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Game Changer (Reality Benders Book #3) LitRPG Series

Page 21

by Michael Atamanov


  “Well hurry up, Gnat,” Uline threw out. “The Meleyephatian ship has asked us to identify ourselves again. We have aroused their suspicion somehow.”

  I already knew that time was pressing, and we needed to do something urgently. Maybe I could deactivate the bombs with a powerful electromagnetic pulse? After all, they were not simply shells filled with explosive material, but fairly complicated devices that monitored power flow and would detonate only when the hyperdrive was turned on. Hey, speaking of complex electromechanical devices... I activated the scanning icon. There they were! Each of the three had an identical label on my map:

  Magnetic bomb. Disarm chance: 72%. Total control chance: 32%.

  A seventy-two percent chance of turning each of them off... Hmm... On the one hand, that didn’t sound so bad. But on the other, I would have to repeat that trick three times and then the situation won’t look quite so puppies and rainbows. What was the chance of not blowing up three times? I remembered a statistics course I’d taken, calculated that and immediately grew sad. Just thirty-seven percent... not great, to put it lightly...

  Although, I might increase the chance of escaping by placing my unused points into Machine Control. I did just that, spending all three and bringing it to fifty-four. The chance of disarming each bomb grew from 72% to 77%, which was of course not bad. But the chance of successfully disarming all three was still less than half. Forty-five percent to be exact. So, should I risk it, or wait for Tini?

  “Gnat, the Meleyephatians are messaging us again!” there were now clear notes of panic in Uline Tar’s voice. “They’re threatening to shoot us down if we do not identify ourselves at once!”

  “Friends, prepare for a jump, I’m just about done...” I said confidently into the microphone.

  I then wiped the abundantly pouring sweat off my forehead and looked at the repair drone, carefully observing my torment with its dozen mechanical eyes.

  “If I survive, I’m drinking myself silly at the first space station we reach!” I promised the bot and chose the menu item “Disarm bomb.”

  Something inside the puck gave an abrupt click, which made me instinctively cover my head with my hands, although knew it was no use. But there was no explosion. Externally, the bomb did not change, though some important changes took place in the dangerous device’s description:

  Magnetic bomb (disarmed)

  Got it! And in the same exact way, before I lost my nerve, I turned off another bomb. And I stopped next to the third. My hands were shaking and I couldn’t concentrate one iota.

  “Gnat!!!” it was now Dmitry Zheltov. “Two Meleyephatian interceptors are headed toward our frigate! Best of luck down there, but I’m taking off in ten seconds!!!”

  We couldn’t wait any longer and chose “disarm bomb.”

  Machine Control skill increased to level fifty-five!

  Psionic skill increased to level sixty-five!

  You have reached level seventy-one!

  You have received three skill points!

  “Ayukh, send the message!!! Dmitry blast off!!!” I shouted into the microphone, and the slight burst and even hum of the hyperdrives a second later told me we had escaped.

  Completely powerless, I crawled on the metal floor and pulled the long metal millipede toward me like a house pet, slapping it on the back in approval:

  “For that, I’m gonna color you white, Kirsan, so I always remember what you did for me! I don’t know if you understand me or not, but I am eternally grateful to you!”

  The captain’s tablet vibrated, I extended a hand and turned on the screen:

  Captain, the Senior Mechanic has sent a list of necessary materials for purchase:

  1 can of AAB-2 white enamel paint

  1 paint sprayer

  Chapter Twenty-One. Alien Guest

  AFTER WAITING for every crew member who had gone into the real world to return, I called an emergency meeting. I held it in Geckho, which every member of my team spoke on some level. For half the crew, it was native. Gnat and Dmitry Zheltov spoke fluently, and the rest understood reasonably well. The worst speakers of the furball language were Space Commando Eduard and Gladiator Imran, but the others translated the difficult parts. There was no furniture on the starship yet, so I ordered still untouched carpeting rolls thrown around the most spacious area to use as seating. With time, this was going to become the break room. I made everyone attend, even Zheltov because the ship was on autopilot so he was free for the next two ummi.

  There were two main topics to discuss: the bombs and the Meleyephatian attack on the Geckho military base. And although I personally was much more worried by the first, I understood that the Geckho were puffing with patriotism and made up half of my crew. To them, the situation on the front of the ongoing space war was of higher priority, so I began with that.

  “Captain, I sent your message to a very old friend who serves on the comet immediately after I left the game,” Supercargo Avan Toi reported. “I admit, he didn’t believe me at first. He thought it was some kind of prank. He called me a clown... But, when he realized the gravity of the situation he promised to immediately get in touch with leadership and signed off. And when I reentered the game, I was awaited by a rise in Fame. Clearly everything is in order and the message got where it needed to go!”

  Yes, that seemed to be the case. I got a boost in fame as well. Two even. Clearly the name Gerd Gnat was flittering about in urgent messages between powerful leaders, and I had become a better-known figure. I agreed with the conclusion of the corpulent Supercargo. The Geckho command had clearly been informed of the danger, so I thanked his underling for the job well done.

  Basha and Vasha also reported that they’d sent their messages. Neither of the twin brothers had any personal connections with notable military figures of the Third Strike Fleet. For that reason, they sent theirs to the fleet’s press service, on an urgent message line and another few to public addresses vaguely linked with the Third Strike Fleet. Basha Tushihh had also gotten in touch with our former captain Uraz Tukhsh in the hopes that Kung Waid Shishish’s close relative would tell the commander about the impending danger.

  “But instead I came up against a strange anger and hatred from our former employer. It was motivated by nothing and bordered on pure hysteria!” Basha Tushihh was clearly upset and confused. “I had to hear a whole stream of flagrant lies and threats! Gerd Uraz Tukhsh accused me and all of us together, but above all Gerd Gnat of betraying and deserting him. Allegedly, we abandoned him at the most difficult moment, running from his team and taking a trophy ship for ourselves which should have been his to compensate the loss of the Shiamiru! He refused to do anything for me, especially send a message to Kung Waid Shishish, who our former captain is even madder at.”

  Everyone went silent, clearly shocked. The silence was broken by Uline:

  “As deplorable as it may be, we must conclude that we now have a personal enemy.”

  “You know, we already had a clue,” the Supercargo spitefully snorted, pointing a furry hand at the three disarmed bombs, which I had set out for all to see.

  In response, Uline grumbled threateningly and bared her teeth:

  “I don’t believe it! Yes, my former groom is somewhat cowardly and not always a good guy, but he always acted honorably! Gerd Uraz Tukhsh could not have planned a calculated murder, and he also didn’t have the ability to mine our ship in the Ursa system or on the military base! He just wasn’t there!”

  The Supercargo laughed in offense and assured us that such a glorified war hero with the purple ribbon of honor had no need to do such things personally. He could probably have found someone willing to carry out all the dangerous work for a minor reward, or maybe even for free in expectation of gratitude.

  Uline started grumbling again, this time much louder and more frighteningly. I was even afraid that the Geckho lady might throw herself on her opponent. But the conflict of two team members did not continue, so I didn’t have to split them up or psychical
ly chill them out.

  The last to speak was Tini. The kitten said that he got directly in touch with the Great Priestess of his race with no troubles or extreme bureaucracy, and one of the four incarnations of the Great First Female eagerly heard out the alarmed teen. After that, Leng Amiru U-Mayaoo admitted that she had no connection with the military, because her work was purely of a peaceful nature. But she promised to send the important message to her friend Leng Keessi-Miau without delay. She was commanding one of the Union of Miyelonian Prides’ fleets.

  “But as for our next stop on the Medu-Ro IV station, Leng Amiru U-Mayaoo was not exactly happy. In her words, that station was only technically Miyelonian property, and the Free Captains were in charge there, so the exchange... you know what, master... there might be problems with the crypto. And also, it’s impossible to guarantee the safety of your ship or cargo if we go there. But after enough consideration, the Great Priestess advised us to get in touch with the head of the Pride of the Star Strangler, or the leader of the Pride of the Agile Paw and settle the delicate issue through them.”

  I didn’t tell my ward how upset I was about revealing our frigate’s route to an outsider because I understood that punishment would lack all sense. First of all, keeping a secret when talking with a highly experienced Truth Seeker was utterly impossible. Second, to any Miyelonian the Great Priestess was an incarnation of absolute good, the keeper of the history and traditions of their race, and even identified with the mother figure. So they simply could not think of her as a stranger.

  I was not familiar with the head of the Pride of the Star Strangler. Tini had also heard very little about them, and most of it was bad. That meant that I had to go to the head of the Pride of the Agile Paw, the friendly casino owner, who had once offered me a job.

  Then our conversation was interrupted by the repair bot. This was probably the same one I had promised to paint white, though I was not certain. All three millipedes were totally identical, both in terms of appearance and on the mini-map.

  “Kirsan, what do you need?” I asked, because the repair bot did not just crawl past, but raised the front part of its body and started drumming a semaphore with its jointed feet. It was clearly trying to attract our attention. “I do not understand. Uline, just give him your translator, let him explain.”

  Ancient enemy. Danger. Yes. No. Maybe. See captain.

  Ancient enemy? Who the heck could that be? My Danger Sense was silent, so there was seemingly no direct threat, and Kirsan just wanted to tell me something.

  “Take me, show me!” I ordered, getting up from the carpet roll.

  This time, everyone ran after Kirsan even though, “see captain” probably meant this pertained to Gnat alone. “Ugh, I guess Kirsan isn’t totally intelligent,” I thought with pity when the millipede, simply choosing the shortest possible route, ducked into the still empty elevator shaft and gracefully ran up the vertical wall to the upper deck. We had to run to the opposite end of the hallway and use the recently installed spiral staircase. We met back up on the upper deck, and the millipede led us to the captain’s bridge.

  “Aw, [beep] your mother...” Dmitry Zheltov couldn’t hold back the surprised exclamation. That earned him a weak, but significant crack from our Dagestani guardian of morality. However, the pilot was not mad. He might even have not noticed, too distracted by the image from the external cameras. “How did it find us? We changed ship, and this is pretty far from the Ursa system. Or is that a different one?”

  And in fact, spinning endless loops around our frigate, a speedy disk-shaped object was flittering about, which I immediately recognized as a symbiote. Last time, such a satellite was a great help to the Shiamiru, having cleared a path for our shuttle in a debris field. But what did it want from us now?

  “I guess Uraz Tukhsh was wrong,” old Ayukh mumbled happily. “The symbiote was not prophesying luck for him, but one of us.”

  “And I know exactly who,” Uline answered without missing a beat, staring significantly at me.

  Authority increased to 45!

  Ignoring my business partner’s hints, I turned to the repair bot, extending him the automatic translator:

  “Kirsan, do you know what this is?” I pointed at the oval dancing about on the monitor.

  Ancient enemy. Mechanoids war. Automatic Precursor defense system. Monitor space. Monitor hyperspace. Search. Intercept. Destroy.

  For the usually taciturn Kirsan, this was a more than detailed answer, and we all understood it. By the way, I had heard about these “automatic Precursor systems” before. My Small Relict Guard Drone had given a high probability that it would be intercepted in space and stopped by one. Seemingly, these Precursors were their neighbors in the galaxy, given the Mechanoids and Relicts considered them enemies. So were the Relicts and Mechanoids perhaps allies in that long-ago war? Maybe Kirsan had seen me wearing the Relict Listener suit, which is why he was so open with me?

  “And what that satellite doing? Why so close of us? He is basically crawl along our fuselage!” Minn-O asked in Geckho, demonstrating an imperfect but impressive mastery of the language.

  I didn’t think there would be an answer to that question, which made the Navigator’s words sound all the more surprising:

  “The Symbiote is repairing our hull. Meleyephatians use materials with shape memory to build starship hulls. In certain conditions, for example when they get hot enough, or are hit with ultrasonic or neutron radiation, damaged pieces revert to their initial shape. Even holes heal over without a trace.”

  “Yes, I’ve also heard that,” the Trader confirmed. “But as far as I know, it is a very energy-intensive process. The Symbiote needs a bottomless pit of energy! Where can it get that?”

  Just then my captain’s tablet vibrated, and I read an incoming message:

  Captain, you have received a power unit interface request from [unrecognized system]. Allow? (Yes/No)

  Here was the answer to Uline’s question! I chuckled and gave my permission, limiting its energy use just in case, so we wouldn’t end up sucked dry. My manipulation of the frigate systems went unnoticed by the Starship Pilot and Navigator. Dmitry gave a whistle of surprise. Ayukh’s massive jaw dropped, his gaze shifting from the power display to the continuing repair by the symbiote.

  Machine Control skill increased to level fifty-six!

  Electronics skill increased to level fifty-four!

  Electronics skill increased to level fifty-five!

  Authority increased to 46!

  The Symbiote was still shown on the mini-map as just an unidentified “plasma cluster,” which the ship’s radars could not identify. But I didn’t run a higher detail scan to study it, nor did I use the Prospector Scanner, afraid to spook our rare and skittish interstellar guest. As far as I knew, there had never been a recorded case of these satellites behaving aggressively. Also, I didn’t sense any danger from it and trusted my intuition, which was whispering that it was not worth risking such a useful bonus simply to satisfy my curiosity, and this satellite might come in handy again sometime in the future.

  I made sure everything was working alright and reassured Kirsan, while the other crew members suggested we return to the break room and continue the meeting.

  * * *

  NOW WE WERE DISCUSSING the magnetic bombs. Upon closer examination, we discovered they were of Geckho origin, absolutely identical and part of the standard kit of Sappers and Saboteurs of that race. However, the list of suspects was clearly not limited to these two classes. As it turned out, removing an armed bomb was very complicated, but basically any player with high enough Agility and Intelligence could install them.

  But who could have gotten them on our starship and when? It was incredibly important for all of us to find answers to these questions. So I suggested we have a brainstorming session, saying any ideas about what happened even the most unbelievable or potentially hurtful.

  First of all, we tried to answer the question of when. The most obvious time was
during our prolonged stay at the military base. After all, before that, no one knew for certain who the Tolili-Ukh X Frigate would belong to and no one knew that exact ship would be sent to us. But not all the facts lined up there, either. On the base, only the fleet commander’s repairmen had access to our frigate, but I personally found it hard to imagine some huge Geckho technician squeezing into the narrow gap, getting stuck and cursing vibrantly, though in a whisper as to remain undetected.

  “I have a full list of technicians who worked on the frigate,” Uline pointed to her palmtop, which is where she kept all this information. “We can find and interrogate them later. Although I agree with the captain, that a Geckho could not fit into such a narrow gap. Maybe a child? Although I didn’t see any children on the military base. Maybe one of the crew members saw some suspicious activity during the repair.”

  No, no one saw anything. But Eduard Boyko wanted to say something, and our Space Commando’s idea really was new:

  “I say we check our quiet little Princess and see if she had something to do with this! Minn-O is always silent, never goes anywhere and tries not to get in anyone’s face. And meanwhile, she has the most motivation to destroy our starship, because this vessel is our trump card in the war against her faction! After the death of Leng Thumor-Anhu La-Fin, who protected and sheltered his granddaughter, the Princess would have to prove her loyalty and use to the faction. And destroying a starship fits easily into that logic! What’s more, Minn-O may be a bit tall, but she’s thin as a matchstick and could easily make it into that narrow space. Try as I might, I for one could never squeeze in there.”

  Eduard had started speaking in Geckho, but quickly got flustered and switched to Russian. Nevertheless, Minn-O understood perfectly. So she stood up and, looking Eduard right in the face, answered with a surprising discretion and calm:

  “Alright, let’s say I really was going to blow up the starship. Where could I get the explosives? The only time I went to buy anything, two people were with me the whole way to the vending machine: Uline and Gnat. They saw my purchase list, what’s more they entered it in the machine for me, because I can’t even read Geckho. And they can confirm that there were no magnetic bombs on that list.”

 

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