Lost in Space

by Dmitry Raspopov

  Lost in Space

  Book 1

  By Dmitry Raspopov

  Text Copyright © 2019 Dmitry Raspopov

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book can be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the author.

  Introduced by Valeria Kornosenko

  Translated by Ingrid Wolf

  Edited by Sanja Gajin

  Cover designed by Oleg Gorbachik

  Illustrations by Vikenty Chernolesov

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Prologue

  “Hi, Viktor.” The chairman, who was also the managing director of our team, met me in his office, with a lawyer sitting by his side. I knew that man was a lawyer; I’d met him at our training base before. My heart skipped a beat.

  Why is he here? I went over all of my recent blunders, but no ready explanation came to mind. The past fine? I paid it in full. The European tournament? We won it. The taxes on our prize money? Paid. I was at a complete loss why the boss had called me in so suddenly, interrupting my vacation.

  “Sit down.” He pointed at the armchair facing his. I obeyed, sweating slightly.

  “You’ve delivered a good performance over several past seasons,” he started. “The team’s happy with you. But, you see… After we won the CIS championship, HiG, of the Empire team, approached us, wishing to become our player. He’s trying to make the global top with his team for the third year in a row, but every time they only score second. First outperformed by Zealots, then by Sheas, and this year’s championship is likely to become ours. He’s craving to become a world champion even if that means changing teams. Taking him on board will make Drones much stronger. And we must do it now. Before it’s too late to request a player replacement.”

  “But he’s their captain! Their best player. Their linchpin.” I knew Nikita in person. We weren't friends, but we weren’t foes either. Our relationship could be best described as a mutual respect between two pros. “And he’s ready to become our fifth?”

  “He’s a great sniper.” The chairman reached for a pile of papers on his desk—and pushed them, with a pen, towards me. “No. He’s the world’s best sniper. We need him. You saw the stats. Nikita’s ahead of you this season by whole five percent in hits.”

  My back grew cold as I took the thin paper pile. I did my best to conceal my feelings. This team had been my life for the past seven years. The dream I had pursued playing at pubs and climbing up the rankings, year after year.

  That dream was now falling to pieces.

  The document in my hands was a mutual contract termination agreement. I was to receive $100,000 in exchange for not playing for any other professional team for the next three years—and for handing my player account over to my past team.

  “But what about our recent victory?” I still couldn't believe that this was happening to me. It couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t!

  “I assembled the team yesterday. Asked whether accepting HiG would be a wise choice for our team. Everyone voted for him.”

  Masha did go somewhere yesterday, I recalled. She kept joking when I asked where she was going. She came back in the evening, casting strange glances at me and kept silent despite all of my attempts to get her to talk.

  “I don’t believe they would do that to me,” I said firmly. But my confidence was gone in a moment as the lawyer showed me the meeting minutes signed by all the team members. Masha’s playful flourish was there, too. Seeing it hurt me more than looking at the other three.

  “What if I refuse?” I managed to say after a minute of silence.

  “Then you’ll be fired. After that, you may try your luck elsewhere. In Empire, for example. They’ll need a fifth soon,” the lawyer replied instead of the chairman, smiling a predatory smile.

  He knew I would never do that. Drones were the world’s best team. Downgrading just for money was not my cup of tea. I’d rather not lose to my past team every time I faced it in tournaments.

  “Why do you need my account? You’ll have Nikita’s, won’t you?”

  The chairman winced as if he got a sudden toothache. “Unfortunately, his player account is Empire’s property. In order not to waste time on leveling, we need yours. Having it, we’ll just have to change the ship and pilot name.”

  “The amount of compensation we offer is very generous,” the lawyer intervened again. “One hundred thousand dollars is the best price you can possibly get for this account.”

  “Oh, really?” I said angrily, retrieving my biometric access card. “I’ll put it up for auction and see.”

  “Viktor.” The chairman glanced at the lawyer who stopped short. They needed HiG, but more than that, they needed my ship for him to fly without altering his mix of skills. Our fighters belonged to the same class, so he would spend no more than $4,000 on adapting my ship to his particular build. That was nothing compared to the cost of leveling a top account from scratch.

  “Viktor,” the chairman said again. I have never heard him sound so gentle. “You do understand that we’re not offering this money just like that. The team needs your ship to become stronger. Isn’t that what you wanted when you joined us? I remember you working for six dollars per hour under your first contract. Now you make almost $72,000 excluding prize money.”

  “I wanted to make Drones stronger, yeah. But you say that they gave up on me yesterday.” As I cited the chairman’s recent words, his face twisted. “Why should I give a damn about them?”

  “Good.” He looked at the lawyer. “We can give you $140,000. But not a cent more.”

  I thought it over. Another pro team could easily pay $70,000 or $80,000 for my account: a top player’s ship, with top-level skills and legendary gear. But I doubted that I could sell it for a hundred thousand, let alone hundred and forty. Finding anyone willing to pay that much would certainly not be easy or fast. That’s really a lot of money.

  I realized that I was considering their offer. Five minutes ago I couldn’t so much as think about parting with my ship. But now, after my team had betrayed me, dropping me for a player whom they thought stronger, I really wanted to forget everything just to avoid seeing their lying faces ever again.

  The last week we’d been reveling and drinking together, celebrating our victory, swearing eternal friendship and love to each other. Two days later, they dumped me as if I were a piece of trash.

  Despite the air conditioning being on, my back was covered in sweat. This accou
nt was the only thing I had. I had invested about $40,000 and seven years of my life into it.

  Back in high school, I started to seriously play Starry Sky; it had just opened for beta testing. Once the game had rapidly started to gain popularity, after that big campaign and the first world tournament, I decided to become a professional player. I trained fourteen hours per day, enduring heated arguments with parents about me dropping out of college. I had no social life outside the cyber world.. Three years later I had been hired by Drones, a starter team then, as their fifth player. We trained and grew together, winning our first CIS championship, and then scoring third at the world tournament. What a celebration we had then.

  The victories and defeats of the past few years flashed before my eyes.

  I made up my mind.

  “Hundred and sixty,” I said, putting the key card onto the desk, “and we have a deal.”

  Refusing to believe his ears, the manager exchanged glances with the lawyer who hurriedly retrieved his tablet to fix the figures despite his loud announcement a moment before that hundred and forty was their limit.

  Looks like they care more about my ship than about me, I noted sadly.

  The printer in the corner spat out the sheets of paper. A small office robot fetched them on a tray. Skimming through the new agreement, I wrote in the date, signed, and put my finger onto the scanner circle at the bottom of each sheet.

  “When should I come for access transfer?” I asked. I knew that transferring the game account access rights was a lengthy procedure, particularly when the account was biometrically verified like mine was.

  “Tomorrow. Or we can do it today. Nikita’s just popped in to sign the papers.” The manager handed me a copy of the agreement. He looked as pleased as one could get.

  “Well, let’s do it today then. I’d rather finish it and never see you again.”

  The hatred I felt toward these two ugly mugs, and the team that did not care enough to warn me about my replacement was suffocating me. All I wanted was to get rid of my ship and forget about the game and the lying bastards who called me their friend all these years. I wanted to forget them for good.

  I exchanged brief greetings with Nikita, but we didn’t talk as we both felt awkward. I was in a horrible mood. Once everything was done, I left my key card at the checkpoint and received a recommendation letter from the team. Once outside, I tore it to pieces, and threw them into the bin at the entrance.

  My hands were shaking with anger so badly that I failed to hit the taxi call button on my smart device. I had to calm down a bit before making another attempt.

  When the e-car arrived, I got in and put my smart device to the autopilot screen. The robot pilot calculated the cost of the ride and charged me. I decided not to pay extra to take a top-level road and save myself an hour of transit; I needed this time to calm down so that I don’t end up attacking my girlfriend, who joined my team in betraying me. I’d rather just look her in the eye and ask her about it calmly, without going hysterical.

  Chapter 1

  Seeing me at the threshold, Masha rushed to apologize. “Oh, dear, please forgive me. The manager prohibited me to tell you anything.” She tried to embrace me; I evaded. “He threatened to fire me! Please understand. He’d rather you didn’t know about that meeting.”

  “You could have told me in secret. Given me time to prepare...” Kicking off my shoes, I walked into the living room. She ran after me.

  “Oh, forgive me, dear. Please, please, please. Do you want to hear the recording of him threatening me?”

  The smart device let out a squeak. Retrieving it from my pocket, I saw that the agreed sum was deposited to my wallet. Now I was officially jobless and wanted by no one. Perhaps I was wanted, but the agreement prevented me from joining any team for the next three years, which was ages for a pro player; the game would change completely during that time.

  The money will run out one day, I reminded myself. $160,000 seems like a large sum, but I’ll spend most of it on mortgage. And the rest on paying my bills until I get a new job.

  “Dear.” Masha tried to kiss me, but I wanted no intimacies after what had happened.

  “Please leave me alone.” Without looking at her, I waved my hand, turning on the video wall.

  “Okay,” the girl gave up. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her retreat into her bedroom. Shortly after, I heard the entrance door slam, which meant that I was left alone in the apartment we shared.

  “Breaking news!” Switching through the channels, a news clip about Starry Sky caught my eye. “The gaming audience is shocked by Nikita HiG Ostrovsky, Empire’s leader and longstanding captain, striking a deal with the Drones to become their sniper. With the world tournament around the corner, such a move will definitely strengthen Russia’s best team. The fate of their current fifth, Viktor L0St Maximov, is still unknown. We’ve contacted the team headquarters, but they had no comments about this transfer. We’ll be watching how things unfold—and try to get any feedback from Viktor Maximov and the Empire team.”

  The news agencies learned about that at roughly the same time as me, I snorted. My friends—or rather those who called themselves that—told me nothing.

  Once the news had ended, my smart device exploded with calls that kept coming one after another. Craving for my attention were all sorts of folks, from past team mates to some undefined numbers. I responded to no one, and put the device on airplane mode.

  Turning off the video wall, I walked into my bedroom habitually, as I always did, to get some flight practice. But once the capsule was activated and I ran the access card through the identifier, the red flash harshly reminded me that I no longer had any game accounts. I had sold my only one just a couple of hours before. I hadn’t played any other games in the past two years, and had deleted all of their files and saves.

  That was when I fully realized what had happened. All that was my life for the past seven years was now gone. My ship. My team. My game. Everything vanished.

  ***

  In the morning, I woke to something preventing my body from rolling over. Opening my eyes, I saw Masha sleeping with her arm and leg over me, still fully clothed; she must have come home late. Taking care not to disturb her, I released myself from her grip and stood up. I didn’t feel like sleeping, particularly with the strong reek of last night’s liquor coming out of her mouth. Apparently she had a merry night.

  I looked at the girl. The yesterday’s anger went away, giving place to disappointment, sadness, and annoyance. On the other hand, Masha was a professional gamer, too. Just like me, she had never been anything else. So a threat to take everything away from her was more than enough to scare her into obedience.

  “Home,” I addressed the apartment AI. “Make me fried eggs with bacon.”

  “We’re out of bacon, Viktor,” the AI informed me calmly. “I ordered it yesterday. Delivery expected: today at noon.”

  “ What about tomatoes and cheese?”

  “We have both,” the voice didn’t change a tiny bit. “Would you like fried eggs with tomatoes and cheese?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “Estimated cooking time: five minutes. Would you like a coffee?”

  “Tea. Black. As always.” I sank into the armchair and waved my hand at the wall. The vigorous voice of the morning news anchor filled the living room.

  “Baby!” a displeased scream came from the bedroom. “Quiet, please.”

  I moved my finger twice to reduce the volume, and started switching through the channels in search of entertainment.

  “Fried eggs are ready. Should I serve them?” the AI’s voice came out of the floorstanding speaker next to my armchair.

  “Yes. Serve them here.”

  Soon the robot tray came up. I had to move the food from its top to the table myself. Just like the AI, this tray was a rather old model; the newer ones were more humanized to provide full table service. I just didn’t have enough money to buy those, using all my earnings to repay the
mortgage for this apartment in a wealthy district next to a large park and the city’s historical centre.

  “Oh, breakfast!” Masha, nude and disheveled, suddenly plumped down by my side and took my plate away. She washed the food down with my tea.

  “Masha,” I said angrily. “You’ve got a lot of nerve.”

  “Oh baby.” She waved her hand. “I got so drunk yesterday because of you; my head’s killing me now.”

  “Because of me, huh? Or because you didn’t warn me about my dismissal?” I decided to remind her of the real reason behind our yesterday’s quarrel.

  “I love you.” She blew me a kiss. “Don’t be angry, please. I know you have a forgiving nature. I’ve apologized to you so many times. After I finish your tasty breakfast, I’ll give you some more apologies in bed. Will you forgive me then?”

  Glancing at her naked body, I sighed. “That depends on how hard you try.”

  She used the bread crust to collect the yolks smeared across the plate, then wiped her lips with a napkin. “You will give me a moment. I’ll use the bathroom and come back.”

  The lustful glance she gave me made me realize that I wasn’t angry with her anymore. She was just as much of a victim as I was. Both of us had been forced into this.

  ***

  “May I use your capsule, dear? You don’t need it right now, do you?” Masha asked after our reconciliation during which w discussed the whole matter and reached a common conclusion that the team manager was a total jerk.

  “Sure you may,” I waved my hand, thinking what to do next.

  I knew pretty well why she asked for that; my capsule was the newest generation, much more advanced than hers. I had used all of my prize money to buy it. She could have done the same with hers, but she bought an e-car instead, while I invested in upgrading my main money-making machine and remained a taxi driver.

  Getting a grateful kiss, I was left alone as Masha went into my bedroom to tinker with the game console and the capsule. Shortly after, I heard the sound of the lid closing, followed by dead silence. Masha was in the game.