Redemption : A LitRPG Space Adventure (The Last Enclave Book 2)

by Morgan Cole

  My parka had protected me from the knife one of the thugs had tried to plunge into my back. If you're going to use Union tech to make a new parka, why would you make it vulnerable to knives? I certainly didn't. This material would even stop most bullets.

  I put the truck in gear and drove out of the parking lot, making sure not to run over any of the unconscious thugs. With luck, we'd be gassed up and out of town before they woke up. Since they'd tried to rob us, I could only hope they wouldn't be too keen on setting the cops on us.

  We left Carly's behind and got back on the highway, the roar of the truck's engine almost covering Marty's slight whimpering

  Chapter Seventeen: North Saskatchewan Here we Come

  WE LEFT LA RONGE BEHIND without any further trouble. Another massive truck stop filled our truck's tank with gasoline. The station attendant wasn't entirely sure if the gas stations up north were going to be open when we rolled through, or if they were even going to be open at all. In a fit of paranoia, I bought ten five-gallon red plastic jerry cans and strapped them all down in the bed of the truck after I filled them up.

  For a couple of hours, every Royal Canadian Mounted Police cruiser we passed on the highway gave me a spike of fear. What would I do if they had the description of our truck? Or our plates? We didn't have an alternate set we could use. If they pulled us over, I couldn't let them arrest me.

  Marty wasn't doing well. He tried to sleep, but the roads were rough up here, and every time we went over a bump he was in pain.

  "Jake, you sure you can't just use your Nanites to fix this?" he asked after we'd been on the road an hour or so.

  "One hundred percent. Sorry, Marty. I don't get any kind of prompt to fix you. I could probably salvage you, but that wouldn't be too helpful. If I had a Manufactory I could whip up something to fix you, I think, but I don't have anything like that."

  "Yeah, I get it."

  "If you want, I can turn around and drop you at that hospital we saw in La Ronge."

  "No, let's keep going. I don't think they can do anything for cracked ribs, anyway."

  I really hoped there was a Manufactory or something else I could use at Grandpa's outpost to fix up Marty. Even just an Induction kit would be enough. At the first level of Transcendent Flesh, his body would fix those injuries for him.

  Marty finally fell asleep, leaving me to my thoughts and the road. It was empty and quiet up here in Northern Saskatchewan. The road was surrounded by trees, with occasional breaks for a lake, or a small group of houses.

  The sun began to set just before 5 pm, and soon it was dark.

  Marty woke up, smacking his lips and groaning. "Are we there yet?"

  I unlocked my phone and passed it to him. My phone's Map app showed us on the lonely highway. Farther north in the midst of unbroken green was the map pin we were headed toward. Grandpa's outpost was getting closer. Soon we'd be at the point where we'd need to stop and hike into the woods.

  Marty grunted and handed the phone back.

  "Listen, Marty, I know you're hurting. If you want you can wait in the truck while I go find the outpost. I'll come back with something to fix you up."

  "What? Fuck no, Jake. Yeah, it hurts. But there's no damn way I'm waiting in the truck while you explore the alien base. Besides, what if you need some backup?"

  I couldn't fault his passion.

  "Alright, you're a big boy. We'll go together."

  At the side of the highway, the sign I'd been waiting for showed itself. Morell Lake Campground. It was the closest piece of "civilization" where we could stop before walking to the outpost. Of course, it was totally closed. What kind of crazy person goes camping in Northern Saskatchewan in the dead of winter?

  I pulled off the highway into the campground's entrance. The truck crunched through the heaped up, dirty snow and onto the road behind it. I could only tell where the entrance road was by the fact that the ditch was on either side, and the snow level was slightly lower.

  With great care, I maneuvered the truck behind a stand of trees into what I thought was probably the campground's parking lot. With snow blanketing everything, including the signs, it was impossible to tell. Where we were, people passing by on the highway wouldn't be able to see the truck. That was just the way I wanted it. I didn't want to be answering any questions from curious cops about why we were here.

  I put the truck in park and turned off the lights, but left the engine running. There was still a decent amount of fuel in the tank, and we had fifty more gallons in the bed. Marty would need the heater to be running, even if I didn't. It was twenty-two degrees below zero out there.

  "Now we wait for sunrise," I said.

  Marty nodded silently, and chewed slowly on a piece of chocolate he'd fished out of the bag of sweets between us.

  "Marty, let me ask you something. Why are you here?"

  "Huh? What do you mean?"

  "Don't get me wrong, man. I'm glad you are. It's nice to have company. And I'm not sure I would have made it over the border without you introducing me to Theo. But seriously, why are you helping me?"

  "That's a really dumb question. Aren't you supposed to be super smart with all your upgrades?"

  "Well, yeah, I guess."

  "Then you should know. It's obvious. You show up, and you're living evidence that we're not alone. Not only that, we've got to get our shit together as a species and fight off an invasion. I'm being totally serious here when I say that I don't know many people that wouldn't want to be involved. Hell, even my uncle would help us, I think. He's a bit of a stickler for the law, chain of command, and all that, but if you explained everything to him and showed him proof? He'd help. I'd bet my ass on it."

  "We'll need his help," I said. "We'll need everybody. Theo was right, we're going to have to tell the world."

  "Hell yeah. There's a ton of good science fiction about this. It's the best thing that could have happened to us Earthlings."

  "What? Being invaded by the things that wiped out almost all of the rest of galactic civilization is a good thing? What have you been smoking, Marty?"

  "No, seriously. If there's anything that's going to get us to unite, it's an outside threat. It's not going to be the United States and NATO or whatever against the aliens, it's going to be Humanity against the aliens. Haven't you read Watchmen?"

  "No. I get it. You might be right. Humanity, though, about that..."

  "What?"

  I grinned as I repeated to him what Metra had told me about our species. We were just one of many variants of bipedal apes. Earth wasn't the birthplace of the Humans, not even close. We were yet another Humanity-branch species.

  "Wait, that means... space babes."

  "What?"

  "You know, like Star Trek. Kirk was always banging a new hottie every week. Sometimes they'd be green or they'd have bumps on their forehead or whatever, but space babes."

  "The bumps were next-gen," I said.

  "Hah! I knew you had some nerd in you, Jake. What's Metra like?"

  Marty's enthusiasm dimmed a bit when I gave him an accurate description of Metra.

  "Okay, so Metra's not one of the space babes. But they've got to exist. Can we ask Brick? He's the station computer, right? Doesn't he know everything?"

  I knew from experience that Brick didn't have a lot of information about the surviving species in the Union. I'd gotten more information from the general overview Metra had given me than from Brick.

  "He's not that kind of computer. He's a station administrator, and it's not like there's a galactic Internet or something. At least, I don't think there is. Maybe there was before the gate nodes went down, but there isn't one now."

  "Damn," Marty said.

  "Tell you what, once you get Inducted you can bug Brick or Metra about it. Hopefully, that will be tomorrow."

  "I am happy to answer now, Jake," Brick said, his voice tinny and muffled coming from my phone's speaker.

  "Damn, Brick, have you been listening all this time?" I asked, pull
ing the phone out of my pocket.

  "You gave me permission to access the device hosting the microgate, and the connection has remained open on station power. This device's microphone is quite sensitive."

  "That's because it doubles as a listening device for the spy agencies," Marty said.

  I knew that was true, since I had removed all of the software and firmware that used to do that from mine.

  "Fine. Brick, can you answer Marty's questions?"

  "Certainly. What would you like to know about space babes, Marty?" Brick asked, his tone deadpan.

  I laughed, surprised. If that had been the old Brick, the one I'd met when I'd first stumbled through the gate, it would have been a straight question. Now I was—mostly—sure he was joking.

  Marty didn't seem to get the joke, and looked at me strangely.

  "Hi, Brick. What can you tell me about the other branches of Humanity? Are we all biologically compatible?"

  "For the most part. They generally share a common DNA base with you and Jake, with some minor modifications. Or in the case of species like the Horgrim, major ones. It is, however, unclear that any of the other branches have survived."

  "That would be a real bummer, if we were the last branch of Humanity left."

  "If the Union has fallen, then Earth is doomed. It would be more than a bummer, Marty," Brick replied.

  "For sure. I was more mourning the loss of all the space babes," Marty replied.

  "What are you guys talking about?" Metra said, her voice blaring out of the phone's speaker.

  "Hey Metra, good to hear your voice," I jumped in. "We were talking about space babes. Don't ask. What's going on?"

  "I just finished my latest design cycle and came up for air. Brick told me you guys were talking and patched me in."

  "Great timing, Brick," I said.

  "You're quite welcome, Jake."

  "Anyway, how's the ship design coming?"

  "Completed, finally. Since we don't have the resources to bring one of the larger Manufactories or the Shipyard back online, I'm doing a large scale version of what you did with that ridiculous contraption you built. What did you call it, again?"

  "The Batteries Not Included," I supplied. "You never forget your first ship."

  "You couldn't possibly call that a ship. Anyway, it's taken far longer than I like, but I've designed and queued up every one of the ship's components. As they're completed, Brick's bots are pulling them out of the Manufactor and taking them to the hangar for final assembly."

  "I don't get it," Marty said, looking at me and back to the phone. "You're making a ship out of parts? Shouldn't you be using robots to build it in space, or whatever?"

  "In better times we'd be doing just that, or something similar. All we've got is this Light Manufactory, though. Every part has to fit in the cubic meter space. It's making everything a huge pain in my balls."

  "Uh, Metra, that idiom doesn't really work for you," I said.

  "You say that all the time. Whatever. Your language is stupid."

  "How long until the ship is done?" I asked, happy to change the subject.

  "Five more days of part manufacture, and then I estimate seventeen hours of assembly time. After that, I'll need to test everything. Let's say seven days."

  "Wow, a week to build a spaceship?" Marty exclaimed.

  "We could have built this in a day with the proper tools," Metra complained.

  "And we don't have them, Metra. You're brilliant, to make this work."

  There was silence on the phone for a moment. "Thank you."

  "What kind of spaceship are you building, Metra?" Marty asked.

  "Just about the most basic runabout I can come up with. It's got room for me, my drones, and a bit of cargo. It'll get me to the satellite stations and maybe that transport ship Brick offlined if it's still there."

  I used the lever on my seat to lean back a bit, feeling comfy in the warmth of the truck. Now that I wasn't driving and we were safe for the moment, I was feeling relaxed.

  "Has it got any weapons? Like phasers or something?" Marty asked.

  "Phasers? What are those?"

  I missed the rest of the conversation as my brain shut down and sleep claimed me.

  Chapter Eighteen: Into the Wilderness

  MY EYES OPENED A MOMENT later, the sound of Marty's light snoring filling the cab. The truck was still running, down to 1/8th of a tank. The eastern sky was just lightening as the winter sun thought about rising.

  My phone was on the dash in front of me. I picked it up and checked the time—8:31 am. I had slept much longer than I thought I would. I guess nearly a week of no sleep plus getting brained with a bat takes it out of a guy.

  I shook Marty's shoulder gently. "Marty, it's time for us to get going."

  He started awake, wincing as he held his side. "I'm awake."

  "The sun's about to rise, get yourself ready if you're coming with me."

  "Damn right I'm coming with you," he said and rubbed his face.

  I turned off the truck and stepped outside, closing the door behind me. We'd be leaving the truck here for who knows how long. It didn't feel right to leave all the gasoline in the bed. I unstrapped a line of jerry cans and extracted the first one.

  Five cans later, the truck was full. I unfolded a blue tarp and covered the gas cans. If someone was nosing around the truck, that wouldn't stop them from seeing the gasoline, but it felt better than doing nothing. With luck, the truck would be undisturbed while we were gone.

  Marty stepped out of the truck wearing the cold-weather gear we'd purchased from Theo. It was military surplus, but looked quite warm. He had heavy gloves and a thick parka with a hood. He pulled a khaki backpack out of the back seat and strapped it on.

  "Hey, Jake, I know you've got the pistol and the needler, but aren't there a lot of bears up here?" he asked.

  I hadn't actually thought about it. I had to assume there were; they were everywhere. Were we far enough north to see polar bears? I didn't think so.

  "Yeah, I guess there will be," I replied. Bears didn't seem like a real threat compared to Cutter Drones and the other Feral horrors I'd cleared out of the station. The GN-75 would make short work of any animal stupid enough to attack us.

  "Can I have one of the guns, then?"

  I pulled the holster free of my belt and then pulled the pistol free and held it up.

  "You know how to use this, right? It's basically a Glock."

  "Yeah, I've shot my uncle's."

  "Great," I said, and handed him the pistol. He partially racked the slide, and when he saw the chamber was empty he nodded and released it. He dropped the magazine and checked that it was full before replacing it.

  "Can I have the holster, too?"

  "Sorry, man, won't work for you. No Interface."

  "That's getting really annoying. Fine," Marty said, and found a pocket big enough to slide the gun into in his parka.

  I pulled my bags out of the back of the truck one by one and strapped them on, trying to get them positioned so they wouldn't be in my way if I needed to climb or fight. I put Excalibur back on my belt and stuck the GN-75 to my chest. Marty accepted the two extra magazines for the Glock from my bag and stowed them.

  I reached into my tool bag and pulled free a knife in a faux leather sheath. While it looked like a simple hunting knife with a nine-inch blade, I'd really made it as a tool. The blade had a sharp edge, but I'd also embedded Voidcutter components. When I activated it, the knife would cut through most things like they were thin air. I stuck that to my belt on the left side.

  "Alright, I'm ready to go. Onward!" I said.

  Marty waved me in front of him. "You've got the GPS."

  "So I do," I said and pulled the phone out. The GPS app's compass pointed me in the right direction and we tromped away from the truck and into the wild.

  The snow made odd squeaking and crunching noises under our boots. In the pre-dawn light our breath was easily visible, a thick fog. Ice crystals began t
o crust on my eyelashes and nostrils almost immediately. I'd seen weather this cold farther south before, but I'd always had the sense to stay indoors when it was happening.

  "Goddamn it's cold," Marty said.

  "Yeah, let's keep moving. Our body heat will help," I said.

  Just past the campground's cleared area, the brush was thick, a leafless maze of relatively young trees. We pushed through in the general direction of Grandpa's outpost, trying to keep out of the thickest underbrush.

  We made slow but steady progress for several hours, the sun rising above us but failing to add any warmth. The phone was tracking our march toward the GPS coordinates, but the distance was closing slowly.

  Marty was lagging behind. I had to stop more than a few times to let him catch up. He was limping and favoring his left side, his cracked ribs paining him.

  "You sure you're up for this, Marty?" I asked.

  "I'm not waiting in the fucking truck," he said through gritted teeth.

  "Alright, let's go then."

  At around noon we stopped and had a break in a clearing. Marty sat on a fallen tree and ate something out of a foil packet. It was steaming hot and what I could smell was vaguely similar to the chili and beans that the label promised.

  "Thank God for self-heating MREs," Marty said, swallowing another spoonful of brown slop.

  The heat had come from a chemical reaction in a bag. It was called a flameless ration heater. Just add water and you get enough heat to make even an MRE packet of chili and beans edible. Marty had tucked the bag into his parka after it had finished heating his meal, and he looked a lot happier for it.

  The trees around us were getting bigger and older the farther we went from the highway. Birds chirped in the treetops and occasionally we'd hear something larger moving through the brush, but there were no signs of human existence. No vehicle noise, no airplanes overhead, no people talking on their phones. I found it quite relaxing.

  Marty finished his meal and squeezed the last bits of juice out of the foil packet before folding it up and sticking the trash into a pocket of his pack. He hesitated and then with a wince shouldered the pack and clicked the sternum strap closed.