That didn't sound good. I just hoped I didn't fall victim to another one of those.
Never mind. I decided to move slightly further on to get a better look of the junction and then call it a day.
After about a hundred and fifty feet I discovered a very convenient and secure platform formed by several beams. Here, radiation levels were considerably higher.
My sight-enhanced vision slid along the fire-polished walls noticing large faded letters,
No entry past this line... automatic respawn transfer... Respawn purgatory...
Okay. I got it.
Whoever it was, they'd marked down the spot beyond which your respawn point would be automatically changed.
Talking about which, where was that spot exactly? I seemed to have already made it dangerously close to the location's center.
Now I could see the junction clearly. Here the bulkheads were all but gone, reduced to short protruding stumps.
About a hundred feet further on lay a vast square with a jagged hole in the middle. This was where all the tunnels must have once met. Now however, there was little left. Even their massive U-shaped ribs were misshapen and molten, some of them turned into frozen pools of oxidized metal.
On the other side of the square I could see the gaping mouth of a tunnel — which must have led to the outside docking area.
I could make out some familiar shapes scattered amid the debris. I had to concentrate to think what they might be. Then I realized: these were crudely made modern-day spaceships, exactly like those I'd seen on our approach to the station.
Apparently, any attempt to loot some cargonite would end badly.
Who on earth had shot them down? I looked around me restlessly, then checked my rear. Had I missed something?
I peered at the ceiling and noticed a large gaping hole above me.
Around me lay a radiation-drenched wasteland. Had it not been for the power shield, I'd have died a wriggling, agonizing death long ago.
I had to turn back. I had absolutely nothing to gain here.
Too late.
A blinding light rose out of the depths of the jagged void below. I shrank into the beams. My visor darkened rapidly. A powerful flare roared out of the gap. The outer bubble of my power shield burst into flames. The ruins around the epicenter glowed red as it heated up. Not all of the energy surge had hit the ceiling: the gap overhead had deflected some of it, sending fiery tornadoes coursing around. I heard the sound of debris collapsing. And on top of all the visual effects, the location was instantly filled with invisible radiation.
You've received a lethal dose of radiation!
Dammit!
My micro nuclear batteries were nearly dead but the automatics kept replacing them with new ones.
The pain was like nothing I could describe. I very nearly fainted. It felt as if my every nerve had turned into a live wire.
I tried to jump to my feet — no way. My body just wouldn't obey me.
I forced my head up. My vision blurred, then came back into focus as I received a new dose of metabolites.
Which was exactly what I didn't need. Hadn't she told me, don't try to survive? It'd only make things worse!
But it wasn't as if I could do anything about it. The wretched automatics had a mind of their own.
The pain didn't go but it had dulled somewhat. No, I wasn't going to push it any further. I reached for the handgun, my fingers shaking. These authenticity levels could drive anybody mad. I just didn't want to-
I froze, forgetting my suicide attempt.
About fifty feet away from me, amid scorched debris where the molten beams had merged with the deck, rose a column of emerald light. Another one. And yet another.
A respawn?
A Dargian appeared first. With a desperate yelp he darted off but had barely made a dozen paces. I wouldn't even speculate about radiation levels there.
A human followed. A male. He was a terrible sight, his gear all scorched. He too darted for cover and disappeared down a hole.
The third column of emerald light produced a goblin, of all things.
I froze, speechless. Mechanically I zoomed him in on him, noticing the familiar mark on his wrist.
Arbido? It couldn't be!
The goblin screamed in desperation. His green hide was rapidly covering in crimson blisters. His eyes popped out, his swollen tongue suffocating him. His flimsy little legs gave under him. He collapsed and began thrashing about. Then he disappeared.
A respawn.
Once again the Dargian darted off. This time he made twenty paces or so.
A respawn.
The goblin reappeared in an emerald flash. I could clearly see his eyes filled with agony, devoid of hope. Immediately he collapsed, choking on his croaks, pointlessly trying to crawl away as his body erupted in bleeding ulcers, his flesh falling apart, baring the bones.
A respawn.
The man in the molten gear must have had extraordinary willpower. He didn't scream. He ran, his teeth clenched, knowing he was doomed and still trying to get as far from the epicenter as he could to avoid another torturous resurrection.
I glimpsed a faint name tag,
Jurgen. Level 43. Human. A Technologist
He must have had one hell of a metabolic implant, but without cartridges it was burning his own body's resources. His face was gaunt with sharp cheekbones and sunken eyes.
This time too he'd managed to hole up somewhere but I doubted it would help him much. I had no idea how often these surges of energy happened but it was pretty clear that anyone who happened to be around was doomed. What did that sign next to the entrance say — Respawn purgatory?
I broke out in a sticky cold sweat.
A flash.
Arbido. Sentient Xenomorph. Level 1.
All doubts were gone at this point. But how had he got here?
His blood-curdling scream froze in the hall's echoing silence. His eyes were bleeding. He had no chance.
All that stood between us was an invisible barrier and the faded sign at the entrance marking the trigger point of an automatic respawn transfer.
All that stood between us was his cynical arrogance, his greed and his hatred.
He'd set me up. He'd fleeced me to the bone, then sent me to a torturous death at the alternative start location.
They say revenge is sweet. And still my every nerve was burning with a renewed agony. I could see his death throes. They made me feel foul. I began to shake. Compassion was a strange feeling unfamiliar to me — but now it ripped through my brain like a razor.
A respawn. Him croaking again.
My hits were already down to 50%.
Before, I had only known two emotions — two extremes that framed my life flow.
Excitement. Boredom.
But the Phantom Server seemed to ravage your mind. It defied all convention. Goddamn authenticity.
My numb fingers wouldn't obey me, the emergency batteries refusing to click into their slots.
The life support system interface was ablaze with data. I shot myself up with every metabolite and anti-radiation drug I had. My mind swam. My life bar jumped to 100%. Side effect warnings flashed before my eyes but I couldn't care less.
I stood up and ran down the listing molten beams.
I crossed the line.
Your respawn point has changed.
Ignoring the message, I jumped down on the other side of the collapsed bulkheads, maxed out the power shield radius and darted toward the emerald shimmer.
I reached the respawn point in a couple of leaps.
Flash.
Then another.
It just so happened that my shield had caught both of them. The Dargian was nowhere to be seen. Arbido and Jurgen stared at me uncomprehendingly, unsure why their pain was now gone.
"I've got a power shield! Get moving!" I tried to explain realizing I must have sounded rambling and confused. The goblin was shaking, awaiting the next dose of torture to come. Jurgen's eyes lit up wi
th hope and understanding. He must have grasped at least the technical part of their rescue. Neither seemed to wonder about my motives — the moment wasn't right. My maxed-out shield was holding the radiation well but it wasn't going to last forever. The batteries had five to seven minutes at most.
"Which of us have you come to save?" Jurgen's eyes were filled with inhuman pain.
"Him!" I pointed at Arbido.
It all happened instinctively. I had no rescue plan whatsoever, but the technologist didn't waste time thinking.
"Take him, then!" his commanding hand motioned at the goblin.
We had to move fast while staying within the power shield. If we made it to the elevators alive we had a decent chance of descending — and once we were back on the Market Deck, we could pay to have their respawn points moved.
The problem was, I had no money.
Jurgen seized the initiative from me. He'd long studied the area and knew exactly what needed to be done. He pointed at the nearest gaping hole. "Service tunnels!"
I gave him the handgun and lifted the goblin. His tiny shuddering body was weightless, his huge eyes welled with tears. Instinctively he clung to me, still incredulous at his survival.
* * *
Feverish, I don't remember much of our return route.
The service tunnels ran the entire floor. They were hell incarnate. Their walls glowed with radiation. Each dark branch of them harbored creatures who'd long lost their identity in the mind-blowing sequence of respawns. Some were aggressive, others cowardly. Jurgen and I ran for dear life, him shooting, me trying to keep up without tripping.
Everything here was soaked in pain, hunger and fear: the triumph of primeval instincts. Not a single creature we'd met showed signs of intelligent behavior.
I quickly lost all sense of direction. I stopped counting paces, not even trying to understand where Jurgen was taking us. The stimulants had worn off, bringing back the pain which started to feed on my mind.
Jurgen could see the state I was in. He said nothing. He had very little ammo left. Now the power shield was the only thing that kept the monsters away. Seeing the shimmer surrounding us, they shrank back and let us through.
The tunnel took several sharp turns, always heading down.
I started to lag behind. Jurgen slowed up. His spirit was amazing, his strife for survival empowering me somewhat.
We seemed to have been running for eternity. The power shield began to fade. Were the batteries down already?
They weren't. The danger level indicators were turning green. But where was the elevator? I wasn't sure I'd survive another climb down.
Suddenly we found ourselves in a dead end. I stared at a bulkhead with its massive locked hatch.
I just couldn't believe it!
"What other weapons do you have?"
I couldn't think straight. Jurgen's voice barely reached me. I struggled to open the inventory and pulled out the sniper's rifle, dumping it onto the floor littered with debris.
He picked it up. "Stand back!"
He began shooting at the bulkhead, the firework of direct hits evaporating the metal a good two feet from the hatch. What was the point? Soon, however, something sparked within the resulting hole. A shortcut. The hatch jerked aside.
Jurgen climbed out first. I followed.
I'd never been here before. It was a small hall lined with fake building facades topped with holographic signs,
Technologists' Sector
Pilots' Sector
Mercenaries' Sector
I could see two more tunnels. They were also marked,
To Corporation Deck
To Market Deck
While I was looking around, Jurgen grabbed the hand of a tall pilot clad in force-field armor. They seemed to be arguing.
My life was dwindling. Seven percent left. Unable to stand, I slumped to the floor. That was it. That was the end of me. Welcome to respawn purgatory, you freakin' Samaritan.
High-level players kept walking past, slowing down to look at us.
I could sense hatred in their stares — although it wasn't addressed at me but at the goblin doubled up next to me.
He was a Level 1 Xenomorph, wasn't he? One kick in the butt would finish him off.
I forced myself out of my slumber and reached into my inventory, clicking the slave collar shut on my ex-employer's neck.
Jurgen came back, trying to explain something to me. Unable to procure a response, he tore the fire-polished glove off my hand and rubbed some silvery substance into my wrist, then did the same to Arbido.
I was virtually blind by then. My mind was shutting down.
Three percent life... two... one...
Darkness.
* * *
Respawn
The emerald light enveloped me.
Death still held me, its doomed desperation freezing my avatar solid. But as I opened my eyes, I saw Founders' Square.
The goblin in a slave collar doubled up by my feet. Jurgen was nowhere to be seen.
Chapter Four
Phantom Server. Login
I sat up, awoken by an insistent knocking at the door.
Our hotel module was dark. The Haash was still in a coma. The stench in the room was awful. I was parched. I stood up, nearly stumbling over Arbido who'd curled up on the floor by my bed, shuddering in his sleep.
Stepping over him, I staggered toward the wash basin and splashed some water on my face, then gulped some down. It tasted rusty.
I unblocked the door even though I didn't really want to see anyone.
Jurgen stepped in. He looked around, sniffing the air, but didn't say anything. He walked over to me and poked my shoulder with a fist. "We need to talk."
Why was he whispering? Was he afraid of waking the goblin up? Or was he wary of the Haash?
We sat down at the folding table. All I could offer him was some water.
"How are you?" I had no idea what to talk to him about. What did he want from me? Had he come to say thank you?
"I'm all right," he looked me straight in the eye. "I owe you for my rescue," somehow he didn't sound particularly grateful. "Decided to pop by. Here. It's yours," he lay my handgun onto the table.
The goblin's ears pricked up. He wasn't asleep any more, just faking it.
I took the gun. It was fully loaded, its batteries fully charged. I knew this wasn't what Jurgen had come to see me for, though. So I just waited for him to go on.
"You've got problems, Zander."
I raised a surprised eyebrow. "How come?"
"Because of me," he admitted. "I'm not going to screw around. Gehenna is well-known. Whoever gets stuck in the respawn purgatory is never seen again. Lots of people used to die there at first. Now they all got smart. No one ever farms it anymore. Okay, maybe a few desperate idiots do, but they never stray away toward the center."
"How did you end up there, then?" my question sounded logical.
"Are you serious? You mean you don't know?"
"Not the slightest idea," I said, faking indifference even though I already had a funny feeling this Gehenna trip would cost me. "I've only been here for a couple of days. I've no implants nor xp, nothing. Just a noob."
"Yeah," he squinted unkindly. "A noob with a state-of-the-art Dargian fighter, a mysterious artifact and a menagerie of xenomorphs?"
I racked my brains for a suitable answer. Why was Jurgen so sure the ship was Dargian? Had Charon lied to me? Or was Jurgen's information incorrect? By the mysterious artifact he must have meant my funny little ring, no doubt about that.
"It just happened," I finally said, hoping to side-step the subject. It didn't work.
"The mechanics said you told them you'd just arrived from Earth," Jurgen's words lacked sense. "Then you sold the Dargian gear to the Armorers for peanuts. You know, don't you, that they extracted seventy thousand credits' worth of devices out of it?"
I turned pale. I'd known of course I was selling it off cheap, but not that cheap! "That's my busin
ess," it took all my willpower to conceal my fury. "What was it you said about Gehenna?"
"Whatever. As you say, it's your business. I just wanted to warn you: if you are an Outlaw, you'd better leave the station now. Don't push your luck."
"Beg your pardon!" now I was really furious. "What's that for gratitude? If you had your brains fried, it was none of my making! An Outlaw! How long did it take you to come up with that one? I can't even open my char's talent branches! Your wretched implants block my development!"
He listened, casting glances at my left hand. His eyes were cold and sharp. I didn't think he believed a word I'd said. But he'd apparently scanned the mysterious artifact because he tensed up and said through clenched teeth,
"Very well, Zander. You've got an hour to get to your ship and fuck off. One hour is all I can do to distract the local hounds... in appreciation for your rescuing me. If you don't, that's your problem. We have zero tolerance for xenomorph buddies."
"What made you think I'm an Outlaw?"
Again he glanced at my hand. "Who implanted you with an AI neuronet?"
"What neuronet?" I boiled inside, seething with fury. The wretched ring again! "I repeat, I really don't know what you're talking about! I don't give a shit about your turf wars! Understand? I'm not an Outlaw and I've never been one! I was set up! They made me take the alternative start!"
He frowned, apparently trying to see the problem from a different prospective. He blinked several times, as if accepting the idea that he was being told off by an ordinary newb.
I didn't give a shit what level he was! He could be level 1000 for all I cared!
I sensed the change in his attitude. "Let's set it straight, once and for all," I said. "I can prove my story. But you too will tell me the truth."
"Which truth?"
"How you ended up in respawn purgatory."
"All right, then!" he slammed his fist on the table. The goblin shrank. "If you're not an Outlaw, I'll tell you! If it's true that you didn't go to Gehenna just to save me hoping to win the Technologists' confidence!"
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