The Outlaw (Phantom Server: Book #2)

by Andrei Livadny

  The image of a red-hot wire cutting through the bars of other cages appeared in my mind’s eye. What was that now? A new ability or my hyperactive imagination?

  First things first. I had to check all the unread messages, distribute all the available XP points, learn the lay of the land and come up with a decent plan. I had to think well before I did anything crazy.

  I opened my skill tab.

  This implanted technology scanner had proven to be a very useful thing in combination with the Mnemotechnic skill. Once it had finished scanning Genesis, it switched to automatic data collection mode as we’d battled, considerably raising my Technologist skill and adding one of Avatroid’s abilities to its database.

  New ability available: Plasma Lash. The scanning process has identified and analyzed a device scheme allowing you to form threads of nanites which self-destruct on impact releasing enough energy for instant phase transition to the fourth state of matter (plasma). A stroke of Plasma Lash slices through cargonite armor up to 0.4” thick.

  The device’s original intended use: high-precision cutting of refractory metals. The Founders didn’t intend it for any other purpose. Would you like to add a combat module from the Technologists’ database to the scheme?

  Yes! Yes, please!

  New replication matrix available: Plasma Lash Generator. Once built, the device’s working range will (at your current ability level) be equal to 3 ft.

  “Meditating?” Vandal’s rough voice broke into my thoughts. He’d respawned after his paralysis angry and determined to escape and show the Dargians who was the boss here.

  “Low your voice, please. And keep an eye on Foggs, he might come round soon. Don’t start aggroing them without me, is that clear? I need to sort out my skills first and find out what they’ve done with our gear.”

  “All right. Just make it quick, will ya? I don’t think I can wait much longer.”

  I went back to my char’s stats. In mopping up the tower, I'd raised my Mnemotechnics skill up to level 20! How the hell had I done it? Surely my use of Disintegration and Differential Nanite Control couldn’t have caused it!

  I found the answer in the logs. Apparently, I’d received XP for Liori’s use of her high-level abilities as we'd battled through.

  Come to think of it, it was only logical. Her neuromatrix was only part of my Synaps implant.

  I couldn’t help thinking where this unique development branch might take me. The girl I loved had gone digital – and we were seeing each other inside my own freakin’ mind!

  A quiet ping added to my thoughts, informing me of the end of the twenty-four hour cooldown. The icon of the direct neurosensory contact lit up.

  The air thickened, tousling my crew cut. Gently it touched my cheek.

  I’m happy you’re back, I thought.

  This feels strange, she chimed in. This is my first normal respawn after I’ve transformed. Zander, I need some nanites really badly. At least nine colonies. The cybermodule is so cramped. I’d love to remember every moment and every experience but its neurochips just aren’t up to it. Will you help me? I’d love to be with you always, not just for 60 minutes every 24 hours!

  I lay there bound hand and foot, my arms and legs numb, but with a smile wandering across my lips.

  I will, only later. Nanite replication will attract attention.

  ‘Mind if I do it? Liori asked. I’ll be quiet, I promise.

  That got me curious. Go ahead, then.

  Silence fell, followed by a message,

  The external neuronet has used a surprise ability: The Call.

  I saw the air thicken with the flow of nanites coming out of a squat barrack-like building.

  So that’s where they kept my damaged gear, then?

  You have received 87,000 nanites. Warning! The colonies are fragmented. Their numbers need to be restored.

  I bet they did. Avatroid had done a nice job on me.

  The next moment, my mind blurred. I very nearly snuffed it. My Physical Energy levels dropped to 5%. In the absence of metabolites I had nothing to counter the Lethal Exhaustion debuff with. My life bar began to shrink.

  Zander, are you okay? What’s going on? Talk to me! Liori’s anxious voice brought me back to reality.

  I’ll manage, I croaked, switching my metabolic implant to overdrive.

  What had the game developers been thinking of? If the Mnemotechnics skill could be potentially dangerous, why introduce it at all? There wasn't even some fine print anywhere telling you about the price you might have to pay for your new superhuman abilities, considering the local authenticity levels!

  I caught my breath. It felt a bit better.

  Zander, I’m afraid you’ll have to materialize me, Liori’s voice rang with anxiety. Your body – I mean your real physical body – can’t sustain two consciousnesses. You’re breaking under pressure! Let go of me, please!

  “I won’t.”

  Don’t you understand you may die? Die for real? All I need is a heavy gear kit, a few nanites and some available energy. The rest I can do!

  “No,” I snapped. “That’s out of the question.”

  I imagined a new Avatroid being born of my cybermodule and a heavy suit. “Liori, we can find another way.”

  There is no other way!

  “How d’you know?”

  Because that was my job! I had to seek out neuronets and study nanite control. Don’t forget I used to work for the Corporation. I leveled up both Piloting and Mnemotechnics. That was exhausting but not as bad as you are now!

  “I prefer the in-mode malfunction scenario,” I mouthed faintly.

  Three Dargians stopped opposite my cage, talking quietly. The disgusting antennae framing their agile mouths twitched as they spoke. A combat drone hovered over their heads.

  I activated Differential Nanite Control and Piercing Vision.

  There must have been at least fifty slavers in the camp, levels 30 to 40. I could manage, provided I used all my skills but – I glanced over to the figures of the Eurasia players huddled in their cages – I couldn’t count on any extra help. This was hopeless. Players levels 7 to 10, crushed by the realism of their experiences.

  I forwarded the data to Vandal and the recovering Foggs, adding the file of my conversation with Novitsky.

  “Listen guys, it looks like we’re in it alone. Don't be surprised by anything you see. I’m going to create a new unusual combat shape for my nanites.”

  “When do we start?” Vandal demanded. All he was interested in was exacting immediate and terrible revenge.

  “Couple of minutes. I still have something to do.”

  “We’re chained,” Foggs reminded me. “And the cages are locked.”

  “I’ll sort it out. You wait. We’re lucky they’re not into slave collars here.”

  Liori didn’t argue any more. We maintained direct neurosensory contact so she could understand my idea well.

  I reopened the stats tab. I had forty-two available points. I invested twenty into Stamina and another ten into Strength. I just hoped that the increase in Physical Energy and hit points would temporarily protect me from any deadly debuffs.

  Now, the skills. Whatever I did now couldn’t be undone later. I realized that well, so I only invested in Replication, Disintegration and Object Replication. As for Piercing Vision and Steel Mist, Liori had a good grasp of them.

  Now. My advance in Mnemotechnics had opened System Failure and Breakdown: two of the most useful control debuffs indispensable against cyber mobs and enemies clad in techno gear. I invested two points into each.

  That would have to suffice. Now I could simultaneously control fifteen nanite colonies.

  The nanites that had answered Liori’s Call had split into several groups. The sensors of my Synaps had already chosen several drones as targets, selecting them as “objects suitable for utilization”.

  I was still bound hand and foot. The Dargians stayed put next to my cage, arguing. Could they be haggling over me?

&
nbsp; Replication, I sent a mental command to the nanites.

  The air stirred as they streamed toward the drones.

  The sky above the square lit up. Clouds of incandescent Molecular Mist swirled, forming fiery vortices in the air. The unbearable heat set the slavers’ tents on fire. Dargians rushed out, hissing and squawking, waving their arms and peering around themselves, uncomprehending, in search of the mysterious attacker.

  Liori had taken control of twelve nanite colonies. The girl’s shadowy silhouette appeared amid the furious but disoriented slave traders. They recoiled, scattering in all directions; someone opened fire on the figure but the bullets spun through thin air, wailing as they ricocheted off the cliffs.

  So this was her new replication matrix!

  The thirteenth nanite colony formed a Plasma Lash generator, giving Liori access to mine. The nanites that formed her body moved denser together. Thin threads of fire lashed across the square, cutting through the bars of the nearest cages, then showered the façade of a squat building that apparently served as a warehouse. The door exploded in flames; sharp fragments of limestone hissed through the air like shrapnel; the flimsy masonry began to crumble.

  Liori’s outline dissolved in the air only to reappear briefly next to my cage. She sliced through my chains and disappeared again, leaving the three Dargians writhing in agony.

  Vandal shrank into the back wall of his cage just in time. Ribbons of fire slashed through the bars which clanged to the floor in several smoldering pieces.

  The slave traders froze, deep in shock. You shouldn’t forget that they worshipped the Founders. As they had no idea of nanite control, they viewed everything that was happening as a miracle, intimidating and awesome.

  Liori materialized amid the ruins of the warehouse atop the lime-powdered heaps of loot. Several micro nuclear battery clips rose into the air, only to be immediately slashed by yet more fiery threads.

  Vandal was already out. Time for me to leave my little hidey hole, too. I shouldered the lockless door open.

  A well-equipped slaver leapt out, blocking my way. Apparently, he wasn’t as religious as the others: I ducked his burst of fire just in time and attacked him with my nanites.

  System Failure! The squat cargonite-clad Dargian lost his balance and collapsed, his servodrives paralyzed, his weapons dead.

  I activated Object Replication and felt the warm ribbed handle of the Plasma Lash in my hand. In one merciless swing I slashed through his armor, sending the slaver to his respawn point, then looked around myself.

  Foggs had already escaped from his cage and gotten hold of the nearest Dargian, using him as a shield. A hail of bullets peppered the body, splattering green blood everywhere.

  A squadron of combat drones was heading for us from the direction of the bombed-out defense point. The mechanics busy restoring it must have heard the explosions and hurried over. They couldn’t use the collapsed tunnel that connected the site to the slavers’ camp so they had to take a detour around the cliffs. I could see their squat figures amid the smoke trailing over the ground.

  Liori and I attacked simultaneously.

  I hit the drones with Critical Failure. Two of them lost control and careened into the cliffs in balls of fire. The third was still hovering overhead, spinning round until Liori sliced through it with her Plasma Lash.

  The slave traders wavered. As I’d said, the Founders cult was extremely strong among them; even their science was a mixture of knowledge and mysticism.

  The sight of the ephemeral nanite-replicated girl, shadowy but lethal, plunged them into Deadly Terror — a mass debuff! I’d never seen anything like it in Phantom Server before. Instead of putting up desperate resistance as I’d expected, the Dargians lost it and scattered in all directions. Some of them headed for the boiled-out lake but most hurried toward the fragment of the ancient space station.

  * * *

  I caught my breath and contacted Novitsky. “What’s going on over there?”

  “The Dargians have all left! They’re running for the camp! Zander, what’s going on? My status has updated!”

  “You mean you’re not a Prisoner anymore?”

  “No! Only I can’t remove these shackles.”

  “I’m gonna send someone over to you in a minute.”

  Vandal walked over to me, lugging a full gear kit. He handed it to me while glaring sideways at the space station fragment that had crashed here eons ago, molten into the cliffs.

  “That’s where the slavers have gone. Will we have to smoke them out?”

  A cloud of nanites whirled up next to me, materializing as Liori.

  Vandal eyed her with wary admiration, reluctant to ask who she was or where the hell she’d come from.

  Foggs was breaking the locks on the remaining cages, sending the freed prisoners toward the heaped-up gear.

  “Think I’m gonna give him a hand,” Vandal didn’t ask anything. He probably thought I’d tell him myself when the time was right.

  “Are they afraid of me?” Liori made her nanites even denser to help me gear up. Now she looked perfectly real.

  “They’ll get used to it.”

  “Cool battle, eh?” she forced a smile, trying to behave nonchalantly. Still, I could see that the uncertainty was getting to her.

  She glanced at my Physical Energy indicator. “You can’t support two neuromatrices for very long,” she said softly. “I’m killing you. You’ll have to make up your mind, I’m afraid.”

  “I think my Physical Energy has stabilized. You and I, we’re a great team.”

  “Don’t kid yourself,” nanite tears glistened in her eyes. “You keep leveling up. Very soon my abilities will cease being unique for you. You won’t need me,” now she spoke like a gamer.

  “We’ll find a solution, I promise. But your independence isn’t it,” I said firmly. “We need to get out of here and return to the ship. Until then, let’s just not talk about this anymore, okay?”

  “Okay,” she pulled herself together. “What can I do now?”

  “Do you think you could study the Dargian defense point?”

  “Absolutely. It’s within my range.”

  “I’d like you to scan it for me and liberate Novitsky and the others. Once you save the scanner files, I want you to dismantle the crystal.

  “I love you,” Liori whispered.

  She dissolved into a cloud of nanites and disappeared in the dark.

  * * *

  Foggs walked over to me. “I’ve made a new group,” he pointed at the prisoners.

  Goaded by Vandal, these ‘colonial troopers’ had already picked up their weapons and gear. Still, they were admittedly a sorry sight.

  “You don’t mind, do you?” Foggs asked, albeit after the fact. “We can’t leave them here, surely!”

  “Any experienced players?”

  “A few. With these authenticity levels everybody’s in shock, as you can well imagine. You know what I think? We need to mop up this thing,” he pointed at the crashed station fragment, “and hold it until help arrives. What if I give these guys a chance to feel human again? Can we kick the slavers out of there?”

  I double-checked the liberated crowd. There must have been about a hundred of them. “Very well. You take command.”

  “And you? Aren’t you coming?”

  “I have an urgent business to attend to.”

  Foggs gave me a calm nod. Those traits of his character which I could have only guessed at before had manifested themselves quickly and unambiguously now. He was composed, confident and curt. He must have been a raid or even a clan leader.

  “I’m off, then?” he asked.

  “Good. Do it, man.”

  Somewhere along the road, we’d all become consumed by real emotions. We’d left behind the beautiful virtual worlds, safe and non-committal, where our feelings smoldered without either expiring nor bursting into flames.

  * * *

  Once they'd left me alone, I didn’t waste my time. I checked t
he gutted camp in search of a suitable position and set up a few scanners that would warn me in case of any approaching danger. Then I sat on an upended crate, leaned my back against the cliff and closed my eyes.

  The model of the mysterious artifact unfolded before me, based on the files Liori had forwarded me.

  I needed to know what was going on. Why did our every step in Phantom Server trigger mortal dangers with irreversible effects?

  What was it that Liori had found out before she’d taken the plunge and gone digital? I still had no idea how she’d managed to imprint her identity matrix into a gaming object which was nothing more than a binary code?

  The model looked rather ungainly: three rings nesting within each other. They were interlinked and covered with a complex pattern of pictograms. My semantic processor had already commenced the translation process but it was going to take some time. Those in the Founders’ language were familiar to me but some apparently belonged to a different database and resisted decoding.

  Still, if Liori had worked it out, I could do so too.

  I focused on the symbols. They looked familiar. I’d definitely seen them somewhere before, but where?

  On the Founders’ ship? – Nope. Their cockpit had been rebuilt by the Dargians. All the signs there had been easy to understand.

  My eye lingered on one of the pictograms which was repeated, with slight variations, on all three rings.

  I could almost bet it meant Network.

  Why wasn’t my semantic processor replying?

  I focused on the outer ring. Its twelve segments were marked with a pictogram each. I found another familiar symbol. I was sure this was the so-called textoglyph: the hot key triggering a certain command sequence.

  It means 'Test', a thought arrived from my subconscious.

  How did I know that?

  The answer came with a sudden flash of memory. I could see myself back in the Haash’ fighter ship. That’s right! That’s where I’d seen them! When Charon and I had customized the ship, he’d explained to me the meaning of every symbol.