The Outlaw (Phantom Server: Book #2)

by Andrei Livadny

  Level 2 of the Technologist skill available!

  Permanent effect: +1 to Intellect.

  New disciplines available:

  Light Gear

  Force Armor

  Heavy Weapons

  The list went on and on, its blazing script unfolding in the darkness enveloping my mind, then falling apart in a succession of symbols.

  Enough! The copying process was finished but I wasn’t going to look into the files quite yet.

  My mental command wiped out the crimson haze, bringing back the translucent icons of my interface. A new cluster of pictograms lurked in its corner.

  The mnemonic load indicator began to shrink back into the green. I had a foul taste in my mouth. Now whenever I focused on a manmade object, my view was blocked by sheets of its data.

  Automatic activation: Cancel. Always ask to activate.

  The fog enveloping my mind began to clear. But what was Foggs doing here? He was sitting in front of me, pulse gun in his lap, casting wary glances around.

  He noticed I’d come round and offered me a flask. I unclasped my helmet and greedily gulped some water down.

  “Next time you decide to download some junk, you’d better tell us first,” he grumbled. “Didn’t you know the scanner was faulty?”

  “It’s okay. How long have I, er... meditated?”

  “An hour. Probably more.”

  “Help me up,” I extended my arm as if nothing had happened. The data I’d copied into my mind expander was priceless, even though I’d only be able to use a fraction of it — as much as my current Technologist level would allow. The main thing was, I’d survived the download itself.

  Vandal walked over to us. “Zander, Kathryn’s come round. She wants to talk to you.”

  * * *

  Kathryn stood by the rover’s open cargo ramp, waiting for me. Her visor was open. She nervously nibbled on a blade of grass. Me, I’d have thought twice before doing it but she probably knew better. She wasn’t a level 49 Exobiologist for nothing.

  She wasn’t beauty pageant material but she was cute, with dark hair and a vague family semblance to Ingmud.

  “Hi there,” I offered.

  Her return glare betrayed mistrust. I could easily second-guess her questions: who was I, how had I gotten here and why had I bothered to rescue her.

  “Hi,” she took in my level, my gear and my implants. Still, she didn’t seem to be able to work me out. “Have you been in the game long?”

  “Three months. So that’s a thank-you, I suppose.”

  “For you it’s a quest,” she said icily. “That's what one of your raiders told me. Is it true that my father’s alive?”

  “Sort of. What if I tell you from the beginning?”

  She listened to me without saying a word. She apparently had no idea of the destruction of Argus or of the arrival of Eurasia. Still, she didn’t bat an eyelid when she heard about it.

  “So you’re supposed to deliver me to this Oasis, whatever it is,” she repeated coldly. “There was never much love lost between my father and myself. And this hybrid... I’ve nothing to do with him.”

  “He’s not just any old NPC. His identity is based on your father’s neurograms. He worries about you!”

  “See if I give a shit,” she snapped. “He can suffer all he wants. I understand you’ve got a quest to complete but sorry, I can’t help you there. If you think you can pull my strings, you’ve got another thing coming. I’m not a quest NPC!”

  “Roger that,” I couldn’t say I was happy with her attitude but what could I do? Kathryn was a human player and made her own decisions. There was no way I could force her. “So what are you going to do now? Argus is dead. Eurasia won’t accept you.”

  “Why not? Everybody needs a good exobiologist. Especially considering I won’t be coming empty-handed.”

  “So you’ve got the artifact, then?”

  “Not yet. But I will have. And you might actually help me.”

  Did she think that the level gap between us gave her the right to treat me like dirt?

  Quest update alert: Restoration of the Oasis.

  Step 3. Help Kathryn to find the artifact capable of creating an oasis of life on board a space station.

  Reward: unknown, varies.

  Declining or failing this will not result in your being fined.

  Accept the quest update: Yes/No.

  I lingered. “I suggest you drop your airs. We all have plenty on our plates without you. As for the quest, that’s not a problem. You don’t have to go back to your father if you don’t want to. I can show him the logs. It’s good enough.”

  It didn’t look as if we could find common ground. On one hand, I could understand her. Had a player arrived with the task of taking me back to Jyrd, I’d have sent him packing too.

  “All right... Zander. How about a deal?” she suddenly changed her tune. “I don’t think I can do it on my own. Help me to find Genesis. In return I’ll go back with you to the station to see this... hybrid. This way you can close your quest and get the reward. And after that, I'll sort it out somehow.”

  My interface kept blinking with the message,

  Accept the quest update: Yes/No.

  “That’s better,” I blinked my acceptance. “There’s one thing I don’t understand. Were there only six of you in this raid?”

  “There were eighteen of us.”

  “What happened to the others, then?”

  “Respawned.”

  “Who did it, the spiders?”

  “No. The dinosaurs,” she perched herself on the edge of a deformed crate. “We had three rovers. This was considered a safe location... smooth sailing.” “Some Tergans fell on us completely out of the blue. Now I understand it was all because of those orbital strikes. We’d seen some flashes on the horizon before they attacked. We were worried of course but not worried enough to send any recon probes. It could have been Dargians fighting or testing some weapons. Then we saw some clouds of ash covering the sky. We stopped and decided to investigate, after all. Just as we began scanning their communication frequencies, these dinosaurs came in, flying low. Their wings were burned, their wounds were fresh.”

  She paused, then went on, “Tergans are extremely dangerous. When they hunt they use their Venomous Spit which eats through any armor,” she began to expand. “We didn’t stand a chance. They destroyed two of the rovers on the spot. I managed to bring mine here. We left it and tried to take cover in the gorge, thus triggering the spiders. That’s basically it.”

  “We saw the Tergans. We too had a close shave. How about your ship?”

  “It’s fine. Well-hidden, too. You’ll never find it without me.”

  She sounded all businesslike as if she really didn’t care about her raid and the global event unfolding around us.

  Okay. If that’s the way she wanted it.

  “Tell me more about this artifact,” I said. “Where is it? Why would you need a drilling rig and a technology scanner? Come on, spit it out. I’m not going to jump into anything blinkered.”

  She paused. “Genesis is dangerous,” she finally said. “We weren’t going to disturb it. All we wanted to do was scan it and build a copy to look into it properly so that we could come up with something similar.”

  “It’s underground, isn’t it?”

  “Yes. This location has a unique dungeon that used to house the Founders’ science lab. A thousand years ago they sealed it and promptly forgot about it.”

  “Why?”

  “Can’t tell you. Scriptures say nothing about it.”

  “D’you mean we need to mop up the dungeon?”

  “Not even. All we need to do is go back to my ship. I have another rover there ready for action. I know more or less where to look for the artifact. We’ll use seismic sensors to pinpoint the main laboratory’s exact location. All we'll have to do is drill a hole and lower the scanner down. That’ll allow us to create a detailed copy of the artifact. Not brain surgery, is it?”<
br />
  “If you don’t consider the mobs’ spontaneous migrations.”

  “You’re right,” she admitted. “There’s always the risk of that.”

  “Considerable risk, I’d say. Which brings us to my last term.”

  She struggled to remain indifferent. “Which is?”

  “There’s a respawn point not far from here. It’s controlled by slave drivers,” I showed her the video made by the recon drone. “There’re no defenses left there worth mentioning. Before we get out of here, I want to use your ship to storm the camp and rescue some prisoners.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “What’s that got to do with you?”

  “They’ve got my friend. This is the quickest way to get him out. Don’t you care about your raid members? I’m sure they’re all there now stuck in cages like circus monkeys!”

  I got the impression she didn’t really care. Still, she didn’t argue.

  “Deal,” she nodded. “Once we locate and scan the artifact, we can go check on the Dargians and get the hell out of here.”

  “And after that, we go to the station,” I added.

  “Sure. To see Daddy,” she cringed.

  “Good. I’m sending you an invitation to join the group.”

  “No need to. I join no one.”

  “If you wish. I’ll go have a word with the guys.”

  * * *

  My men had given us some space. They’d taken up positions by the cliffs, keeping an eye on the area.

  “I have a proposal to make,” I said. “Firstly, have all your quest chains been updated?”

  “Yeah,” Vandal didn't seem overly enthusiastic. “Help Kathryn to find the artifact capable of creating an oasis of life on board a space station.”

  “The reward 'unknown, varies'. Is that all right with you?”

  “It's probably worth it,” Foggs agreed. “How far to her ship?”

  “Three miles as the crow flies. Here's the map,” I forwarded them our new route that led toward the forest and around a hill, then ended in a large clearing.

  “She'll sell us out,” Vandal said.

  “What makes you think so?”

  “Just a gut feeling. There's a catch there somewhere.”

  “It's not going to be easy, if that's what you mean. The orbital strikes have triggered mob migrations,” I said, then repeated Kathryn's story about the death of her raid.

  “Does that mean this location is now unpredictable?” Foggs asked.

  “It is. The plain is the most dangerous area. I hope that the forest isn't as bad; in any case, it'll cover us from flying mobs. I'll try to talk Kathryn into not repeating the same mistake she already made. She should leave the rover where it is and use the ship instead to fly over the location and scan it. If we use the antigrav and fly low, the Dargian artillery might not even notice us.”

  “Fair enough,” Vandal agreed. “I'm not looking forward to hiking thirty miles back across the mountains.”

  “Count me in,” Foggs said. “It's not as if we have an option. But we need more guns.”

  He was dead right there.

  I contacted Kathryn. “Meet you at the rover. We need to get some more weapons. The buffs are on you: Intellect and Stamina.”

  “No objections to exo, I hope?”

  “I don't think so.”

  “No problem there, then. Plenty of that stuff lying around.”

  “What's your plan?” Foggs asked me as we walked back toward the rover.

  “I have a few abilities I want to try,” I opened my characteristics tab and added my two available XP points to Replication.

  “And this Stamina buff, is it for you to stay awake? Your metabolic corrector isn't up to it anymore, I suppose. You be careful, Zander. You might regret it.”

  “I'll be all right,” I slapped his shoulder. “Thanks, anyway. But we do need some normal guns now, that's for sure.”

  We reached the rover. Kathryn handed me a cartridge with some exo. I clicked it into my suit and waited for the metabolites to kick in, then began the replication process. Now I could create four nanite colonies which meant that I could replicate them four times every twenty-four hours.

  With a flash, the air filled with Molecular Mist. Kathryn's eyes narrowed in surprise. She probably never heard of this ability before.

  I brought a large rag and spread it on the ground. “All the weapons and techno loot, just throw it all down here.”

  Foggs and Vandal lay down their recent trophies: the broken Dargian sniper's rifle and two pulse assault rifles, as well as a bunch of modules and spare parts they'd picked up by the rover and inside the Daugoths' lair.

  I crouched, scanning them. The Technologists Clan database allowed me to identify most devices, analyze their parts and appraise their usability.

  I discovered several electromagnetic boosters, a couple of excellent recoil dampers, a broken gravitech and a pulse control module.

  Not bad.

  I reached into my inventory for the Founder's Glove I'd picked up back at the space station. My new improved skills now allowed me to understand how to use it.

  Kathryn's stare filled with surprise and anxiety. What was she afraid of?

  Vandal wheezed, looking over my shoulder.

  The three-finger glove didn't fit me. Still, I didn't hesitate to put it on. Kathryn shrank back. The fine fabric began to leak, hugging my wrist and forming a connector, hooking itself up to my suit's micro nuclear battery supply.

  Transformation completed. Conditions for the activation of special abilities met.

  You've received an item: Modulator.

  Class: rare, indestructible.

  Permanent effect:

  +1 to Intellect

  +1 to Learning Skills

  +2 to Alien Technologies

  +1 to Mnemotechnics

  You now have five nanite colonies available for simultaneous use.

  -10% off the mnemonic load required for nanobot control.

  You are now able to build command sequences. See your Mnemotechnics tab for more details.

  My head swam; the back of my neck began to prickle.

  Vandal wasn't looking over my shoulder anymore: he too had shrunk back. Foggs paled and tensed up.

  Fine strands of energy reached out of my fingers to the pile of junk. Nanites swirled around the broken parts like whiffs of smoke.

  I closed my eyes. This way it was easier to focus on the job at hand.

  I removed the boosters from two broken Dargian modules. The parts hovered in the air, seemingly weightless, as they heated up. A fine veil of nanites enveloped them. I could hear the quiet crackle of static as the boosters began to transform, acquiring the characteristics I needed. Obeying my mental command, the nanites transported them to the sniper's rifle and installed them.

  Next. The recoil dampers.

  I felt a scorching heat as the gun's new parts began fusing themselves to the metal, creating new connection ports. The air stank of smoke and ozone as the white-hot nanobots bored themselves into the steel, creating new power and control circuits.

  A few minutes later, the opalescent image of the gun turned green. A message popped up,

  You've created a unique item: [insert name]

  You receive +1 to your Mnemotechnics skill.

  You receive +2 to your Technologist skill.

  You receive +1 to your Alien Technology skill.

  You've received a new level!

  You have characteristic points available!

  You have skill points available!

  You have ability points available!

  I breathed a sigh and opened my eyes. My Physical Energy bar was dangerously in the red. I felt exhausted. Still, the result had been worth it: I'd assimilated a Founders' artifact and used it to create a unique weapon.

  Kathryn cast wary glances at me. She looked lost. The suspicion in Foggs and Vandal's eyes had given way to curiosity.

  I took one look at my creation and gave a tired chuckle. It weighe
d all of twelve pounds; the new bonded parts looked rather lopsided. It wouldn't win any design prizes for me, that's for sure.

  [insert name], the message kept blinking.

  I couldn't think of anything smart. Tesla-1, I entered.

  Now I could read its stats,

  Tesla-1.

  Weapon type: pulse rifle.

  Rate of fire: 40 round/min

  Capacitor recharge rate: 1.5 sec

  Damage: 1500

  Damage per second: 1000

  Burst: not available

  Unique. Cannot be repaired or restored.

  Durability: 750/750.

  “Foggs, try it,” I said.

  “What do you want me to shoot at?”

  I looked around and saw nothing but cliffs and the remains of the rover. “It's up to you.”

  Foggs lifted my creation and raised a surprised eyebrow. He checked the stats but didn't say anything. He took aim.

  The shot clapped softly. But its effect made us duck for cover.

  A large block of lime had been reduced to a cloud of rubble. The sound resembled a clap of thunder. A bit too loud. At least it didn't have a recoil. It took it one and a half second to recharge its boosters. The gun's barrel rose again. Another shot!

  The second round brewed up a cliff about a hundred feet away. Large rocks tumbled down the slope.

  Vandal's jaw dropped. “Holy Jesus. Zander, can I have one too?”

  “You and I will have to make do with regular ones,” I slapped his shoulder. “I promise I'll make one for you if you wait a little. Kathryn,” I turned to her, “you ready?”

  She looked lost. She would probably still boss us around but at least she looked as if she wasn't sure anymore.

  “Sure,” she cast me a defiant look, then turned away pretending she was rearranging her gear.

  I just couldn’t figure her out.

  * * *

  Despite our reservations, it took us a couple of hours to get to the forest without incident.

  These were truly virgin lands: Nature's own domain untouched by civilization.