not expressly forbidden, the examples made of many groups who lacked the political backing and power to conduct such actions were a significant deterrent.

  “The individual is more difficult to handle. Humans are varied. I would mark them as an eight on the Dairgax scale,” Roxley said. “Too varied for a general discussion in fact. Local histories have shown that they can be extremely stubborn, worse than the Grimsar. Idiotically suicidal, honor bound, and driven to irrational positions as often as they can be rational, pragmatic, and violent.”

  “You sound like you admire them,” Vir said.

  Roxley smiled slightly, offering a half-shrug. “And your research?”

  “The Duchess Kangana, the Duke Zuka, Viscount Nivoosi, and the Marquise of Pourbet are all looking to expand. Their various liegemen will be in charge of course, notably the Barons Pehan, Erallia, and Kodrix,” Vir said. “Those are the notable opposition we can expect. Various other merchant firms and the like, but with System integration in our sphere, a non-issue.”

  “And not our own liege?” Roxley said sarcastically.

  Vir snorted, just as amused as Roxley by the concept that their liege, the Duke of Ravius, would do anything but sit on his redolent ass and be fellated. “No, my lord.”

  “And the other Barons?”

  “Content.”

  “Then we will be alone in this endeavor.”

  Vir nodded.

  Roxley said, “Not as if that is anything new. Not anymore.”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  Roxley rubbed his chin, considering, then gestured for Vir to continue.

  The guard hesitated before he spoke. “I spent the remainder of the time researching potential threats in the city itself. Considering the likely zone levels that we will face and the geography of the locations, I have narrowed options down to three locations—the United State known as Montana, the island nation of New Zealand, and the nation of Liberia.”

  “Why these three?”

  “Geography, population density, and wildlife. While mutations and spawnings are expected to be controlled for the first few months, we want to edge around existing dangerous creatures,” Vir said. “In that case, we’ll want countries with a low number of dangerous animals. A counter-example of locations we want to avoid would be Australia and the Amazon.”

  “I see,” Roxley said. “And population density?”

  “As discussed. Not too high—or we’d face too great a competition from the Dukes and their men—and not too low, to allow us to coerce help.” A flick of his hand sent Vir’s detailed results and conclusions to Roxley, who perused the information with X-127.

  It took him a few moments before Roxley nodded to Vir to go on.

&
nbsp; “Geography, of course, shapes both potential mining and farming returns, as well as zone expectations. Again, we’re looking for a balance.”

  “As is everyone else,” Roxley said bitterly. “Can we win a bidding war, with our current resources?”

  “No. Which is why I recommend you agree to the Lady Bauber’s request.”

  “You know what she wants…”

  “Yes,” Vir said, his gaze firm. “And it is not that great a sacrifice, is it? For your people.”

  “For my people…” Roxley sighed. “Very well. Arrange a meeting. And send for Vaiko.”

  0.82 Earth days to System Initiation

  “You have done well to keep fit, my lord,” Vaiko said. The hermaphrodite Truinnar tailor moved around Roxley as he carefully adjusted the fit of his latest creation. Of course, the black and silver of Roxley’s house was required, but in this case, it was used as trim for the bright yellow-and-green creation appearing under Vaiko’s flowing hands. The combined Makun hemp and aracahni silk meant that the vest, tails, and pants were both highly protective and comfortable.

  “Thank you, Vaiko. And thank you for coming at such short notice,” Roxley said as he looked at the finished creation before summoning a hologram to review his new image.

  “You know thanks is not needed, my lord,” Vaiko said. “It was my pleasure to craft this for you. Your return has been much anticipated.”

  Roxley smiled thinly, looking at his clothing. He tracked the green and yellow of his suit, a sure sign that he danced for the Lady Bauber and not himself. A dangerous thing, just like the Ball itself. Returning to the floor after so long, he had no knowledge of the newcomers, their Skills and abilities, their partners and their interests. Doing this with so little prep…

  “This venture of yours is less than wise, dear one,” Lady Bauber had said.

  The Lady was no longer the matriarch of her clan, having been displaced by the marriage of her only son. Yet not once in the last four hundred years had anyone dared to say that the Lady was not a force to be reckoned with. She was, and would be, a power in Truinnar society for many years to come—both due to the immense wealth she had collected and the details of the bodies she had gleaned. If her Class of Society Gossip had not provided significant shelter against assassination attempts, she would have been targeted for her knowledge long ago. Even now, the Gambling Boards kept a running bet on her eventual death or kidnapping.

  “Perhaps. But it is the only one left for me,” Roxley had said. “Will you agree to my request?”

  “My support for you wearing my colors?” Lady Bauber nodded. “But I expect a good showing, you understand that, no?”

  “Have I ever provided one that was not?” Roxley said. Left unsaid was the fact that he needed to place because even with the Lady’s support, Roxley needed to acquire more funds. While Vir would speak with the usual array of bankers, industrialists, and merchants to acquire Credits, it was unlikely he could get enough. The remainder was something Roxley would have to find. Doing the only thing he really was good at.

  “Good. Then we have a deal. Dance for me, dear one. Dance and beat that hag Lia.”

  In his mind’s eye, Roxley saw himself bowing to the holographic projection. Saw the vindictive flash of a smile on Bauber’s face as she’d killed the connection. And the chill that ran through him when he considered if he was the one who had fallen for her trick, or was it Lia?

  Who was he kidding? Roxley’s smile turned bitter. With the real players of the Great Dance, like the Lady Bauber, those two objectives were not mutually exclusive. And were likely just the start of her plans. All someone as inexperienced as Roxley could do was grit his teeth and accept that he was a backup partner in the Dance.

  It was up to him to make sure he was not a disposable partner.

  0.69 Earth days to System Initiation

  The site of the Ball was one short, sponsored Shop teleportation away. As Roxley stepped away from the teleportation pad, he winced at the brutal heat of the dance floor. The regulations were very specific on the kinds of clothing and armaments that could be used, leaving only the Skills of the dancer and his partner for the most part. As such, while his clothing had increased durability enchantments, it had no enhanced attributes, Skills, or other advantages.

  To ensure the sanctity of the rules, the glowering Grimlak referee stomped over, his four-foot frame holding up a portable scanner. The Baron took the intrusion to his personal space with equanimity, having gone through the routine multiple times. He even vaguely recognized the bearded Grimlak, though his memory offered no name. It was possible that Roxley had never received it—the last time he had been on the floor, he had not cared to learn such trivialities. On that note…

  “Thank you,” Roxley said, inclining his head as the Grimlak indicated he had completed his job.

  When the Grimlak looked surprised, Roxley tried to suppress a twinge of irritation, knowing that such a reaction was understandable. Most of the dancers had little care or consideration for the referees who oversaw the contest. Unlike the judges, the referees could do little to help a competitor win but much to ensure they lost—mostly in catching the competitors breaking the rules. Better to be cold and cordial, professional instead of friendly. Less likely to see accusations of favoritism.

  As Roxley stepped away from the teleportation pad, he took in his surroundings with practiced eyes. Black stone and off-white metal beneath his feet and the fluttering banners of contestants and their sponsors all reminded Roxley of dozens of other dance floors. The Ball—which was just another name for the contest—was being held on a platform that floated on a sea of lava. While the volcano was unlikely to erupt, the potential that it could added spice to the viewing numbers. Only high durability, stacked Resistances, and the careful regulation of force shields kept the platform from completely melting under the intense heat. Even inside the force shields, the air rippled from the heat that bled through. Outside, the inferno would consume all but the most powerful Master Classers.

  “You’re here,” a wintry voice greeted Roxley.

  The Truinnar turned to spot his partner. The tall, elegant man was clad in yellow and green, but the trimming of his clothing indicated his rank—the pure white of a commoner.

  “Bress.” Roxley tried—he really did—to keep his voice serene and calm. But the slight hitch in his voice, the increase in his pulse gave away his real feelings. Bress Kogen, his ex-partner and now partner again, was as handsome as he had always been. The minor scar on his forehead that drifted into his hairline caught Roxley’s eye. The cursed attack refused to heal, even now.

  “What do you think you are doing here?” Bress said, cold fury in his voice.

  “Dancing for our lady, no?”

  “Without practice. Without research,” Bress growled. “Tell me that you at least brought Purity.”

  “Of course. Tell me about our competition.”

  “Funnily enough, you know most of them. It seems many of the younger competitors pulled out when they heard the Corinthian was joining. Only the truly angry or ambitious have stayed.” Bress’s hand shifted, pointing at a pair of Truinnar. After a couple of disastrous Balls, these days only Truinnar were allowed to compete. “You know Iod. Her new partner, Amelu, is one of the latter group. He feels your title is a sham. Fast, known for his use of the Six Helix and a heat shield that is doubly effective here. The former leading pair on the boards.”

  Roxley inclined his head, flexing his will for a second as he attempted to Observe the other two. To his utter lack of surprise, the Skill did nothing. Only a total fool left his Status open for viewing, especially in such a competitive environment.

  “Next up. The pairing of Carz and Sopin.”

  Roxley sniffed, giving vent to his views on the infamous pair. Even in his time, the pair were well-known rogue competitors, inclined to break the rules to win and hope not to get caught. Since the referees were mortal and playbacks weren’t allowed by tradition, rule-breakin
g was viable.

  “They’ve added a new trick to their repertoire, a semi-sentient ice whip that gives them area control of the floor. A bad choice for this location.”

  While magic and System-registered artifacts were protected from “normal” environmental factors, they were in no way in a normal location.

  Bress inclined his head further to the right. “Tomaidh and Xoxe. Up-and-coming pair. Ranked third. She’s a summoner, he’s an acrobat.”

  “Is he now?” Roxley’s eyes raked over the pair. Tomaidh was tall, nearly seven feet, and angular, but the tight, almost leotard clothing showed off the sculpted muscles that covered his body. As for Xoxe, she was clad in a flowing red gown with orange and yellow highlights, showcasing their sponsor, the Viscount of Renyeh’s colors and her own house colors. That made Roxley hiss. “What is a Herdan doing here?”

  “Black sheep.”

  Roxley’s lips turned up as he eyed the shoulder length of her hair. Second cousin at most, not one of the main branches. “Very well. Next?”

  Before Bress could continue to detail their opponents, the referee walked to the center of the stage. A staff appeared in his hand before the short, portly referee pounded the end of the metal-tipped staff on the floor. A rolling rumble echoed through the volcano, calling the participants to attention.

  “The time has come.

  The hour is here.

  Let all those who seek honor stand.

 

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