Lost in Space

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Lost in Space Page 20

by Dmitry Raspopov


  Should I cancel the virus injection, Viktor? It will certainly leave traces all over the networks.

  No. Leave as it is. Those traces are useful to us.

  Accepted. Priorities have been updated.

  Great, I rejoiced at the agreement achieved. That was when I noticed that I was far from home and that I had obliviously walked into a strange neighborhood.

  Chapter 31

  “Hey, kid!”

  I turned in the direction of the voice. A group of three bully-looking guys, roughly my age, seated on a bench were waving at me, inviting me to come closer.

  I’ve had enough of bullies in my school years, so I just turned and walked away. That, of course, provoked them. They surrounded me the next moment, forcing me to stop. The shortest guy spoke. “Why don’t ya respect people, huh? We’re callin’ ya, an’ ya’re too proud to come talk?”

  Before, encounters such as these used to fluster me, but now that I knew that my life and the whole Earth were at stake, these bullies were nothing but annoying.

  “Nikolai Zheltov,” I said. “Weren’t you told by Officer Tamara that your suspended sentence will become a proper one after another committed offence?”

  The short guy stopped abruptly. His eyes widened.

  “Toporov, Nikolski,” I continued, addressing the other two. “You’re wanted for what you did yesterday in the park. If I were you, I’d hide for a couple of weeks.”

  Hastily, I went over everything that I had on these three. I saw the police report filed by those who had been robbed by these bullies the day before in the park. The small fry gangsters were oblivious of the surveillance cameras there and now they were wanted by the police, and there was even a small reward for helping find them. Sure, I took advantage of that right away, taking and sending a picture of the trio with their precise geo-location through my internal interface. All without even touching my phone.

  “Who are you?” The three exchanged confused glances, no longer trying to attack me.

  “I’m looking for Red. Do you know where to find him?”

  According to the police dossiers, Red was the nickname of their gang boss. Hearing his name made the guys take a step back and start answering with some respect. “He’s not here. Went for vac with his chik last week. Tell him a thing from ya?”

  “No, thanks. I’ll find him myself and tell him what I need.”

  Losing any interest in me, they retreated back to their bench. I hurried to leave the neighborhood before I get into another mess. My heart was thumping and my hands were shaking. Reaching the brightly lit streets, I immediately called a taxi and regained my senses only once I was on the ride home.

  ***

  Enough adrenaline for today.

  Getting my body into the capsule, I returned to what I had started that day with—the updated shop menu.

  “What to begin with?” I went over the multiple folders and came back to my hangar. My current ship, with all its upgrades and improvements, was priced at three million credits. I had almost that much on my account, which offered me a lot of choices.

  “Researcher? Can you tell me what ships are the best? And which are best avoided?” Getting lost among the endless options, I decided to ask for advice.

  The ships of the Iltruist race—one of these you currently have—are highly valued by mercenaries because of their affordable price and good value-for-money ratio. Their main problem is the scarcity of resources for their modules and material. In other words, they do not last. Using the data I have, I can recommend you a Horg ship as they are one of the most developed races on the military spacecraft market. Their development level is PQ82. The prices of their spacecrafts are rather high, but all the materials and technologies they use are of superior quality.

  “Sounds great. But I won’t be able to enter a mission on a ship that’s not listed as a simplified shop version. I’d rather not have to explain how I came to have such a ship.”

  Then it’s up to you, Viktor.

  I opened the shop again and filtered the ships by manufacturer race. Yes, the cheapest Horg ships appeared to be twice as expensive as those made by any other manufacturer, which was justified by their superior characteristics.

  “Um... What if I select a hull from models available at higher levels?” Thinking it over, I filtered only the hulls, selecting “Iltruist”, and “level 7”.

  The only model remaining on the screen had the operational payload more typical for a light destroyer than a fighter. It was shaped like a disc with cut sides. Lots of false wings were spreading from the said cuts, tipped by the ship’s position correction engines. This structure with eight wings on each side looked rather weird, but everything else about it was just perfect.

  I took the hull from its slot and put it next to mine on the virtual ship assembly table. I was going to change several of its modules in order to save some money.

  The first module I changed was the gravity compensation system. I’ve only bought it recently, and it’s good enough. I then added the scanning system that was sitting on the hangar shelf, then the life-support system and the AI from my ship. I had been happy with these two so far. Extremely.

  “Researcher? Can you modify the ship AI to make it more obedient?” I asked, recalling the AI’s behavior on the planet where I had obtained the pyramid.

  I’ve connected and copied all of its matrixes. I can completely replace it if you wish. My brain tenant made another offer I couldn’t refuse.

  “Replace it with yourself?” I specified.

  Yes. I’ll have no problem handling ship operations and firing tasks.

  “Then I’m selling it.” I rejoiced at the opportunity to make extra money. “Hey... Can you extract data from a more advanced AI module if I buy one?”

  Sure. I’ll only have to hack into the manufacturer’s defense. That’s much easier to do when the module is purchased legally.

  “I’ll keep that in mind then.”

  My old ship looked like Dr. Frankenstein’s unsuccessful experiment when I put it for sale in the virtual shop, its modules sticking out as if I had already started to disassemble it physically.

  “What about weapons? Any recommendations? I’m actually happy with my current one. I’ve only bought it recently.”

  I can recommend you the second-generation Horg plasma gun of the Rangon system.

  “That’s the second time I hear about equipment generations and systems. How do they compare to each other?”

  That’s the classification system used in the inhabited space, particularly for military equipment. As you understand, there are too many manufacturers and models for anyone to be able to compare them directly. To assist the customers, any newly developed models are inspected and assigned to a generation according to their degree of advancement as compared with the existing models in the market. Currently, the most advanced generation is the fifth one. Knowing that, you can easily estimate the level of any model you see. The system type is assigned according to the model’s characteristics shared with others of the same system. If the technological principle of this weapon or module is completely new, then it has to be certified and registered as a new system.

  While Researcher educated me on galactic trade, I quickly browsed the piece it had mentioned. “Um… The plasma shot speed and damage are almost the same as those of a kinetic gun. And it’s three times as expensive! Why pay that much more?” I was puzzled.

  Look at its shield penetration.

  The damage done to the shields was almost 40% greater than that done by a kinetic gun. The price made sense now.

  Plasma is the most universal weapon on the market. But it’s also very expensive and demands proper maintenance.

  “Won’t it get me into trouble?” I asked, examining the weapon from all sides. “People on the carrying ship will be able to see it.”

  The customers who carry you on their ships do not care about any individual mercenary. The only thing they care about is how much they’ll charge y
ou once the mission has been completed. Not exactly you, but your employer.

  “Wow.” Once I looked at the price, my thoughts started to flow in a different direction. “Are you kidding? A million credits for a gun?!”

  The choice is always up to you, Viktor. I just operate the purchase data of the trade system. I show only the most demanded items as my recommendations.

  “How many purchases for this gun?”

  Not as many as compared with views. Most are taking the junior model at 500,000. But it has worse characteristics. You can look them up to make sure.

  Researcher was right. All merchandise sold by the Horg Corporation was insanely expensive. Stealing a glance at the fifth-generation model of the same gun, I almost got a stroke when I saw its price. I almost got another when I saw its properties, which were as fantastic as the price itself.

  With a wavering hand, I added the plasma gun to the model. The ship’s price soared to three million at once, even though I was yet to add the engines and the camouflage system. I was not going to compromise those. I couldn’t really put my old ship’s engines onto the new hull because their power was not enough to move this colossus. The old camouflage system was not usable either. My ship would get irradiated so fast during the past missions that it seemed as if it had no camouflage at all.

  Collecting and analyzing the most recent engine purchase data at my request, Researcher suggested buying it from a different corporation. It was a moderately priced option with reasonably good characteristics. This engine model was the most frequently purchased one, and my tight budget screamed that I buy it and not any other. However, I still spent a lot on the camouflage system. With a firm hand and some confidence I got my money’s worth. I bought the second-generation Horg model. Anything below Gen 3, according to Researcher, was priced low enough for individuals and small businesses to afford, and using half a century outdated technology. Did I mention that the prices of their latest models started at ten million?! For fighters! The modules and weapons for higher-class ships had an outright fantastic amount of zeros on their price tags.

  “We should buy a subspace engine, yeah? Is that how you called it?”

  Yes. Look at the creations made by “NetCom Corporation”, one of the most advanced on the market. I also recommend buying a shield system. I know there are almost no really good ones for fighters out there, but still it will add to your safety.

  Looking at the recommended systems, I winced. Their defense properties were extremely small. To function properly, they needed much room inside the ship to accommodate the tanks with condensation liquid. The more liquid, the more effectively they could disperse the concentrated energy into to the ship’s outside shields.

  “I better get an anti-missile system.” Eventually, I rejected the idea of installing the shield; the defense they provided was unimpressive. This step might make more sense once I get a bigger ship. But for now my main enemy were the missiles. I remembered how much trouble they gave me during missions. Finding a popular first-gen model, I put it on my ship.

  The ship’s appearance was transformed at once when the installed systems took their places. The plasma gun, which could barely fit into the total weight and size limit, was protruding like a cut piece of a lamp post. “As long it flies…” I snorted, looking at my ship that now looked like a winged Transformer.

  Viktor, I strongly recommend that you immediately order an adjustment service for all your systems. As you have different generation modules that were made by different manufacturers, you’ll need a Master, or higher, rank engineer that’ll make them work together without performance drops.

  I didn’t know that. My past ship consisted of same-level parts.

  The Master engineer whom I contacted through the trade platform asked for a whopping 300,000 credits for his work and promised to increase the synchronization level of my ship systems to 80%. Looking at the prices of other engineers, I grasped the underlying principle of their rank system and pricing. The higher rank engineers could grant you a higher synchronization level, but they also charged higher fees. A Grand Master engineer, for instance, guaranteed that you would get 95% synchronization, but charged 500,000 credits; which was exactly how much I could currently pay if I used every single credit that was on my account.

  Chapter 32

  My order’s icon suddenly started blinking. A red-skinned humanoid face with big, lidless eyes appeared next to it, scaring me immensely. “Researcher! What’s that? What’s going on?!”

  Call from Grand Master level engineer. He’s curious to see the one who has assembled this ship and who is now looking for a module synchronizer.

  “You’ve told me you’ll use a chain of fake accounts. How did he identify me?”

  The call reached you through that whole chain. Don’t worry. That’s just a broadcast. You can write him a message without using your voice.

  Calming down, I opened the message and was surprised to see the engineer taking such great interest in my ship configuration. He even offered his services at a serious discount. “Should I accept?” I asked aloud. The 50,000 credit discount was my chance to avoid being completely broke.

  I highly recommend that. A service by someone of this rank is seldom paid below 500,000. When it is them offering a discount, you’d better use it.

  We made a deal once the engineer was informed that my old hull and components were for sale. Part of those had to be transferred to the new ship, and others were going to be sold along with the old hull. He also took an interest in some of my old modules.

  Due to the discount, I had about 50,000 credits left on my account. All the rest had to be spent on properly configuring my ship.

  Don’t forget, Viktor: after the assembly and synchronization of all systems, you’ll need to fuel the ship, buy ammo for the new gun and consumables for camouflage, anti-missile, and life-support systems.

  In my overwhelming joy I had completely forgotten about such a “tiny” detail. I grabbed my head. I really had to buy all the stuff immediately so that my ship would be delivered in a ready-to-go state. Summoning the shop menu, I ordered everything, and ended up broke yet again. My account balance now showed two zeros; all the remaining credits were consumed by fuel and charging of empty modules. Most of the amount was spent on ammo for my insanely expensive gun.

  Signing all of the necessary documents, Researcher passed them on along the chain of non-existent mercenaries covering my true ID. Now I only had to wait. My old ship was to be taken away in six hours, and my new one would be delivered battle-ready and in two days. During that time, with no ship in my hangar and my purchase in transit somewhere in deep space, I will have to temporarily change my class from pilot to infantry.

  Viktor, If you’re so worried about finances, I can transfer any amount of money in any local currency to your account, my brain-mate suddenly offered.

  “Could I be exposed by making this move?” I asked. “Can you guarantee my safety?”

  There is always a degree of risk. But, in this case, it’s extremely low. I’ll conduct all transactions seamlessly in the supreme safety mode.

  “We haven’t yet sorted out the consequences of your past scanning,” I reminded, “we better not get any money right now. I’ll take an infantry mission and earn my bread so that I can survive until I get my new ship. With it, I’ll be making enough money myself.”

  As you wish.

  ***

  The quantity and quality of the groceries purchased by Home were same as they were during my best days. The infantry missions had only one advantage, which I made full use of and that was running about with a default weapon. You lost nothing upon dying. With no fear of losing my six-million-credit ship, I started behaving in a completely different way during missions. I went where everyone went and shot in the same direction, without much zeal and diligence.

  Time passed. Some missions were accomplished, others had been failed. I cared little about their outcome; I was just waiting for my new ship to ar
rive.

  Now, enjoying my meal, I watched TV news with half a brain. Most were about quite mundane things, but one piece of news grabbed my attention.

  “On the first day of the next month, a new device that, according to industry experts, is likely to disrupt the market will be launched in many countries. Many people, including myself, are rather suspicious of this device cooking any ordered meals using only three types of bio-paste supplied in disposable cartridges. Its dimensions are rather large, but still appropriate for home use. Besides, the manufacturer is promising to reduce its size to that of an ordinary coffee machine. The main thing is to keep the ordered food amount within its capacity limits. Yes, that sounds too good to be true, you might say. I can only say that we were startled, too, when we all of the largest global retails told us about Self-Chef at once. That’s exactly why we’ve invited this man to be our special guest today. Welcome Semyon Abramovich Shpak, the CEO and chair of the company producing Self-Chefs!”

  A lean, sleek man entered the studio. Smiling broadly, he greeted the anchor and both of them came to a small cabinet, about the size of an MFP, in stylish aluminum case with no inscriptions, topped with a bright panel.

  “Semyon Abramovich. What I’ve heard about your device sounds fantastic. Could you please demonstrate how it works? I feel like I won’t be able to believe it until I see it.” The anchor cast avid glances at the device.

  “Sure. That’s why I am here—to personally present our new creation. I’m sure it will soon take over the world.”

  “Is Self-Chef a Russian product or made by a global corporation?” the anchor asked.

  “We’re a global company, but we pay taxes in Russia,” the other man evaded. “Please tell me—what meal would you like to taste now?”

  “Well, I’m no big fan of high cuisine to come up with a really special order. So let’s try a plain one—steak with asparagus.”

 

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