Edge of Reality (Phantom Server: Book #1)

by Andrei Livadny

  Arbido pulled my hand. "He's right."

  I glared back at him. "So do you suggest I should stay here and leave her there to die?"

  "Jurgen's right," Arbido insisted. "You're our commander. If you hack the Condor, the mercs are sure to misinterpret it. You might just as well fit them with slaves' collars. This doesn't give you the right to do whatever you want. You need to do it properly."

  "Right. Where's Ralph?"

  "He's right over there, fixing some pipes," Jurgen said. "But please, Zander, think about it. Liori must be dead, otherwise her implant wouldn't have changed its host. It transferred part of her identity to you and is now trying to nudge you into action!"

  His arguments ripped my heart apart. If anything, they forced my hand. "Liori might have given it to me of her own free will," I paused and added sharply, "Jurgen, your job is to restore the ship's systems. So that's what you should be doing. I'll be back. Don't ever doubt that."

  "Charon, you tell him!"

  The Haash cast Jurgen a grim look. "He's going," he growled. "I'm going with him, too."

  "You're both nuts!"

  I was about to explode. The memory of Liori put my mind in meltdown. Her desperate eyes full of longing for an unfulfilled life were burning though my brain.

  I turned to Charon. "You're staying with them. There isn't enough room for the two of us in the Condor's cockpit."

  "I can go in the cargo module."

  "No, you don't." The plan was ready in my mind. I was pretty sure that the respawn point I'd seen on the screen was used not only by the Dargians and the treacherous mercs, but also by those of the Haash who hadn’t received their personal markers. The Condor's cargo hold was their only chance of survival.

  I had no time to argue with him so I PM'd him some mental images. He might grasp their significance faster than words.

  Jurgen shook his head as he watched me leave.

  I found Ralph almost straight away, directed by the flashes of his plasma torch and the acrid smoke filling the corridor.

  The life support pipework, damaged during the ancient battle, now gleamed with fresh patches. I touched the man's shoulder, attracting his attention.

  "I need your ship."

  "You gonna bring it back?"

  I knew what he must have been thinking. His ship was his most treasured possession. I was pretty sure he'd maxed it out to the limit, making it truly unique, otherwise the ship would never have survived its encounter with the Emgles. A merc's Condor was a guarantee of his or her freedom — survival even. But this was the only functional one left. Besides, after our successful escape attempt the Dargians had removed all of the reactor controls from the Haash' ships and we had no idea how long it might take us to restore them.

  Without saying a word, I offered him the slim box still lined with the same spongy substance and containing all of the Founders' unexplored software I'd looted in Gehenna and whatever cyber devices I'd ripped out of the drones there.

  I threw in a dozen neurochips I'd seized during the recent fight with the Dargians. Both of us knew that the Phantom Server's economy had collapsed, but at least this kind of currency was still acceptable.

  Ralph scanned the box's contents, considered all the alternatives and gave a reluctant nod, appreciating my gesture. "Here," he handed me the code. "It's yours for the time being. I might buy it back off you if I get the chance."

  * * *

  I soon lost the Founders' starship from view. To find it among all the clusters of asteroids without knowing its exact coordinates would be totally unrealistic.

  I began an approach maneuver on the station. My pilot's instincts uploaded with the reflex enhancer had allowed me to master the Condor's controls in no time. This ship was well and truly unique. With its beefed-up engines, enlarged holds, powerful shields and a well-conceived weapon configuration, it was nothing like the standard factory-issue Condor.

  All this flashed through my focused, strung-out mind as it continued scanning the area.

  A thick group of bright dots was moving through space: the Eurasia fleet. Argus was surrounded by a shimmering cloud: there, the battle was raging, the Second Colonial Fleet's avant-garde confronting the Dargians within the station's orbit. They seemed to be losing at the time: if you maxed out the zoom you could see the station's defense systems working, preventing the attackers from launching any assault groups.

  The abandoned Founders' station seemed quiet. I scanned the frequencies, listening in on the Eurasia's conversations. All their attention was on the battle for Argus which would decide the fate of this world.

  I was too tired to look into everything that had happened in less than twenty-four hours of gaming time. My nerves were burning out. The station loomed rapidly into view. The respawn point I'd discovered earlier continued flashing its bright round marker.

  The only thing I wanted now was to snatch Liori and the remaining Haash from the never-ending circle of inhuman torture. If I could just look her in the eye and see the pain dissipate, I wouldn't want for anything else.

  I initiated the maneuver with the station. At first, the numerous hull structures seemed to blur into endless lines on the screens; then their rapid rotation slowed down, breaking them up into separate groups of ruins. I kept descending, passing through their ragged summits until the ship's docking pylons caressed the hull.

  The target respawn point was 450 feet away. It must have been located in one of the burned-out modules of the primary hull. My suit's sensors registered its signature. The navigation system busied itself plotting the route.

  I had a couple of repair robots in my inventory as well as some spare parts for the suit, batteries and life support cartridges. I got out and activated the movement coordinator in order to reach the nearest hole in the station's hull. Below it lay the opening of an ancient tunnel.

  Far ahead, I could make out some weak flashes of green light. Mechanically I quickened my pace, grateful for the individual gravity generator which allowed me to move freely.

  The flashes grew brighter and closer but I couldn't see their source yet from behind the deformed bulkheads. To add to it, the collapsed hull with its spars and depleted armor hung down overhead. Vacuum reigned here.

  I headed for the light, making my way through the destroyed rooms. Then I froze on the spot. My heart missed a beat.

  The respawn point.

  A new green flash materialized a Dargian in a decompressed suit. Immediately he dropped to the ground, his avatar fading. Two Haash followed. They managed to run a few paces more, with identical results. The vacuum and the cosmic cold left them no chance.

  New flashes kept coming. I kept the power shield at the ready.

  Liori, where the hell are you?

  Suddenly the brief succession of reincarnations stopped, submerging the crumbling deck into darkness.

  What was that now? I switched over to the sensors, my stare searching for the already-familiar icon and activating it.

  Scan the respawn point equipment.

  The deck's floor revealed the outlines of cables and pipework. As far as I knew, everything was in perfect working order.

  The movement detector pinged anxiously.

  Several figures clad in high tech suits similar to mine stepped out of the darkness. Outlaws. About twenty of them, closing in on me.

  I still could fight my way through.

  "Not so fast, Zander," the voice definitely sounded familiar. "You've got nowhere to run."

  I recognized him, of course. "Jyrd? What's up?" I turned round slowly, playing for time while trying to decide on which direction was best to fight through. "Why has the respawning stopped? Is it you controlling it?" I invested all my sarcasm and disbelief into the last phrase.

  He stepped toward me. "You can't control the Founders' machines," he answered calmly, ignoring my quip. "You can use the Founders' neuronet implants though to switch them on or off. Like when you need to attract someone's attention," he grinned.

  "You
're lying. I've just seen some Dargians and Haash resurrect here."

  'Holographic artwork," he replied nonchalantly. "Let's get to the point. I'm sorry but you've stolen my ship, man. You'll have to give it back."

  "I didn't steal it. We won it in battle."

  "The Dargians worked for me!" he snapped, losing his patience. "I was surprised, I have to admit, when you managed to fly it. I want its coordinates. Where is it?"

  They hadn't managed to trace its course, great.

  My friends were waiting for me there. There was no way I was going to hand them over to the Outlaws.

  Jyrd seemed to realize that. "If you don't tell us now, your neural AIs will," his voice was rife with menace. "You know very well what happens when someone dies without a respawn point available. Their bodies reject the artifacts. All I'll do, I'll pick them up from your dead body and absorb them."

  I threw my both arms up in the air, pointing the integrated guns at him. They didn't work. The servomotors were dead.

  "Good try," he walked over to me, fearing nothing anymore. "For future reference: I was the founder of the Technologists' Clan. I developed much of its equipment personally. Jurgen doesn't know everything," he added confidentially. "Every armored suit has a secret remote control module. Here, look."

  My helmet's visor lit up with a system message,

  Maintenance mode initiated. Time until decompression: 60 seconds.

  The message blinked and went out.

  "I have to admit, Zander, you're a bit of a dark horse. You have potential. Apparently you can fly the Founders' ship and this is a very valuable skill. Also, neural AIs have their own fragmented personalities, so to speak. They're very choosy who they work with. It's funny how your worst enemy can become a friend sometimes," he added. "But Jurgen painted us in a very bad light and you believed him, didn't you?"

  "Why, was he wrong?"

  "It all depends on your point of view. Jurgen is a wuss. He bought into this world's authenticity forgetting who he used to be. We haven't."

  "So what do you want?" I asked. "To bring the Logout button back? You want to escape? Then why would you need the ship or the artifacts? What's the point using the Founders' stuff? Go cap in hand to the Admins and see if they succumb to your pleas."

  He smirked. "Do you really think they can do it? What if you're mistaken and they're but pawns in somebody else's game? Has Liori told you anything at all about the Founders' network?"

  "Is she alive?"

  "You bet she is," he said with disdain. "Once you give me the ship's coordinates, you can have everything you want."

  "No. Sorry."

  "Whatever," he shrugged. "I might be back after the first thirty respawns or so. To give you a moment to think. Trust me, that's plenty of time to reconsider."

  He swung round and walked away. The others followed. My suit was still dead.

  I was enveloped by darkness, my heavy breathing the only sound in the cosmic silence.

  Images from the neural AIs flooded my mind, blending.

  I could see the Haash resting in life support capsules not unlike our in-mode ones.

  I could see the Phantom Server. Still, I didn't believe Jyrd. This was a game, a familiar world that followed a well-programmed set of gaming rules.

  He'd been trying to deceive and confuse me. You couldn't create a game using a real-world hyperspatial network.

  He'd been lying — trying to trick me into betraying the ship's location. As simple as that.

  Once again the visor lit up with the spiteful warning,

  Maintenance mode initiated. Time until decompression: 60 seconds.

  Jyrd knew what he was doing. The events of the last few days flashed through my mind. Both neural AIs sprang back to life.

  Time until decompression: 60 seconds

  59 seconds

  58 seconds

  57 seconds...

  End of Book One

  To be continued in Phantom Server Book #2: The Outlaw

  Annex

  The MC's stats as of the first book's end:

  Zander. Outlaw. Level 20. Pilot.

  Intellect, 7pt. (+1 bonus from the Semantic Processor)

  Strength, 7 pt.

  Willpower, 7 pt. (mind expander installation conditions met)

  Agility, 5 pt.

  Perception, 5 pt (+2 bonus from the semantic processor)

  Stamina, 5pt.

  Learning Skills, 7pt. (mind expander installation conditions met)

  Skills:

  Piloting of Small Spacecraft

  Piloting of Medium and Large Spacecraft

  Combat Maneuvering

  Repairs

  Alien Technologies

  Combat Skills

  Navigation

  Unique abilities:

  Friend of the Haash.

  +1 to all characteristics every time the character fights alongside the Haash.

  Berserk

  Whenever Zander fights unarmed with less than 5% Health, he is able to ignore the enemy's defenses, dealing only critical damage.

  The sight of him terrifies all creatures under level 20. They flee, unable to attack him.

  Robot Technician

  +10% to damage dealt to all machines.

  Implants installed:

  Semantic processor (Dargian configuration)

  Mind expander SynapsZ Universal (by Neurus Corporation)

  Reflex enhancer (a one-of-a-kind working model developed by the Technologists Clan)

  Metabolic corrector: Xenus Universal (by Xenus Corporation)

  The Founders' AI neuronet: two modules

  Quests yet to be completed:

  Phantom Server 1. The Mystery of Hyperspace

  Immortal Hardware

  Alien Mind

  Thank you for purchasing Edge of Reality (Phantom Server: Book #1)!

  In order to have new books of the series translated faster, we need your help and support! Please consider leaving a review at http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00WR7WRMS or spread the word by recommending Phantom Server to your friends and posting the link on social media. The more people buy the book, the sooner we'll be able to make new translations available. Thank you!

  About the Author

  Andrei Livadny is a popular Russian science fiction author. Born on May 27 1969 in the city of Pskov, he was an avid reader from an early age. But it was the Russian translation of Robert A. Heinlein's The Orphans of the Sky that decided his choice of future occupation. The story has become a pivotal moment in the boy's life, leaving a lasting impression on him.

  Andrei wrote his first book at the age of eight. Since then, he's never stopped working on new books. His passion for science fiction has gradually become his career.

  In 1998, Andrei debuted in Russia's leading publishing house EKSMO with his novella The Island of Hope. Since then, he has penned over 90 books that have enjoyed a total of 153 editions.

  Andrei has created several unique worlds, each unlike the previous. He wrote A History of Our Galaxy with humanity itself as a protagonist. This sixty-book series creates a history of our future civilization and its contacts with alien races, forming a convincing and logical picture of humanity's development for two millennia from now.

  Besides hard science fiction, Andrei Livadny also works in cyberpunk genres which allow him to focus on human relationships and raise questions about artificial intelligence and identity uploading, describing cyberspace as humanity's future environment.

  The English translation of A History of Our Galaxy will be available shortly. Check the author's Russian-language site for updates.

 

 

 
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