Web of Worlds

by Michael Atamanov

  One after the other at one-second intervals, all three assault-landing antigravs were engulfed in flames of bright explosion. The thunder-clap was audible even here in the restaurant, and a large piece of wreckage flew up to the dispatcher’s tower, leaving a mark on the armored glass of the third floor.

  Machine Control skill increased to level seventy-three!

  Electronics skill increased to level seventy-four!

  You have reached level eighty!

  You have received three skill points.

  Alright, good thing we hid those bombs! My opponents were shocked and more importantly impressed! Geckho Diplomat Kosta Dykhsh also gave a nervous jerk looking at the spiderweb cracks on the sturdy glass of the restaurant, but limited himself to a few words to nobody in particular: “after these negotiations, you will have to clean up the debris.” That must have been directed at all people regardless of faction. I continued before my opponents’ shock had passed:

  “So then, as far as I understand there were five remaining Sio-Mi-Doris... Shall I find them and destroy them as well? Or are you going to tell me where Gerd Tamara is?”

  “It’s no use pressuring us, Leng Gnat. We don’t have your commander! I swear on my honor!” General Ui-Taka said loudly and in no uncertain terms.

  And so in the silence that fell, the words of the young Mage Diviner sounded out like thunder from a clear sky:

  “The Paladin was separated from the other prisoners and immediately brought to the underground dungeon under the central hexagon citadel!”

  Despite the more senior mage’s outcry demanding he hold his tongue, Gerd Mac-Peu Un-Roi continued:

  “I was ordered not to tell that to anyone, even faction head Gerd Ui-Taka. As far as I know, they intend to sell Gerd Tamara to our allies.”

  What??? Gerd Tamara really had been taken prisoner. And not all the Dark Faction negotiators knew about it. Plus there were some mysterious allies and they were planning to sell our girl to them!

  “Who gave that order? What allies?”

  The Mage Diviner wasn’t fast enough to answer my question. He just went gray in fear as the senior Psionic Mage stood, sharply extended a hand in his direction and gave a command:

  “Die!!!”

  It all happened suddenly. Gerd Mac-Peu clutched his heart and fell right on the table, overturning salad bowls and glasses. And meanwhile the ghastly old man stood up and pointed a crooked finger at me with menacing decisiveness, saying loudly to the closely watching representative of our suzerains:

  “Diplomat Kosta Dykhsh, I would like the record to state that Leng Gnat broke the ceasefire! He attacked our faction’s aircraft and killed our people. And he is planning to kill me! The negotiations are cancelled!”

  “Not at all!” I also stood up and my voice sounded no less loud and decisive. “It was a condition of this ceasefire that the Second Legion be allowed to leave unimpeded! And now it turns out that was not upheld!!! Diplomat Kosta Dykhsh, I wish the record to state that the Dark Faction violated the terms from the outset!”

  Kosta Dykhsh was baffled and said nothing. But then the Psionic Mage suddenly wheezed and foam appeared on his lips. His eyes started to bulge strangely. The old man’s mouth opened wide, trying to say something, then his legs gave out and he fell dead on the floor. Everyone looked at me for some reason but I just threw up my hands:

  “No, I didn’t do that! Notice, my level didn’t change! If I had killed him, it would have given enough experience to level up a couple times at least!”

  Yes it was an iron-clad argument in confirmation of my innocence. Once before I had proven my noninvolvement in the murder of the Great Priestess of the Miyelonian race the same way, so now I instantly got my bearings and hurried to cut off any possible insinuations.

  “Grandfather killed himself!” Minn-O declared decisively. “Every mage has an ampule of contact poison sewn into their robe which is activated by a key word or even mentally. That is why mages cannot be taken prisoner. They can always kill themselves and respawn somewhere safe.”

  “Hrm... What nice negotiations people have,” Uline Tar, silent for a long time, couldn’t hold back and let out a mean comment, releasing some nervous tension. “Is it always like this, Gnat?”

  It was a rhetorical question and needed no answer. Unlike the next one asked by the Geckho Diplomat, who was clearly baffled and didn’t understand what was going on:

  “I can understand why Gerd Avir-Syn killed his ally: so he wouldn’t keep talking. But why kill himself?”

  I had an answer to that question:

  “First of all, he was in a rush to get out of his virt pod to meet the young mage diviner in the real world. He needs to convince him to keep quiet or at least agree on a single consistent version of events. Second, such a theatrical death put me in a bad light, especially after the geezer said I threatened his life. Third, he was ending the important negotiations. For some reason, peace with my faction doesn’t enter into Gerd Avir-Syn La-Pirez’s plans.”

  After hearing out Minn-O’s translation (in view of the death of his own Geckho translator, the Strategist had to fall back on my wife’s services) General Ui-Taka continued my speech:

  “And fourth, it was the fastest way to get to the capital hexagon, where Gerd Avir-Syn La-Pirez’s respawn point is. Most players, especially high-profile ones, leave their respawn points deep in the karst caves beneath the citadel for safety purposes. Down there, your faction cannot hit them with any kind of weapon, even nuclear.”

  I didn’t inform him that my faction didn’t have any nuclear weapons or at the very least I didn’t know if we did. In fact, it was a military secret. Instead I noted that the captive Paladin girl Gerd Tamara was being held somewhere in those very catacombs, according to Gerd Mac-Peu Un-Roi. And so the old mage’s urgent travel there may not have been a coincidence.

  “Yes, you’re completely right, Leng Gnat...” the huge muscular man stood up, looking through the window at the Dark Faction technicians fussing about with the spaceport workers to put out the flaming antigravs. “An idiotic situation... I always knew the mages of the La-Fin Faction might turn against me one day, so I always tried to stay on guard. But it never occurred to me that they might kill one another. Okay then, given the negotiations are over anyway, go rescue your vaunted commander before she is sold to another magical faction. Look, there’s a small La-Fin Faction antigrav landing in the spaceport now. Gnat, go talk with the pilot. Convince him to take you to the first citadel.”

  What??? It was such a foolhardy suggestion I was taken aback. Go alone into the very den of my most dangerous and clever enemy, right into their underground prison even! Was Ui-Taka sane suggesting something like that? I would be killed as soon as I showed up! And that was in the best case. In the worst, they’d lock me up in that prison until the end of time!

  “What, too scared?” Either my opponent really didn’t understand or he was mocking me. “Leng Gnat, you said yourself today that you were the official ruler of the First Directory and, as such, leader of the La-Fin Faction. Are you really not confident enough in your powers that you are afraid of your own subjects? Take your wayedda with you then. Princess Minn-O can make it through any checkpoint in a ruler’s dress like that. Apologies but I won’t be flying with you. There’s very little room in the antigrav, and I’m not going to sit on your lap. What’s more, I’m very interested to see if you can manage. If you remember, I once went alone and unarmed to your capital fortress. Your warriors bowed before me even though I am their avowed enemy! You, Leng Gnat, are no enemy to these people but their rightful leader. Prove that elder mage Avir-Syn is wrong and you deserve to rule!”

  * * *

  I had already seen this high-speed antigrav before. It was how the majestic and terrible Thumor-Anhu La-Fin, leader of the Dark Faction, had flown in to free his granddaughter from captivity. A Pilot and Technician. That was the whole crew of this small flying machine. Neither player had any questions and they both treated me
with clearly demonstrated respect. Although maybe it was less for me than for my companion. After all, Minn-O La-Fin was their Princess and ruler no matter how you spun it. The Technician was a small squat girl with a cleanshaven head. She brought down the folding ladder and helped me and my companion come on board.

  Inside was very cramped, I had to keep my legs folded up and my head hunched in nearly to the point it was between my legs. It was clear why the huge General Ui-Taka preferred other methods of transportation: he simply couldn’t fit into this thing. I had to put my Listener Energy Armor into my inventory and sit Minn-O on my lap, then we both had to make like Indian yogis to fit into the very limited space. Whoever invented this thing did not have ergonomics or comfort in mind.

  In many ways it looked respectable from the outside, even luxurious. Still the Dark Faction antigrav was quite similar to that old Starship Dmitry Zheltov used to drive around back in the day. It had a similar body made of welded lightweight pipes, the antigrav pancakes were just a bit larger and more powerful. There were just three seats not four, but outside the vehicle had millimeter-thick tin plating for better aerodynamics.

  The main difference from the Starship was that this vehicle could actually fly rather than hovering just above the surface. We quickly gained height and raced off over the desert toward some snowy mountains on the horizon. The very highest peaks were already colored a slight crimson of the dawning sun. Through a transparent cap you could see dark sands, the odd dry bush and even a herd of either saiga or gazelle with their ears back in alarm and accompanying us with their gazes.

  Cartography skill increased to level sixty-two!

  Eagle Eye skill increased to level seventy-four!

  That was all great of course, and that method of faster skill leveling was interesting, but I took a look at the map and asked the Pilot:

  “Why are we taking a hook around the bay? Why not fly straight over?”

  San-Doon Taki-Bu Human. La-Fin Faction. Level-89 Pilot.

  The short pilot was wearing a soft helmet like a tank driver and a thick button-up jacket. He turned toward me:

  “The previous Leng, Coruler Thumor-Anhu (unclear) to risk it. The vehicle is (unclear) fussy, sometimes one of the antigrav disks loses power or just (censored) malfunctions, requiring an emergency landing. So we (unclear) try not to fly over the sea.”

  Astrolinguistics skill increased to level eighty-seven!

  Strange. In the space port, I could understand the Dark Faction negotiators nearly perfectly in their native language, but here I missed many words in just a few short sentences. Was this a different dialect? Or had I learned a strange accent? Nevertheless I assured my wife, who was shuddering and trying to get out of an uncomfortable pose, that there was no need for translation and answered the Pilot myself:

  “Every second counts right now! So we’re flying the shortest route. And try to squeeze as much speed as you can out of this clunker because right now we’re crawling along like a particularly lethargic turtle!”

  Authority increased to 58!

  Woah! Now this was a totally different matter! I was pressed into the back of the seat. The pilot, inspired and clearly bored with these speeds and g-forces, squeezed the antigrav for all it was worth, just periodically giving the Technician commands to change the pancake settings and regulate the power loads.

  I must have gone crazy to ask for this. Not only in the sense of the risky flight over the bay at high speeds, but this whole risky venture visiting the enemy capital. What happened at the negotiations could easily have been a temptation by the enemy leaders, demonstrating a false split in their leadership, but actually working together with the goal of catching another of the enemy’s high-profile players. For example, the Mage Diviner might have read the lines of fate and seen that saying Gerd Tamara was in their prison could draw me into a trap, then mentally explained what to say and do to his two companions. After all, could the faction leader really not have known what was happening in his own holdings?

  The more I thought it all over, the more worried I felt. At a certain moment it all turned into a horror movie in my head and it got so bad I almost ordered the antigrav to turn around and go back to the spaceport. To distract myself from the taxing worries, I asked San-Doon a question:

  “Say, what makes the Pilot class different from Starship Pilot?”

  “Well for one thing the skills are totally different, Leng Gnat La-Fin,” San-Doon answered me, not turning around and keeping a close eye on the instruments. “A Pilot has abilities for flying in conditions of (unclear, most likely ‘insufficient’ or ‘limited’) visibility and in bad weather. They have advanced piloting skills and skills for aerial and atmospheric combat, plus a Pilot can use some kinds of on-board guns. A Starship Pilot is totally different. The game offered me that class but faction leadership (unclear, probably either ‘insisted’ or recommended’) that I choose simply Pilot.”

  Minn-O, forced to double over due to how tall she was and especially cognizant of the discomfort of the tiny antigrav, knew what I was after:

  “My husband isn’t asking just because. He needs a second pilot on the star frigate, he’s looking at candidates.”

  “I would consider it my honor to serve you, my lord! But first you need to finish this whole (censored) war and intrafactional schism so they don’t look at me funny. By the way, we’re almost there. Behind that cliff you can see the central citadel and the main entrance to the underground dungeons.”

  In fact, beyond the sharp mountain peaks there was a squat structure stuck right into a steep slope. It had thick walls, a concrete dome, locators turning every which way and security towers with laser batteries.

  “Permission to land granted!” The silent technician girl raised her voice for the first time since the start of the flight. “Garrison leader Gerd T’yu-Pan greets us and would like to personally come out to meet the new Leng.”

  “How do they know who’s on board?” I asked, surprised and even more alarmed.

  “Back at the spaceport both we and probably other groups sent messages about our unusual passenger.”

  The cleanshaven girl turned toward me and, gathering bravery, added:

  “Leng Gnat La-Fin, everyone in the faction is sick to death of the endless drills, killings for the tiniest infractions and daily brainwashing. They’re all desperately hoping the new lord from the other world will finally put a stop to this idiotic war!”

  Chapter Fifteen. Underground Prison

  HOW ABOUT that! Most of the Dark Faction didn’t want to fight us? That was astonishing news because it went against the whole image in my brain. From my very first day in the game, my leaders had explained the Dark Faction as an aggressive and implacable enemy that wished us death. And a ghastly harsh one. I had heard stories about players from my faction they took captive. The Dark Faction torturers would stop at nothing to get information or recruit them. They used the most cruel and perverse torture methods, breaking prisoners both physically and mentally using drugs and a large share of psionic magic. And I was thinking about those horror stories during tonight’s flight over the bay.

  And now, in personal conversation with a Dark Faction player, I come to find out that they never wanted to fight, and their mage rulers were just forcing them? Very interesting! I just didn’t know if the technician girl was voicing a common opinion or her personal views. And it was too bad but we couldn’t keep talking because our antigrav was already coming in for a landing.

  We were met by a group of soldiers in heavy armor. Not robot-assisted exoskeleton suits like Gerd Tamara and Eduard Boyko had, they were just encased head to toe in thick suits of metal. I was even afraid to imagine the Strength parameter needed to constantly wear these sturdy but insanely heavy pieces. My Gnat probably wouldn’t be able to move in a tea kettle like that. Plus, the players also needed to carry weapons. Everyone I came across had a heavy plasma rifle of Geckho production. I had ordered ones just like it for my faction, so I knew perfec
tly that one of these rifles, which could go straight through a foot and a half of reinforced concrete, weighted forty pounds. Basically, the people who came out to meet me were titans, not humans!

  I checked their names and levels, then correctly identified the group leader:

  Gerd T’yu-Pan Yn-U. Human. La-Fin Faction. Level-104 Shocktroop.

  Level one hundred and four! This guy was freaking awesome. T’yu-Pan clearly wasn’t just wearing through his pants seat here in the citadel, he must have been very active in combat missions if he managed to level up that much. An intrusive thought told me this Shocktroop gained all that experience by killing my allies, but I chased it off. Yes, he was an enemy of my allies, a very strong enemy. But now that didn’t matter.

  Gerd T’yu-Pan tried to bow awkwardly, which was not easy to do in the stiff armor suit, then he extended a hand, helping the Princess and I down the gangway.

  “My lord, what are your orders?”

  He addressed me with all due respect, clearly accepting the new political order. Only after this did I calm down. Given Dark Faction players like him accepted Gnat as their new leader, that meant my claims to power were not unfounded and I would find support among the players. And really, why not? One mage-ruler of the La-Fin Dynasty was gone, and another mage from the same family had come to take his place. As far as a commoner from the magocratic world was concerned, that was the way things worked.

  I asked the garrison leader if he knew about the captive paladin girl from the Human-3 Faction. A shadow of doubt ran across his face, the polite smile instantly crawled off his lips.

  Successful Authority check!

  The Shocktroop considered, but after a brief pause I did get an answer:

  “Leng Gnat, there was a clear order from the mages around the former Leng not to tell anybody about this prisoner under penalty of death for the whole family in the real world. I can only say that a La-Varrez Faction tiltrotor is on its way here for her and will arrive any minute. There’s an order to transfer the prisoner to them.”