The Outlaw (Phantom Server: Book #2)

by Andrei Livadny

  You want me to tell you? Should I reveal to you my entire train of thought that flashed through my mind at that moment?

  We had a forty-eight hour supply of life support cartridges. In order to reach the ruins of the nearest city (where we might find a repairable ship), we had to go past the slavers' respawn point — the one located in that camp of theirs where Novitsky was currently locked up.

  We could of course take a detour. Out of sight, out of mind. Why would we want to see human faces distorted by agony? Or watch their bodies being devoured by an invisible death? The bacteria strains unleashed by the Disciples would soon cover up their tracks, leaving nothing behind but a couple of lines in the game's Wiki:

  Admiral Higgs' reckless actions led to the death of the assault groups sent to Darg. The Eurasia fleet lost the bulk of its battle craft and its only resurrection platform. The interstellar station suffered return attacks and had to withdraw to the outskirts of the Darg system. Millions of colonists never awoke from their cryogenic slumber as their lives dwindled away with the exhaustion of the cryogenic modules' reserves.

  With a bit of luck, I might get out of here. I'd close the quest, get my reward and return to my ship. I'd shut my inner critic up and keep leveling. With the game's upcoming release, new fleets would be coming. They'd wipe the Dargians out and colonize their planet.

  Then I would disconnect my external neuronet. I'd remove it, as simple as that. It was naught but a stick of software studded with neurochips. I would lock it in a safe deposit box and tell myself to get real. Liori was dead. The rest was a stupid coincidence plus my own inflated imagination playing up.

  Only occasionally, in moments of desperate frustration, I'd think about her knowing that Liori was now standing in front of an enormous observation screen watching the stars and waiting for me to come back. For her, time stood still.

  One day I might succumb to the temptation. I'd open the communication channel and step into her personal virtual space.

  She would turn around, hope in her gaze. “How did it all go?”

  “It's okay,” my lips would curve in a sarcastic grin. “Many of them died, unable to survive the shock of virtual agony. Some lost their minds. Millions croaked inside their cryogenic capsules. Everything went by the book. Nothing to worry about. The game must go on.”

  That's when her smile would fade, never to return.

  * * *

  “Zander, are you asleep or something?” Foggs shook my shoulder. “Mind telling us what you and the Dargian have been conspiring about?”

  I startled. My interface glowed with many translucent icons. Active abilities were highlighted.

  My direct neurosensory contact icon was deep in the red. I had 13 seconds left of my 24-hour allowance. Enough to exchange a couple of phrases.

  The technology scanner blinked green. It had found the resonance frequency. Data collection in progress: 29%. This thing was fast!

  “Wait,” I told Foggs. “Give me a minute, then I'll tell you everything. I want you to keep an eye on the Dargians. Let me know as soon as they begin to remove the force field.”

  “I don't get you. You're being weird.”

  “Just give me a minute!”

  “All right, all right, keep your hair on. You're not the only one who's tired here,” with a disappointed chuckle, he walked away.

  Finally I could take a peek at their artifact! Its copy had already gained shape, filling with data.

  Genesis looked like a great many spheres connected by short cylinders. Its visuals resembled a 3D model of a complex molecule pieced together from a great many elements. A built-in gravitech allowed the structure to float in the air, rotating slowly.

  It size was impressive: about fifty feet long and fifteen feet in diameter. I'd have loved to know how I was supposed to steal it. Until now, I'd never had a chance to bag up an item the size of a luxury villa, at least not in Phantom Server. I might need a cargo ship to transport it!

  The data collection bar was already at 37%, making its basic stats available.

  Genesis

  Device class: unique

  Activation requires level 100 of the Alien Technologies skill

  Admittedly I started to feel some respect for the Disciples' leader. He was not just going to activate it — he intended to reprogram the whole thing. What level of Alien Technologies did he have, then?

  No, no, I was on the wrong track! I had to bide for time. I wasn't going to leave this place without a full set of scanner files.

  I heard the injectors click, shooting me up with a new dose of metabolites. My head cleared; all my muscles rippled involuntarily.

  I looked my group over. We'd done some nice leveling here but still the Dargians were way out of our league. They were all 100+ and their leader, level 157.

  I hate attacking on the sly but in this situation I just couldn't see any other option. If we caught them unawares, then our first hits had a decent chance of dealing them critical damage. The Disciples were much the worse for wear now. Their muddied gear was covered in blood and gore, the numerous breach holes sealed by the vague green shimmer of force fields. They had plenty of weak spots, provided we aimed accurately. Which meant I needed Vandal and Foggs. Both had ballistic calculators so they would be able to lay down precision fire with boosted power.

  I made up my mind. We'd have to send the Dargians to their respawn points. There simply was no other way.

  The world of Phantom Server was geared toward xenophobia, even though I'd never been hostage to its dark philosophy. My Friend of the Haash ability spoke for itself. Darg's history had always interested me, especially now that I knew that the planet had in fact been colonized; besides, these Disciples had proven very decent people indeed. But the situation had arrived at a stalemate. Roakhmar was obviously closed to any negotiations. He was bent on doing his duty and would make a quick job of us if he suspected any foul play.

  “So what were you whispering about?” Foggs kept pestering me the moment I changed my local net status to Available.

  “Do the Disciples have the force field deactivation codes?” Kathryn demanded.

  “I think so. And they fully intend to use them. Their idea is to destroy all organic life on the planet and create a new biosphere from scratch. So they've kindly offered us to make ourselves scarce before they activate it.”

  “No way! I'm staying!” Vandal announced, enthusiastic. “How can I miss something like this? I'd kick myself if I did. A video from the epicenter!”

  “And what if you snuff it?” I asked.

  “See if I care! I'll still have all the files with me when I respawn. It's all here in the mind expander!” he gave a meaningful knock on his helmet.

  “Let's see how you like it when the slavers meet you at your respawn point,” Kathryn began.

  “I can kick ass, don't you worry!” he retorted.

  Yeah yeah. “Kathryn, if the Dargians do deactivate the shield, do you think you could take control of the artifact? Did your raid have alternative options?”

  “No, we didn't,” she answered. “I already told you. All we wanted to do was scan the artifact, period. The ancient manuscripts said nothing about controlling or deactivating it!”

  “I see.”

  Not good. It looked like we’d have to fight. Whether we prevailed or not remained to be seen. Still, we had to try.

  I glanced at the scanner. 67% already.

  I outlined my idea to the others. Vandal nodded enthusiastically. Foggs, however, fell silent, thinking.

  “Zander, how's the scanning going?” Kathryn demanded.

  “It isn't. The scanner doesn't work,” I added a cuss word to sound more believable. I didn't trust her. The moment we'd met, we'd had this mutual dislike thing going. “We need to get rid of the Disciples before we can think about scanning anything.”

  “Why? Why are we enemies all of a sudden?” Foggs didn't seem to like my idea. I could see he had no illusions about our miserable odds against the
Disciples.

  “Is there something wrong with my explanation?” I said. “Actually, don't any of you think this storyline a bit freaky? The resurrection platform's shot down. There're no safe respawn points left. Now the Disciples will unleash the bacteria killing all organic life and wiping out whatever beta testers are still alive. What's that for a script?”

  “So you've decided to rewrite it, eh?” Foggs chuckled sardonically.

  “Let's put it this way: I want to find out if it allows for any alternative scenarios.”

  Foggs raised a surprised eyebrow. “As in? What kind of alternative do you suggest?”

  “First, we have to stop the Disciples from activating the artifact. It should stay where it is now, protected by the force field. This way everybody will be much happier,” I waved their objections away. “Then we need to get out of here, attack the slavers and take over their respawn point. Having done that, we'll contact Eurasia and ask for reinforcements. They should throw all their available forces into this breakthrough.”

  Alone I didn't stand a chance, so I kept applying pressure. “You think I'm wrong? You think it's a coincidence that we stumbled across the Dargians who helped us get here? No, there must be some secret storylines hidden in this script, and we've chanced upon one of them.”

  “Yeah right,” Vandal reached again to scratch the back of his head. His fingernails screeched over the helmet.

  “He might be right, actually,” Foggs cheered up. How I understood him. Every gamer dreams of discovering an alternative storyline. This is a rare chance that doesn’t reveal itself to many. “The Disciples will be a problem,” he mused. “The slavers' levels aren't up to much. We can do them.”

  Vandal glanced at the Dargians still busy with their weird machine. They didn't seem particularly interested in us. Vandal grinned and reached into his inventory, producing three spherical objects with lumps of moss still clinging to them.

  “Surprise!” he laughed. “Zander, take a look. Don't you think they look a bit like plasma grenades? Or am I a complete technology noob?”

  “Where did you get them from?” Foggs looked as if he wouldn't mind getting one of those.

  I scanned them. I didn't want to disappoint Vandal — this was a valuable find any way you looked at it — but these weren't grenades but power units. I read the symbols on a flange that ran around it. It took my semantic processor some time to translate it. The first section was labeled Activation, followed by ten rectangular segments of power calibration by percentage and two openings that looked like connection slots for external devices.

  “Zander, whassup?” Vandal couldn't wait to use them.

  “Sorry dude, but these are power units, not grenades. Similar to our micro nuclear batteries only much more powerful. You press this first symbol to activate them and turn the lug clockwise. Each segment is 10% power.”

  “Can't we overload them? Won't they blow up?”

  I immediately thought about the mob I'd exploded when testing my first nanite replication. “It might work. Good idea.”

  “And how about your Disintegration ability?” Foggs asked. “You did a nice job on those metamorphs.”

  “It won't work with the Disciples,” I answered. “Their personal force fields will scorch the nanites as they approach. And I can't send them directly inside the field yet. I need to do a lot more leveling before I can do that.”

  We stood there exchanging excited suggestions about our tactics in the upcoming fight with the Disciples. Kathryn alone was sulking, pale and silent.

  “Kathryn, are you with us?”

  Immediately she turned all jittery. “I can't do it.”

  “You don't have to do much! Just distract them,” Vandal had already bought into the idea, considering it almost his own.

  “Guys, do you have any idea what are you getting into?” her voice trembled, verging on hysterical. “You can only think of one thing — make war! Please let's go while we still can! I beg you!”

  She didn't receive the reaction she must have expected. Foggs (as the more level-headed of us) said, “Are there advanced Mechanics among us?”

  I shrugged. Vandal screwed up his face: he was a warrior through and through. Kathryn lowered her head.

  “Then who's going to fix a downed assault module for us once we find one?” Foggs continued.

  “Zander!” Kathryn pointed at me without hesitation.

  “I can't!”

  “You could make his Tesla gun! You managed to activate the tower's reactors. You can control nanites! What's there that you can't do? If you don't want to, just say so!”

  Pointless wasting time arguing with her. I couldn't repair a human ship using the Alien Technologies skill, as simple as that. I'd only just started leveling Mnemotechnics, and nanites couldn't work miracles, either. My Mechanic skill was only level 4 — way not enough to repair a spaceship.

  “We'll do it this way,” I took the initiative. “We'll act as planned. I'll try to hack their local network and damage their implants. If it works, the effect will be similar to the Stun debuff. They'll be out of circulation for a while. Their force fields are depleted, their power units are half-empty.”

  “How long does the debuff last?” Vandal asked.

  “No idea. Which is why we'll have to act fast. I want you to squeeze your weapons for all the DPS you can. Understood? Kill the group members, then focus on the leader. Don't stand still — Kathryn, that applies to you too. We fan out and keep him under constant fire. Vandal, give me one of these power units and give another to Foggs. If push comes to shove, we'll try to use them as grenades.”

  “As you say,” Vandal chose not to argue. What a picturesque character. He'd look great in Wiki... provided someone added our names to it one day.

  I glanced at the technology scanner. 95%. The data was recorded in my mind expander. I had to constantly inject myself with metabolytes to stay lucid under such pressure. These extreme experiments on myself might cost me.

  The bitter taste of some alien muck from the stimulants lingered in my mouth. I gulped a few times, then focused on the Tactics tab in my interface. We distributed the targets. A couple more minutes, and we'd commence.

  I concentrated, mentally pointing my group to their positions. I just hoped Kathryn wouldn't lose it. We had to pretend we were studying the hall searching for any interesting items.

  Our moral pressure was growing. The tower's lower layers still shimmered with force field auras but the number of shields kept dwindling as more and more emitters died with quiet popping sounds. The morphs' blood-curdling screams sent shivers down my spine.

  Foggs must have received his message. He nodded to me. His hair under the helmet was matted with sweat. Feverish spots burned on his pale face.

  Vandal whistled under his nose. The heavy pulse machine gun looked like a toy in his hands.

  The tinkling of falling droplets echoed in the air. Occasional little rocks dropped from the cave's ceiling.

  97%.

  * * *

  We hadn't yet reached our positions when Roakhmar unexpectedly headed toward the force shield. He was holding the ancient device — the key to Genesis, apparently, — its little display panel glowing with a complex sequence of pictographic commands.

  We couldn't wait any longer. We had to stop him before he removed the force shield.

  “Action-”

  The word stuck in my throat. My respiration gave in. All of my gear systems began flashing System Failure messages. What was this? Who'd done it? The Critical Failure debuff had affected both us and the low-ranking Disciples. Only Roakhmar kept walking toward the artifact as if nothing had happened. Kathryn was not herself, either — and she hadn't been affected by the debuff!

  I tried to croak the order again: no way. I couldn't even move. The group's local network was down. The scanning progress had stopped at 98%.

  One of the Disciples collapsed to the floor, his hands struggling with the helmet's neck ring trying to unclasp it.r />
  Why wasn't Roakhmar looking?

  Then I realized. The air between us had thickened, blocking out all sound. Roakhmar had no idea there was something wrong! He took one more step and approached the wall of shimmering light, then began entering the force field deactivation code.

  It didn't dissipate at once but began to fade. Apparently, it took some time to switch off. There must have been some charge left in emergency batteries.

  The thoughts had flashed through my mind. I was still alive even if immobilized in my dead gear.

  Another body collapsed to the floor: Foggs. He dropped face down without even sticking his arms in front of himself to cushion his fall.

  All our servodrives were paralyzed, all power networks down. Our high tech armor had betrayed us at the worst possible moment, its indicator bars shrinking helplessly into the red. I just couldn't understand what could have caused such a devastating and instantaneous blow.

  Breathe!

  My chest felt crushed. I struggled to take a shallow breath, enough for three to four minutes of my metabolic implant's work.

  I forced my unyielding eyes to focus on the interface. Why wasn't my mind expander working? Of course, dammit! I'd switched it to an external power source to spare my energy. I had to change its settings back. Let's try it... now... voila!

  The dim outlines of objects out of my field of vision hovered back into view. My interface icons glowed brighter. My dizziness increased. Blurred messages appeared in my mind's eye,

  You've been attacked by enemy nanites!

  Your body's servodrives don't have enough power. Automatic battery replacement impossible.

  My armor’s outline glowed with hundreds of crimson dots. These tiny energy vampires weren’t content with what they’d achieved: now they were eating their way through the cargonite!

  I felt like an ancient statue about to crumble to dust.