Edge of Reality

by Andrei Livadny

  I could read the silent question in his eyes, How on earth can we do that?

  I didn't say anything. He sighed and pointed below, "Then their respawn point will be relocated down here."

  I removed my power belt and laid it on the floor, then turned it back on. "Have you got a signal?"

  "I have but... no, wait! Zander, you're a genius! This is how we can block their signals! Wait a bit," he activated his scanner and performed some calculations, then turned to me. He looked a different man. "Back in Gehenna, you stood right in the respawn point, remember? And both of us resurrected successfully within your power shield — Arbido and myself!"

  "Of course I remember. That's why I'm asking you."

  His sunken cheeks flushed with red blotches. "But if you change the power field's settings, they won't let the signal through."

  "But how about us then?"

  "We need to change our personal marker settings accordingly. In that case we'll still be able to respawn — but not the Dargians!"

  "You mean they won't be able to respawn at all?"

  "Yes, of course they will!" he answered excitedly. "They will simply be redirected further on. No idea where to! You can see that all the other respawn devices are marked as out of order. I'm pretty sure they'll find one but it'll have to be miles and miles away, probably somewhere in the ransacked part of the station."

  "You mean a Gehenna-type respawn purgatory?" I gave him an evil grin.

  "Possible. In any case, it would take them quite some time to rejoin the battle."

  Which was exactly what I wanted to hear. The rest was academic: we had to breach their defenses, seize the prison block and fight our way to the artifact.

  "You can put your belt back on," Jurgen commanded, his thoughts taking the right direction. "I'm going to use our clan's generators. They're easier for me to reset. Do you understand that if it works we might not need to destroy the artifact?"

  You bet I did.

  A mobile respawn point in combination with the Founders' starship would allow us to take on the Universe!

  * * *

  Darkness swirled around us.

  An intense beam of light cut through the toxic haze and formed a dome-shaped shield around us as Jurgen switched on the power field generator. You could actually walk through it. Once we'd changed the settings, it might still be breached and would offer no protection from bullets. What it would do though, is block the Founders' frequencies.

  Liori walked over to me. She too must have noticed the change in the shield's parameters. "What's going on?"

  "Just a nasty surprise for the Dargians."

  I clued her in about the changes suggested by Jurgen. She listened closely.

  "So this is going to be our respawn point, then?" she asked.

  "Hopefully, a backup one. The main one I plan to set up in the prison block. Jurgen is now updating our personal markers. Our transmitters now work in synch with the power shield which will bounce all other incoming respawn requests."

  Liori looked tense and subdued. You could see something was gnawing at her. Our eyes met and I felt lost in the depths of her gaze. We were physically drawn to each other, there was no doubt about it, and still I could sense this icy estrangement in her that she'd adapted in order to hide herself from other people.

  She must have been betrayed. Repeatedly so. I could feel that. Again I had this eerie feeling of ethereal figures crowding behind her back. She knew something about Phantom Server that I hadn't even begun to fathom out. That's what gnawed at her; that's what didn't allow her to breathe freely.

  Liori, who are you?

  She was the first to avert her gaze.

  "Are you scared?" I asked.

  "Sorry, Zander. Not now. Maybe later if we survive..." she trailed off and swung around to head for one of the cargo modules. I could see Arbido peering anxiously out of it.

  I watched her leave. I was scared too. The Phantom Server's authenticity levels were frightening. Many of us wouldn't come back from this battle. Our respawning chances were fifty-fifty.

  I forced my mind away from these depressing thoughts. We were almost done with prep work. Time to set combat objectives.

  Frieda walked over to me. "The children are asleep," she said. "I've set their suits' life support to rest mode. I don't want them to see us respawn. It might not be a pretty sight."

  I nodded my agreement. Good idea.

  "I'd like to join the snipers," she added. "May I?"

  I knew what had prompted this decision. "You can, but on one condition. You mustn't attract attention to yourself until we work out their defense systems."

  "Zander, how about my mnemotech experience? I can distract the Emgles and lure them away from the ship."

  "These Emgles are cybergized," I said. "They obey the Dargians and maintain permanent communication with them. Don't they?"

  "Yeah," she admitted half-heartedly.

  "Which is why you aren't going to do anything until we destroy their defenses."

  "But I could-"

  "Our mission has been choreographed to perfection. This isn't the right time to experiment. The Dargians mustn't suspect anything. This is my last word."

  I wasn't going to argue with her. An order was an order. She stared at me, looking hurt, but I'd already switched over to the mercs' network making it clear that our conversation was over.

  We were faced with a very difficult task. The mercs were too few. They would have to work in small groups. I couldn't be everywhere, either, which meant that I wouldn't be able to monitor a considerable part of the action.

  Oh well. Being professionals, they had to understand that this was an all-or-nothing game.

  Ten of them were the snipers who had to deploy immediately, taking positions on the towering structures around the Founders' starship. They would commence on my command, taking out the Dargians and depleting their numbers.

  Jurgen would lead the twenty-strong assault group. Their objective was to storm the Dargian base, then either block or destroy the respawn equipment in the prison block.

  The three most trustworthy mercs recommended by Liori were going to stay here, guarding the modules and administering first aid to the wounded. They would have the use of a couple of repair robots as well as access to power units and a stock of spare parts for standard gear.

  Once I was done issuing orders, I asked Charon to see me. I was busy meting out my instructions to him when Jurgen walked over to us and handed him a plain tube filled with silvery paste: respawn markers for the remaining Haash. I'm not going to bore you with its principles; let's just say the paste contained some nano-signal transmitters.

  I made sure that Jurgen and Charon successfully found common ground, then contacted our guards for one last warning,

  "The Haash are our allies. When they respawn, you'd better behave yourself. If any of you doesn't think he can overcome his xenophobia, he'd better say so now!"

  They frowned but said nothing. I could see already that our victory might only create more problems for me.

  Once again I looked over all the current objectives and checked everyone's positions, then walked back to my ship. There I removed my helmet and handed it to Jurgen. "We'll have to install your scanner and my collar controller into Charon's helmet."

  "You do realize it's a risk, don't you?" he PM'd me.

  "I'm pretty sure of him."

  Jurgen was paranoid about anyone he didn't know. I couldn't blame him but we'd all have to adapt to the changes. If we survived, that is. "Arbido!"

  Hearing his name, the goblin peeked from behind the cargo container's hatch.

  "How's it going?" I asked him.

  "The children, you mean? They're asleep. They must be tired. Want to have a look?"

  "It's all right. Let them sleep. You sure you'll manage?"

  "I've got a grandson back in real life," he admitted. "I miss him."

  Oh really? Somehow I'd always thought he had no family. Actually, I used to think that
money was the only thing he loved.

  * * *

  The hatch hissed shut.

  I confidently took off. The ship hovered over the deck. We'd had a second pilot's seat for Charon thrown together. Now we sat back to back.

  I activated a practice drone mounted on the ship's hull. Immediately the ship's recognizable outline and unique signature changed. Now both its appearance and power imprint were identical to those of a standard Condor.

  Liori took off next.

  The deck slowly fell away. I accelerated smoothly, steering toward the green radioactive glow of the enormous hole formed by the ancient ship's collapse onto the station.

  Once at some distance from the station, I changed my ship's course and killed the engines, drifting as I entered the data to calculate the upcoming maneuver. Charon wheezed, concentrated. I didn't distract him, both our stares focused on the cockpit's only functioning holographic screen.

  The Founders' starship resembled an enormous electric ray that was clinging to the station's hull, resting.

  The scampering figures of the Dargians and the Haash looked tiny in comparison. They were busy cutting out chunks of cargonite and carrying its gleaming diamond-shaped pieces to and fro, using them to patch up the gaping holes in the ship's hull.

  Next to them, the Emgles looked impressive — and dangerous. Somehow I couldn't see these gas planet dwellers as innocent victims worthy of our sympathy the way Frieda seemed to believe. Their job was to block access to the starship, checking everyone who dared approach it, both Dargians and the Haash.

  The data transfer was completed. The countdown kicked in. The navigation computers reported their readiness.

  It was our turn. Liori's and mine.

  My mind expander went into overdrive, making me one with the ship.

  I initiated cruise thrust, leaving the drift point first. After a pause, Liori repeated my maneuver. We were on course. I manipulated the thrusters, sending my ship into a seemingly uncontrollable spin.

  Liori kept lagging behind.

  Our ships' reactors were barely glowing at five percent of their power. Both the interference created by our security systems and the tails of rarefied gas trailing in our wake served to convince our enemy that they were looking at two Condors, shot down and pilotless, their crews long gone to their respawn points. Two drifting abandoned craft which presented no threat whatsoever.

  The Dargians couldn't possibly ignore a tasty morsel like that. They had to view this as a minor but welcome byproduct of the still raging battle for Argus.

  Their drones couldn't get close enough to us. I could imagine how we must have looked in their scanners: the occasional flickering betrayed the presence of our power fields and our laser turrets seemingly still in working order. No, the slave drivers wouldn't risk their drones: they'd wait until the two "Condors" drifted closer and rammed into the station. In that case, our ships' equipment would attempt to cushion the impact with their power shields, depleting their batteries. Then you could catch these two powerless birds with your bare hands.

  Aha, I could see them rushing about! They must have worked out my course. Liori's ship lagged far behind, tempting the Dargians to focus on mine. Excellent. Their defenses remained silent while the Dargians hurried to clear a small area not far from the Founders' ship. They then lugged some generators there to create a makeshift acceleration absorber and ensure that the ships didn't sustain much damage or bounce back into outer space.

  The station was rapidly growing. My ship's spin was by no means uncontrollable, even if it may have seemed so. Its trajectory was meticulously choreographed, targeting its aft as the impact surface. The Dargians scrambled away, leaving the Haash to operate the generators. Excellent. Just as we'd planned. Liori's ship was about five hundred feet above me.

  I crashed.

  The shield's power plummeted. The hatches of the main airlock and the cargo holds "failed" simultaneously. Charon emerged, forced out by the airflow, while I released the chemicals from the reactor's cooling system, burying the area in thick toxic fog.

  All this had taken but a couple of seconds. My ship bounced off, depressurized. Any outside observer was obliged to conclude that the craft had fallen apart on impact.

  I glimpsed the silhouettes of two Haash just next to the toxic cloud: they hurried to pull Charon with his easily recognizable personal marker away from danger.

  He'd done it. He was with his own now. And the Dargians were none the wiser.

  Time to engage.

  I released the power from the reserve batteries. It surged down the circuits, charging up the shields. The reactor was quickly regaining its capabilities. The engines kicked in. Liori's Condor mirrored my maneuver with perfect timing. We sped up and charged at the nearest defense units.

  The positions of plasma generators and laser batteries were located higher and were aimed at outer space. In this situation they proved utterly useless against our lightning attack. The Dargians' desire to capture our ships had backfired on them.

  We fired a broadside at close range. The two nearest structures erupted in flames while Liori and I were already speeding off, maneuvering dangerously close to the hull amid the molten peaks of its technoscape.

  Two heavy lasers fired after us, followed by two discharges of plasma generators. Their guidance systems locked us in their sights, following our ships, bathing them in their scanners' waves, all the while hoping to shoot them down in full maneuver.

  Liori threw her Condor into a narrow ravine formed by two monolithic blocks of the station's armor. I repeated her maneuver albeit not as gracefully, barely avoiding a collision as I fell into place as her wingman. We shot out of the ravine and banked, changing course, beginning a new attack.

  Now all their defense systems were upon us. The Dargians were angry — but still uncomprehending.

  We kept evading their fire.

  Our shields pulsated, draining the batteries, but I'd already noticed three bright dots rapidly approaching through space. This was a wing of Condors zeroing in on their highlighted targets.

  They fired their first salvo at long range, sweeping away the locator modules. I watched a tall latticed tower tilt to one side and disintegrate.

  Three more hull structures cascaded with molten steel.

  We passed them head on, turned around and charged again.

  The Dargians scattered, desperate to leave the open area. Only a few headed for the Founders' starship, the bulk of them holing up in the openings cut in the station's hull.

  The surviving defense modules switched to curtain fire. They critted one of the Condors which plunged into a chaotic spin, ramming the station in a ball of fire.

  Liori and I targeted the plasma generators using this already-tested scheme: she removed the shields while I fired my pulse guns.

  Got him! My missiles sliced through the armored hull structure, its powerful blast tearing up the Dargians' firing position from the inside. It fell apart in a swelling cloud of red-hot fragments like a heap of crimson autumn leaves when you kick them.

  Panic set in among the Dargians. Their space defenses had been destroyed. What else would these unknown invaders do?

  They rushed around like headless chickens. Little wonder: the four fighter craft hovering overhead meant their death sentence.

  Suddenly we saw the Emgles leave the Founders' ship. They soared up and headed for us.

  "Frieda — your turn!" Instinctively I banked, trying to avoid a collision. Too late. One of the Emgles effortlessly caught me up and rammed me. The shields self-destructed, melting the hull of my ship. I lost control. The last thing I saw were the shreds of some translucent substance veined with power channels, flying everywhere. Then a shuddering impact knocked me out.

  * * *

  My heavy armored suit and the secure pilot seat had saved me from respawning.

  My ship rammed the station not far from the Founders' craft.

  I stared at the dying screens watching two more Cond
ors go down. Obeying the Dargians' command, the Emgles had sacrificed themselves, bringing them down.

  Liori was the only one who'd managed to escape their assault. She was now busy taking her damaged Condor toward the station's deserted area, trying to shake off two more Emgles chasing her.

  I tried to move. My gear's muscle enhancers were working. My ribs ached from my scuffle with the Outlaw. My lip bled from when I'd bitten it on impact.

  My ship was completely deformed, its stern squashed. I had to use the emergency exit located fore. It opened easily but proved a bit too small for my new suit. I had to force my way through.

  I took cover behind a massive weapons' stanchion and contacted the others. "Drake?"

  The only thing I knew about the mercs were their names — not all of them even. We'd never had the chance to get to know each other.

  "In position," the snipers' leader replied. "Ready for action. Zander, two Emgles are chasing Liori. There was nothing Frieda could do."

  "I saw it. Wait for my orders," I switched over to the second group's combat chat. "Jurgen?"

  "In position."

  "Commence the assault."

  Not far from where I was, the Dargians began scrambling out of a gaping hole in the station's hull, hurrying to vacate their temporary shelter. They'd already recovered from the shock and taken stock of the situation, impatient to get even with the surviving pilots. With their levels 30 to 40, excellent gear and a nearby respawn point on board the ancient starship, they had absolutely nothing to fear.

  I knew it, too. "Charon?"

  Silence. His dedicated channel icon blinked aimlessly. He wasn't there.

  A surge of energy hit the surface nearby, spewing fragments of hull structures into outer space. This was Jurgen's group storming the slave drivers' base.

  About a dozen Dargians remained within my field of view. I scanned the area — no Haash around. Which meant that not all was lost. If Charon and his people had managed to retreat within the starship, it meant another unpleasant surprise for the slave drivers. In the meantime, they wouldn't get a respawn out of me.