“In my opinion, this hostility is being stoked and managed craftily by someone outside our faction,” said the taciturn agent. “It just stacks too conveniently with the Dark Faction’s huge bounty on his head. Seemingly, our enemies see Gnat as a threat. But they cannot touch him, so they’re trying to use someone else. What do the darksiders that we can’t? What makes them see Gnat as a threat?”
“Maybe it’s just personal?” Lozovsky suggested. “At any rate, Gnat lowered the Authority of their leader Thumor-Anhu La-Fin, put his granddaughter Minn-O La-Fin in a bad light and has basically just been a thorn in their ass ever since he started playing.”
“That doesn’t add up...” Antipov shook his head with doubt. “I have carefully familiarized myself with the Dark Faction Leng’s psychological portrait. Thumor-Anhu La-Fin might allow emotions to slip out sometimes, and in those moments his rage his fearsome. But overall, he’s restrained and a very clever player, who has demonstrated an ability to work through scenarios many moves in advance. According to our prisoners, many in the Leng’s world wish him harm. And actually... what’s stopping us from copying them and announcing a bounty for his head? How about ten thousand crystals just like theirs?”
A silence took hold. The faction leaders spent some time exchanging glances. Finally, Ivan Lozovsky answered:
“It isn’t a bad response. It will show our enemies they cannot make such threats against our faction. But we cannot take out the Leng himself. He’s a very strong Mage Psionic and would surely uncover the murderer by reading their thoughts before they even got close. But the old Mage has a weak point: we know he truly loves his granddaughter. He has shown it on a number of occasions. If we announce a reward for Minn-O La-Fin’s head, that will have a much stronger effect on the Dark Faction leaders.”
“Sure, we can announce it...” Radugin said in thought. “But how are we gonna pay?! Our faction coffers have only eighteen thousand crystals, and fifteen hundred of them are already going to rent a ferry to deliver supplies for rebuilding the oil refinery!”
I’ll admit, I was somewhat shaken by the breathtaking ease my leaders displayed when discussing paying for a murder. Sure, Minn-O La-Fin and her grandfather were enemies of our faction in the game, but I didn’t think it was right to kill them in the real world. However, our enemies had let that genie out of the bottle when they placed a bounty on my head, so it was technically equal retaliation. I kept silent and didn’t argue. Anyway, now that our faction’s lack of crystals was on the table, I couldn’t keep myself from touching the hot-button issue:
“Maybe I’m missing something, but I’m very surprised to hear we’re low on crystals! If the game that bends reality is so important to the government, what is stopping us from using the next batch of newbies to bring in something to sell? Like platinum, for example. Fifteen strong lads from the next group of beginners can bring in forty-five pounds each, and that’ll get us six hundred seventy-five pounds. In space, pure platinum goes for sixty-eight thousand crystals per pound. Sure we probably won’t be able to sell it at that price, and there will be some fees for delivery and certifying the bars with the Geckho marking system, but merchants will buy it for three and a half to five thousand crystals per pound easy! And that’s around three million monetary crystals, which would immediately solve all our financial problems! That’s a thousand good blasters for our army and two million crystals to spare! And if we use not just fifteen newbies but thirty, the Human-3 faction could buy its own starship! And once we have a starship, we won’t have to depend on Geckho middlemen with their ridiculous markups!”
My emotional outburst was met with dead silence. Then Ivan Lozovsky turned to Radugin and said with a smirk:
“So, now we know why Gnat is such a threat to the Dark Faction! What did Geckho Diplomat Kosta Dykhsh tell us about the value of platinoids in the Galaxy? Three hundred twenty crystals for a pound of palladium, three hundred eighty for osmium and two hundred thirty for platinum? And the Dark Faction gets in the way of us selling even at those draconian prices by cutting us off from the space port and thus our source of Geckho currency. Without money, we can’t import high-tech equipment, and without that, we can’t beat the Dark Faction. Everyone understands that perfectly. And then, Gnat comes on the scene. He speaks Geckho, knows a few of them and has even earned their respect. Hypothetically, he could help us smooth over the trade problem, and even bypass all these greedy middlemen in the space port! That’s what the Dark Faction is so afraid of!”
“Gnat, in th-that case there’s a new m-mission for you!” The faction leader was excited and even started hiccupping slightly. “Ask the captain if he could maybe serve as a middleman to sell our platinum and other precious metals. Get all the prices and financial conditions, too. If it’s all a-go, I’ll try and get Gokhran[2] to give up some precious metals for the Dome project. As for the faction having a negative reaction... we’ll work on that. First of all, we need all the players to know how much you’ve done for our whole faction. The most obvious option here is a big interview, because now we have a Journalist! As soon as Lydia leaves the game, I’ll send her to find you, so you can agree on a format and schedule a time.”
The federal agent took advantage of the faction leader’s pause and grabbed the thread of the conversation:
“Now that you’re an especially valuable player for our faction, we must assign you increased security. We can provide you with physical protection under the Dome for starters. As a high-profile player, you deserve a separate more comfortable room as well. For security, we’ll have you draw up a friends list, and only people on it will be allowed to come visit you without prior approval. We will assign you guards who have no connection with the game or the Dark Faction. And you must be accompanied by them at all times! As for in the game, this issue will be resolved before you return from space.”
And at that, the substantive part of the meeting came to an end. I was just asked approximately when I’d be back from space, how Dmitry Zheltov was doing as a pilot, and how he was getting along with the Geckho crew. Then they issued me a debit card for making purchases under the Dome and said I was free to go.
In the doorway, I asked Imran and Dmitry to wait and turned back around:
“I know there is audio and video surveillance everywhere under the Dome. For security reasons, of course. But I need an actually private room, where I can feel comfortable and relaxed without constantly looking for hidden cameras and microphones. “
Lozovsky and Radugin for some reason looked simultaneously at Antipov and, after a second of thought, the agent nodded:
“Alright, Gnat. Give us five minutes to remove our equipment and the room will be clean. We won’t have any kind of surveillance. You have my word as an officer!”
Chapter Eight. Big Interview
I HAD TO ADMIT, talking with the higher-ups left me with more questions than answers. All the measures they discussed looked more like moves of desperation than well-thought-out actions. Putting a bounty on Thumor-Anhu La-Fin and his daughter, spontaneously deciding to sell platinum for millions of crystals through an unvetted Geckho captain, refusing to study the Dark Faction vehicle in favor of more advanced alien designs and betting on buying weaponry rather than producing it ourselves — it just didn’t come together as a coherent plan.
I was forming the impression that the leadership was just bewildered and didn’t know how to get our faction back on track. Still though, they understood that changes were vitally necessary. The recent battle with the Dark Faction showed just how shaky our positions were and underlined our lack of resources and manpower. Sure, the faction got lucky, and we managed to keep the Eastern Swamp node but, without oil production, its swampy infertile land had no real use. As far as I understood, it was not going to be easy to get our oil extraction and refining facilities back online. After all, the faction had already spent a good chunk of our limited funds on replacement parts. And they were talking about having that transported via Geckho fer
ry, so there probably wasn’t enough gas for the Peresvets to do it. Maybe our vehicles were even seriously damaged and needed repair.
Overall, I was in a state of deep contemplation, even though my particular mission didn’t seem all that challenging. Captain Uraz Tukhsh would clearly be interested in reselling the platinum, I had no doubt about that. And starships came through the forcefield tunnel in the pirate station all the time, so getting data on a couple of them on my Prospector Scanner would be easy-peasy. I would just have to warn the Shiamiru crew to turn off our electronics first.
I was in such a deep state of thought I didn’t even notice it had grown dark under the Dome. Only the night lighting was still on. A street sweeper drove down an empty park path in the distance. First, my friends led me to the hospital building, where Anya took the brackets off my nose with a pair of tweezers and disinfected the remaining lacerations. The whole operation took two minutes at most, leaving nothing to remind me that, just three days ago, someone broke my nose.
After that, my friends and new bodyguards led me to a separate residential building concealed behind the tennis court and a thicket of trees. There were two buff guardsmen at the entrance, but our group was let inside without question. The pretty night receptionist smiled at me, displaying a row of flawless pearlescent teeth, and pointed at the elevator:
“Ah, Gerd Gnat, go up to the second floor and take the hallway to the right. Your room is the only one there. You won’t get lost.”
I thanked her for the information, then my friends took me under the arms and led me into the elevator. On the second floor, there was one short hallway to the left and another to the right, both with identical doors. I had no idea who I shared this floor with. Possibly, the other room was just empty.
My brand-new Dome debit card also opened the front door of my apartment. The light automatically turned on as soon as we entered, and I couldn’t hold back a whistle of surprise. This was a far cry from the spartan chamber I was originally stuck in with three other expelled students. Ornate furniture, expensive rugs, crystal chandeliers and stucco ceilings... everything around simply screamed luxury. What was more, there was an electric wheelchair and crutches at the door. That level of attention to detail deserved its own thanks!
“Breakfast lunch and dinner can be ordered directly to your room,” said the receptionist, who had come up the stairs instead of going up the elevator with the rest. And now, she was showing me around.
What a cool bathroom. The main room had a touch-screen on the wall where I could order whatever I wanted. The bar was stocked with all kinds of alcohol. The in-wall fridge next to it was pretty well filled, too. The bedroom had a bed big enough for ten. There were lots of electronics from a media center and gaming setup to a huge television that took up nearly a whole wall. Overall, I liked my new digs a lot.
The night receptionist drew my attention again and said:
“My name is Yana, by the way. The lady who works day shift is also named Yana, so it’s easy to remember. Gerd Gnat, we need your friends list by tomorrow morning to give to the guards. This is a secure building and we won’t let in anyone if they’re not on it. You can open and close the window blinds with this remote. You’ll find new sheets in that cabinet, and you can throw your dirty clothes in that basket. If you need anything else, call any time from the touch-screen.”
As soon as the door closed behind Yana, my friends also said goodbye. But why? I was hoping we could sit all together and talk about the game and stuff, maybe even take a peek at the bar and celebrate my housewarming...
Imran just threw up his arms at all my attempts to dissuade him:
“Sorry, Gnat. I don’t drink. And I’d love to sit and hang out, but it’s already two AM, and Anya and I have second shift in the Yellow Mountains, which is in four hours. Maybe we can celebrate tomorrow? Masha and the other guys could come too then.”
I thought Anya was hesitating and even thinking of staying but, in the end, she followed Imran with the excuse that it was late, and she had to work early.
“Gnat, I’m gonna sleep too,” Dmitry Zheltov apologized. “I haven’t slept for a day and a half because I spent all my downtime talking with the leadership. Tomorrow evening, I’ll come to your party if you’re ok with that.”
The door shut behind my friends and, much to my surprise, I was left alone. It was a strange feeling. Life had been bubbling up around me for the last few days. Things were happening everywhere I looked. But now, I had some time all to myself, I just didn’t know what to do with it.
I tested out the electric wheelchair. I studied the rooms and sampled the hastily made canapes. I turned on some background music just to keep me company. I started to draw a bath but looked at my leg cast and decided against it, limiting myself to a quick wash-up and change of underwear. I didn’t even have a moderate desire to sleep, despite the late hour. But what to do?
And then, as if answering my unasked question, a knock came at the door. Who had the deep night brought me? Well, no matter who it was, it would be a welcome distraction. I rolled up perkily to the front door, nearly overturning my wheelchair in a sharp pivot, and undid the lock. There was an unfamiliar lady standing in the doorway. She had a pleasant face, mascaraed eyes, slightly wavy chestnut hair that came to midway down her back, and a lithe figure. The woman was very tall, more than six foot two, and her legs were damn long. Based on her clothing, she’d just come from the tennis court. She was wearing a visor on her head, an athletic bag over her shoulder, a sleeveless vest with number 1555, short shorts, knee high socks and tennis shoes.
“Seeing those glowing blue eyes, I’m guessing I found the right door. You must be Gnat. I mean Kirill,” the stranger said instead of greeting me and, without asking permission, she walked around my wheelchair and into the room. “Well, well! I guess high-profile players live pretty well in our faction. Pretty damn well! When I become a Gerd, I’ll have to insist on a room no worse than this. By the way, in case you didn’t know, I’m Lydia Vertyachikh, the official faction Journalist.”
I had already guessed as much, but her introduction finally removed my last shreds of doubt. Lydia tossed off her shoes, fell back exhausted in an armchair and stretched her legs.
“I just got back from our recently-started fort in Karelia. Ten miles on foot each way, because there’s no vehicle transport to Karelia right now. And though I got some awesome material, you can’t even imagine how sick and tired I am! Today was endless! And as soon as I got out of the virt pod, I was called by leadership with an urgent mission to interview Gerd Gnat! Sure, if I was still in the game and leveling my Journalist skill or leveling my character, but in the real world... I’ll admit, I wanted to tell them to go to hell and just get some shut-eye. And if it was anyone other than you, I would’ve done just that. But you’re impossible to pin down. You can’t be found in the game, and it’s hard to catch you under the Dome as well...”
Lydia finished her exasperated speech, crossed her legs and scanned the room. The journalist’s eyes stopped on the mini-bar and refrigerator.
“A vermouth with ice and orange juice, plus a snack like a fruit or pastry and I’ll come to...” the lady said, sharply going silent and looking skeptically at my wheelchair and leg cast. “Alright, I’ll get it myself. And I can pour you something too, Gnat. What do you say? But before we start, I’d like to take a shower. I was urgently forced into the game today from the tennis court, and I can smell the sweat on me.”
So, I guess I wasn’t wrong about her sport of choice. I pointed Lydia to the bathroom door and promised to pour the wine and cut the fruit while she cleaned up. She kept me waiting a long time, forty minutes. If not for the sound of falling water and the occasional bout of singing from the bathroom, I’d have thought Lydia fell asleep in there. Finally, the door opened, and my new acquaintance came out wearing a pair of warm slippers, a bathrobe and a towel around her head like a turban.
“Wow, I feel amazing! It’s like I was born again! On th
e way to your door, I could barely crawl. Every muscle was aching.”
“I know the feeling,” I chuckled. “After my first day in the game, I was practically walking on all fours.”
“Oh! You already set the table! Then I suggest we hold the interview over a late dinner. And first let me give a toast — to new friends!”
We had a drink, then Lydia took a notepad, pen and voice recorder out of her bag. She opened the pad, wrote the date then started thinking and... set the pen aside.
“Gnat, I have to admit, I really don’t have any incentive to ask questions here in the real world. I don’t get anything out of it and, if it weren’t for a direct order from above, I’d have set all these questions aside until we met in the game. But you, on the other hand, need this to publicize your achievements and improve your reputation... So, I propose we play a little game. We’ll flip a coin. If it’s heads, I ask a question and you answer. If it’s tails... tails... what can I think up to keep you hooked? Hm, let’s say I remove one article of clothing!”
What?! My brows shot up in surprise. I’d been interviewed a few times before, but never under such unusual and intriguing circumstances. Then, before I managed to agree or refuse, Lydia clarified:
“We’ll flip the coin ten times, no more. I’m wearing five pieces of clothing now including this towel on my head, so I could easily run out of clothes before we’re out of tosses. Well, we’re both adults, so I think we’ll have an easy time figuring out what to do if it comes to that. Everything seems fair to me. I might get an interesting ten-question interview out of this, but we might also find a way to pass the time more pleasantly.”
External Threat (Reality Benders Book #2) LitRPG Series Page 8