Lost in Space

by Dmitry Raspopov

  I had never been happier to see my comfortable apartment. Prohibiting anyone to disturb me, I spotted a tablet on the wall; it hadn’t been there before. By the large screen serving as a window, appeared the familiar teleport.

  Plumping down onto the bed, I took the tablet that appeared to be a small copy of the mounted quest panel.

  “Good.” I skimmed through the settings, noting at once that the teleport and tablet location within the apartment could be changed by shifting them to any convenient spot, including the hangar. The quest list was exactly the same, but now I could scroll it without any rush, while drinking juice or eating chips.

  Scrolling the list down, I marveled at such a wonderful update. The developers seemed to introduce a new feature virtually every week, each of those making the game even better.

  Chapter 18

  Attention, pilot!

  The system message, popping up just as suddenly as the last time, startled me once more.

  Level 3 quest: Bird of Paradise Garden

  The planet has been endangered by the newly arriving enemy air force. You are the only fighter pilot in the game. Are you ready to join the battle to support your fellows?

  Duration: 10h

  Yes/No

  “Yes,” I accepted again without much hesitation.

  Level 3 quest accepted: Bird of Paradise Garden

  Reward: depends on the quest outcome

  Fine for leaving the position early: depends on the quest outcome

  As a second pilot is unavailable, the required reputation with the Wargs for this quest has been reduced to 30.

  Load the location map?

  I gave another confirmation and walked to the teleport. In a moment I was on the mission, inside my fighter that stood on the familiar square teleport.

  “Let’s retreat while we still have the vehicles,” a calm voice came into the cockpit from the chat.

  “May we wait a bit, Denis? What if someone joins us? We’ve been here for ten hours now. Isn’t it worth ten more minutes?”

  The girl’s begging voice aroused pity. Oddly enough, the man’s voice gave a quaver when he answered her.

  “Hey, guys! Look! That’s a fighter! Right behind us!” the third voice burst into the chat, making it clear that they had spotted me.

  I looked around to appraise my surroundings. Why does this quest have such a weird name? The explanation was straightforward: this planet was extremely weird-looking. It had nothing but white trees crowned with long tentacles that were flying in the wind. No grass or shrubs, just millions of those white trees lining up in perfect rows on the horizon and, apparently, beyond it.

  What odd flora. I kept looking around in confusion while the people in the voice chat were trying to reach me.

  “Wow! I this is the first time I see someone have a ship!”

  “What if they can help us?” the girl said timidly.

  “Hey, you in the ship! Anyone there?”

  Turning the chat volume down to eliminate distraction, I started with obtaining a strategic map by scanning. Unlike the last time when there had been lots of ground machines and just two fighters, the current situation was just the opposite: twenty small aircrafts and only two large ground carriers, each one as large as the two alien discs from my earlier quest combined. Apparently having tremendous striking power, they stayed in place without moving forward, repulsing all human attacks. The fighters, by contrast, were constantly shifting their positions, agile and fast like mosquitos, attacking and retreating at once from the trenches occupied by our infantry covered with armored vehicles. It was the fighter strikes, going unpunished because of their height and speed advantage, which enabled the enemy to hold us back.

  I looked around again to decide on a better position. I wanted to face the enemies before they knew that I was there. Maybe I should start an attack from above the tree tops? Just fly away to avoid being detected immediately.

  Leaving the battlefield as far behind as the aiming system range allowed, I hovered over one of the trees, several feet above its top.

  “Target speed too high. Hit estimate is below 30%”, the ship AI let me down. “Position change needed. Adjust automatically to achieve an acceptable hit estimate?”

  No. I’m fine with thirty, I replied after a moment’s thought. Ammo’s full. I can afford shooting for a while at a safe distance.

  In ten minutes, and after five hit fighters, the battle situation changed. I was hightailing away from the agile targets, as fast as my engines could carry me, praying that the ship’s defenses would withstand the attacks and watching, with anguish, as the minutes ticked away.

  Level 2 quest failed: Bird of Paradise Garden

  Credits: -1,000

  Reputation with the Wargs: -10

  —the system informed me unsurprisingly when the countdown reached zero. In a moment, another message popped up:

  Leave the location immediately or find a safe exit?

  The choice was pretty clear. Selecting the second option and getting the chasers off my tail—their engines lacked the power to make such rapid jumps to the stratosphere and back—I was leaving the battlefield farther and farther behind, approaching the safe exit mark on the map. When I could no longer see the chasers, I placidly flew up to the familiar square teleport that was being installed by the robots right before my eyes.

  So weird. Are they doing it just for me? Why aren’t the others coming? Or do they get a safe spot of their own?

  There had been no one that I could ask these questions to; the voice chat was empty.

  When the robots were done, I hesitated. Quest failed, yeah. But last time it was still counted as completed afterwards.

  No loot for me. They aren’t giving it even though I hit five enemy fighters. Is it because everyone had failed the mission?

  Had I not spent that many credits earlier that day... Had I not argued with Masha… I would have probably just left, forgetting the failed task. But my greed and awareness and the five hit ships lying somewhere in this area, as well as the others that were flying about, prevented me from doing that. I decided to stay.

  Turning my ship to where I had just come from and now aware of the enemy fighters’ flaws—they were dangerous at low heights but not up high—I ascended until I got that nasty warning about height limitations.

  What’s wrong with this game? I wondered, failing to come up with any possible reason to confine such powerful ships to atmospheric flights. What about space battles? Journeys? I really wanted to see how these planets would look from space, at a great distance.

  Alas, the ominous message was not going to disappear and neither were the stupid restrictions. I didn’t want to risk losing my ship, so I descended to a more acceptable height and hovered to select the best viewing angle for aiming.

  “Locked on. Estimated hit probability is below 20%,” the AI informed at once.

  “Stay locked on. When attacking a single target, go down to achieve 40-50%, but when their fighters start to come closer, retreat to the current height,” I said aloud, programming the AI with my voice. “Do it.”

  I doubt think I could ever be able to act as fast and bold as the AI did. The ship descended with such great acceleration that it forcefully pressed me into the chair: the moves were too brief and rapid for the gravity compensators to be able to react. Firing several shots, it gained height again.

  This swinging lasted for hours. By the end, I could barely manage to stop myself from vomiting, but I wasn’t going to change my tactic. It worked! The enemy fighters went down, slowly but surely, either unable or prohibited to leave the location. If I were their pilot or AI—or whatever else was operating them—I would have left it nonetheless to avoid excessive risk. But they remained, covering their base and two ground units, trying to hit me at the maximal height they could reach and retreating helplessly to the past positions when I ascended beyond their fire range.

  My reflection on the enemy ships’ behavior was interrupted by the AI mess
age: “Task completed. All air targets destroyed.”

  Destroy the ground units.

  “Starting,” it replied and added almost instantly: “Task completed.”

  That was predictable. Without their air cover, the two heavy tanks could do nothing against a fighter attack and were instantly destroyed. To my surprise, no system messages about quest completion popped up. I decided to go down and see what else I could do. Taking control, I sent the ship into a shallow dive, targeting the location of the two hit tanks.

  Scan, I commanded to make sure there were no longer any enemies around.

  The strategic map blinked. Now it had nothing but the green dot denoting my ship. Even the base encircled by tall walls was no longer marked as enemy territory.

  What the fuck? I was utterly confused.

  Coming low enough to see the broken fragments of the fighters scattered on the ground around the smoking double discs, I found the battlefield empty. Not a single enemy soldier or transport unit. Pretty weird and unnatural. If their forces were protecting the base, there must be someone inside.

  Flying for about ten more minutes or so, I still spotted no living creatures or even air defense systems that could prevent me from moving freely over the whole base, circling the dome of its main building. That left me with two options: quit the mission, getting nothing; or try to sort the matter out by leaving my ship.

  Wasting this many hours on the quest and seeing plenty of broken fragments scattered around, some of which I definitely could lift, I decided to take the risk. Landing next to one of the hit tanks, I commanded to the AI: “Once I leave, go up and monitor the area. Shoot anything that comes close to me. I’ll make this gesture when I’m done. When you see me make it, return the ship to this very spot.”

  “Order accepted,” the AI informed.

  Opening the armored cockpit and coming out absolutely unprotected, in a light spacesuit that was not even armored, felt outright scary. I had no weapons as they were either unavailable to pilots or required more skills to be unlocked.

  I didn’t really remember the whole pilot development branch. Just like any other in this game, it was problematic to memorize because of its extensiveness. Perhaps there was one responsible for spacesuit weapons; I made a note to check it sometime later. I hadn’t yet looked into any skills further than level 10; those seemed too distant to think about.

  And now I had a more urgent decision to make.

  Chapter 19

  Open the cockpit.

  The servomotors buzzed. Soon, the cockpit inside and I were exposed to the light of four local suns, casting multiple shadows in all directions. Even partially blocked by the ship, they created such intricate patterns on the ground that I spent a long time looking at them once I came down. Such a weird and unusual sight.

  The ship operated by the AI, obeying the order I gave before, closed the cockpit at once and soared, showering me with dust raised by the reactive jets from its engines.

  Selecting the needed folder in the interface menu, I turned the external mikes on. A cacophony of sounds poured into my ears: from the howling of the wind to the crackling fire consuming the enemy machines.

  “Well, let’s take a look at the tanks,” I said aloud and took a few steps. The planet’s gravity was less than Earth’s, judging by how easily I took those steps, almost skipping along to the machines. I then started to control my moves, putting less effort in walking.

  As the breaches made by the missiles were on top, I had to climb the smooth tank armor; the magnets on the spacesuit gloves and boots prevented me from slipping off. Reaching the top, I realized how stupid that was. I could merely take a running jump to ascend without much effort in this gravity. I’ll try that with the other one, I decided, annoyed by this blunder.

  Peeping into the large, smoking breach, I saw several insects torn to pieces scattered about the tank. However, the body parts—at least those I that could see—weren’t natural. The insects’ bones looked like metal. Their muscles and tendons were made out of some white, fibrous material. Even the thin layer of living tissue and skin covering those didn’t seem to belong to a real body. My dead enemies looked more like androids than living creatures.

  While fighting in the infantry, I seldom saw any mantises torn to pieces; our rifles couldn’t do such damage. With little to not wish to examine the remains under enemy fire, all I cared about was grabbing the loot and escaping back to the safety of the trench as fast as possible. But now, curiosity made me descend in to examine the smashed head of one of the bodies. Instead of a brain, it had a number of small chips connected with bunches of thin yellow wires.

  Such unnecessary complication, I thought, getting out of the tank and heading for the other one only to see a similar thing inside it. Why invent these insect androids? Real body parts scattered inside the tanks would’ve looked more natural.

  Having no answer to this question, I just took everything that wasn’t bolted to the floor and put it in a small pile to take later. Having finished looting, I headed for the base.

  The gate was open. With the insect tube I had found inside one tank in my hands, I warily peeped in.

  What displeased me instantly was the ridiculous assembly. The developers did a sloppy job, making the whole base out of simple blocks. Instead of real buildings with doors that you could open to see what was inside, the blocks had holographic doors and windows, which looked quite like real from a distance. Only when I came up and touched them did I realize that they were fake.

  The base the other players had been striving to capture was a toy. Only the tanks and fighters defending it were real; all the rest was Lego bricks.

  I really don’t get it. Leaving the base, I looked around. Why couldn’t they make a real base? Why are only the units outside a real danger and all the rest is just for show? They could’ve put up at least some semblance of a defense. A couple of gun turrets. Some ammo boxes. Why couldn’t they do that much? I was at a loss.

  Getting nothing from the base, I summoned the ship and used it to guide me in collecting the remnants of the fighters scattered within 500 yards around the battlefield they had been hovering over. The fragments of those hit by the AI at great heights had been sent flying very far away and there was no point looking for them. However, most remained close so I easily collected pieces of hulls, some flight instruments, and even a few engines without much damage, piling it all up by the tank parts I had gathered before.

  The pile was now very large, raising the question of how I was to take it to the exit spot.

  Thinking it over briefly, I decided to use the insect parts or, more specifically, their muscle tissue that appeared to be a very durable synthetic fabric. Untwining it to fine fibers, I used them to tie the machine parts to my ship: to its wings, tail, and other protruding parts. In a couple of hours, the beautiful aircraft was transformed into what looked like a heap of burned and broken metal trash.

  The smaller parts, instruments, and weapons were piled up in the cockpit. I left it open to accommodate more stuff.

  Despite the extra weight and extremely crammed space inside the cockpit—there was very little room left for me—the ship took off easily. I piloted it to the exit spot.

  It was rather strange to fly with an open cockpit, seeing the local sky with four suns. The pop-up system warnings about the necessity to refill oxygen in my light spacesuit made me hurry up speed. In that very moment, I heard some part fixed to the ship from the outside tear off. The ship gave a sway; the loss of balance was instantly compensated by the AI that activated the maneuvering engines. I didn’t stop to check which part exactly had been lost, landing only when I reached the pad.

  Quest over. Select the available trophies to be added to your warehouse.

  The familiar message came with a long list of collected items. That was when I realized the necessity of the trophy selection option. I couldn’t take all the items I had as I had only twenty available slots. So I sorted the trophies by value and fil
led the slots with the most expensive items. I’ll plan better next time. I won’t grab everything but take only the most valuable of things. Although I had no idea when I would get another chance to loot the battlefield after a quest with no other players, and, more importantly, no enemies, present.

  Loading.

  Seeing this message, I found myself standing in the teleport circle in my own apartment where I had accepted that mission. Taking two steps, I collapsed onto the bed, still going over the results of my long adventure.

  Sure there are some downsides: the loss of reputation and time. The good thing is that I’ll make 100,000 credits by selling the loot. But how should I use the money? I knew I had two urgent and serious issues with the ship: the first was underperforming gravity compensators, and the second was camouflage. Besides, I definitely could use a better ship defense for when I face those small, but agile, enemy fighters again. And more missiles. On the other hand, money was extremely tight in the real world, particularly after Masha’s recent purchase and her withdrawing any help she had used to lend me before. Should I spend on the ship or on myself?

  I didn’t hesitate for long. The ship was everything I had in the game. I had put much at stake acquiring all those skills and sub-skills required to pilot it. Losing my ship, I would automatically be transferred back to infantry where my new skills would be useless, and remain in such a pitiful state until I saved enough to buy a new ship. The choice was pretty clear—all earnings had to be spent on my sole money-making vehicle.

  Making this difficult decision, I stood up and headed for the aircraft shop to buy a new camouflage system and, with any money left, refresh at least the compensator system software. The literal ups and downs I had recently experienced were not something I would like to repeat ever again. At least some updates for the compensators. I don’t think I can afford to fully upgrade both systems.