A Check for a Billion

by Vasily Mahanenko

  “Eunice?” I called my wife. It came out a bit piteously, because at that moment I was carelessly slammed against a comms box.

  “What?” My wife replied instantly. I cursed mentally. I need to let her know that I’ve been detained in some gentle manner. She shouldn’t get agitated after all!

  “How are you doing?”

  “Fine. Just sitting here,” replied Eunice a bit puzzled and fell silent in expectation.

  “Then I will keep you company.”

  “Where?”

  “In the brig…”

  “Where?!” came an indignant cry, but I did not have time to answer. The guard dragging me had reached the brig. He tossed me inside and locked the door. A squealing erupted in my ears and the earpiece grew incredibly hot. Swearing, I pulled out the overheated comm unit and threw it away. It instantly smoked and melted with a quiet hiss, leaving behind a barely noticeable stain on the floor. I guess electronics don’t work inside the brig. A sad discovery, but if things get really bad I can always fall back on Lumara’s present. Figuring that I would be able to use the gadget only once in the cell, I decided to save it for an emergency. And this wasn’t yet an emergency. The important thing was that I’d gotten a warning off to Eunice.

  A few minutes of compulsory idleness went by and then the ship shook noticeably, at which point the lights in the brig went out. Hoping that maybe the signal jammer had gone out with the lights, I tried to use another standard comm. Nothing doing. The device met the same fate as its fellow, melting on the floor. I groped in the darkness until I reached the iron bed and lay down. If you have no control over the situation, the best thing to do is relax and wait.

  From the other side of the door came the sounds of quick footsteps, curses, and shouting. Without Brainiac’s live interpretation, I had no idea what was going on. Suddenly, a siren howled. I was surprised that there was even such an alarm on board such a luxury cruiser. A captain in charge of such important passengers should be afraid of even breathing loudly, much less sounding an alarm. The screeching howl lasted only a couple of minutes, after which it broke off just as abruptly as it began. The silence that ensued was even scarier however. I sat up in my bed and listened intently — no running, no screaming. Suddenly, the front door swung open, and two locals appeared in the doorway. The pauldrons of their armor suits had human skulls painted on them in neon paint. Well, at last we meet. These were the official and scariest pirates of Galactogon — the Brotherhood of the Jolly Roger, headed by the legendary Corsican himself.

  “Welly, welly, welly, well…what have we here then?” lisped one of the newcomers. “A scallywag in Precian captivity? And this small fry calls himself a pirate? Ugh. What a repellant sight.”

  “Well then stop gawking and take him to the captain!” replied the second pirate. “He will figure it out! Let’s go, darling! You’re free!”

  A pair of familiar manipulators appeared in their hands, and I was dragged out and made to count the corners again. The pirates proved to be some pranksters. They were too bored to keep me in front of them so they bounced me down the corridor in a zigzag fashion, passing me from one manipulator to the other like a Ping-Pong ball. They weren’t very good and so sometimes one’d miss and I’d go flying past the catcher’s beam into the wall with a loud thunk. Stars danced around my head and the system kept announcing new debuffs. This bit of exercise had a beneficial effect on my brain and as a result, I understood two things. First, the Corsican will not talk to me as he would have no need of a weak pirate. Second, I absolutely cannot tolerate this kind of treatment. As the pirates were talking to each other, arguing over how long I would last as a Ping-Pong ball, two small grenades appeared in my hands. The locals kept me at a distance from themselves, but not far enough. Three meters was all that separated us, so I pulled the pins and tossed the EM grenades. The pirates turned into iron idols, immured in their legendary armor suits, like in coffins. I got to my feet, calmed myself down and pulled my blaster out of my inventory.

  “I hope you boys are on good terms with your planetary spirit,” I muttered and fired a shot into each one’s head. Two shimmering crates fell to the floor, but I was much more interested in the notification that accompanied this:

  Your rapport with the Corsican has grown. Current Rapport: 2.

  One point of Rapport for each dead pirate? Why this changes matters! A blood-thirsty smirk spread across my face as I activated my comm.

  “Brainiac, are you here?”

  “The cruiser has been captured. The pirates destroyed all the Precian destroyers,” reported my ship computer. “You’ll have to sort it out without me Cap’n! I’ll wait for you here.”

  “Don’t panic. Are you in the system?”

  “Yes, but they haven’t found us yet.”

  “How many ‘guests’ are there on board the cruiser and where can I find them?” I asked the most pressing question. Much depended on it. If the cruiser’s surveillance system couldn’t track the pirates, I’d be helpless.

  “There are forty-three…no, forty-one pirates on board. Two have vanished somewhere.”

  “Not somewhere, but to the digital underworld,” I grunted, delighted with the news. “Mark all the pirates’ locations on my HUD and make sure to keep me updated about their movements. By the way, what are they doing here?”

  “Judging by the comm chatter, they are looking for someone named Oleander.”

  “They can’t have him!” barked Eunice. “He is my trophy. I dragged him here all by myself!”

  “And right you did. Brainiac, has the hull taken any critical damage?”

  “Yes, the cruiser has lost its integrity in several places. All the damaged compartments have been sealed.”

  “Seal any compartments that lead to Nurse and set their status as ‘depressurized.’ We don’t need any uninvited guests.”

  “Done. Oh…”

  Brainiac disconnected. A second passed, then another second and a third — and still there was nothing from my ship.

  “What happened?” I called on my PDA.

  “They found us,” came Brainiac’s displeased reply. “The locked on and jammed my comms. You’re on your own, Captain. I’ll wait for further orders but if you die…We will head back to Blood Island.”

  After calling Eunice to apprise her of the situation, I pulled out my armor suit. Deprived of elo, it resembled the fossil of an ancient monster that had mysteriously appeared on a space ship. The EM shock blew its powercells beyond recovery, so I simply dumped them where I stood. The replacement powercells snapped into place and the armor suit came to life, winking at me with its initialization sequence. Its servos whirred, recovering stability and with it its upright position. My other body had assumed its customary place and was ready for use again. I’ll have to prod Hansa to fix this emergency ejection mechanism. Surely they have something that will solve the problem.

  I turned my attention to the pirates’ locations in my HUD. About twenty of them were located not far from me, on the captain’s bridge. It occurred to me that perhaps I can encounter the Corsican himself there. After all, who knows? Just in case, I decided to head there last. There were four more enemies on the deck below me. They’re the ones I should start with. But before that, let’s check this loot.

  Killing pirates from the Brotherhood of the Jolly Roger turned out to be a profitable business. Not only did I find a legendary blaster in each box, but they came with a full set of equipment, that included everything from comfortable shoes for sneaking to a tactical vest and helmet made of raq. A perfect outfit for an operation that required not only armor, but also agility and stealth. And yet, surprisingly, this was not the main piece of loot. Both pirates also dropped a small black metal token with the emblem of the Jolly Roger. Proof that I had destroyed the enemies of all empires.

  I immediately put on the new equipment, saving the second set for Eunice. An armor suit doesn’t solve all your problems and it’s nice to have a backup option.

  T
he elevator did not work, so I moved toward the stairs. Since I had plenty of elo, I decided to fly instead of clanking about. Here they are, the advantages of ground marine armor over space armor. There is no room inside the ships for air maneuvers, and as a result many players and NPCs prefer to dispense with thrusters and equip their suits with some other, more necessary device. The snake had complained several times that she had no space to install the newer systems she had developed, but I remained implacable. The thrusters were my main ‘competitive’ advantage — no one would hear the stomping of my huge marine armor if it just flew. The pirates didn’t hear me either.

  I flew up to the second deck fully armed. The blasters on my shoulders were locked and ready, the EM gun in my right hand was aimed and ready to disable any resistance, and in my left hand, just in case, I carried a grenade. Who knows, after all? Finding some cover behind a bulkhead, I paused to assess the situation.

  The pirates of the Jolly Roger worked cohesively, clearly understanding each of their tasks. Two of them were going from cabin to the cabin, flushing the Precians out into the corridor where they’d be searched and robbed. Another pair was busy identifying high-born hostages and corralling them for transportation to the pirates’ ship. They didn’t stand on ceremony with anyone — at gunpoint, the hostages were collared and chained to the collar of the next hostage in line. The hostages were forced to lean the back of their heads against each other, but prudently kept quiet, fearing for their lives.

  I waited for the first pair to enter the next cabin. Then I aimed and fired. And aimed again and fired. Two more pirates turned into loot crates. Nobody expected me and their carelessness came at an immediate price.

  “What’s going on out there? Is someone resisting?” Hearing the shots from my blaster, a third pirate popped his head out of the cabin.

  I aimed and the total was now five pirates.

  Your rapport with the Corsican has grown. Current Rapport: 5.

  From here on, hiding didn’t make much sense. I flew out of cover and approached the hostages. My appearance was like a trigger. Panic swept across the Precians. Not knowing what to expect from this new menace, they rushed in the opposite direction from me. The danger now was that someone would stumble and fall. Then the collars would work like nooses and strangle the lot of them.

  “Freeze right there!” I hollered at the Precian nobility and fired at the floor. The Precians calmed down and froze. Several Precians fainted from fright, but their neighbors instantly grabbed them, keeping them from falling and pulling the rest down.

  This gave me a chance to take a breath and turn my attention to the open cabin door. The fourth pirate did not hurry to emerge. Most likely, he was smarter than his partner and realizing that something was amiss, had taken up a defensive position. On top of this, he’d probably also warned the others that things had gone bad, so I’d better get out of here quickly.

  Three more sets of clothes, blasters and Jolly Roger tokens went into my inventory, and I began to slowly move to the other side of the open door.

  Reaching the stairs, I flew back up to the first deck. I did not manage to reach it unhindered. As soon as I flew up to the landing in front of the door, the door opened revealing three pirates rushing to reinforce their dead mates. I didn’t even have to aim — a point-blank shot from my EM gun cut short the brave warriors and they noisily collapsed into a heap. No defense could save them — they were too close and too unprepared. The blaster cannons on my shoulders came alive and my rapport with the Corsican grew by another three points.

  Somewhere above, I heard heavy stomping. I grinned as I left the landing. Let them look. Some time should pass before they figure out what’s going on. The door closed silently and I flew farther along the ship. The pirates had finished their work in this part of the cruiser — all the cabins had been turned inside out and anything of value had been plundered.

  It was unfortunate, but there was no loot left to be had on the first deck. All the nobles lived on the third deck, and here, if there were items of artistic value, then the pirates either took them away or destroyed them. Several paintings had been mercilessly charred by blaster fire. Judging by their remains, the Brotherhood did not have a liking for postmodern art.

  The elevator still did not work, yet I didn’t want to go back to the stairs either. Opening the elevator’s doors, I jumped into the shaft and descended down to the engineering deck. Before he’d been forced offline, Brainiac had identified a dozen targets down there, which would be invaluable to increasing my rapport with the big boss. I didn’t manage to exit the shaft silently and soon heard quick steps approaching. There was nowhere to hide in the empty compartment, so I flew up to the ceiling, settling like a spider among the lattice of pipes and conduits.

  Six pirates appeared from around the corner. Five of them rushed to the elevator, while one remained as a sentry. It was immediately obvious that he was their commander. The soldiers opened the doors and carefully illuminated the shaft.

  “What’s happened?” asked the one left behind. Now I was sure that he was the squad leader.

  “It’s empty!”

  “Search the premises! Arcana reported that he descended to this deck! Find him! There will be a five percent loot bonus to the one who brings me this freak!”

  Inspired by the bounty, one of the pirates climbed into the shaft in the hope of finding the sinister foe. I had no doubts about whom they were looking for. If Brainiac could hack the cruiser’s mainframe and force it to display the locations of everyone onboard, then the pirates could do the same. I just hoped there weren’t any cameras on the engineering deck. Otherwise, all my careful sneaking would go to hell.

  Three EM grenades clicked quietly in my hands. One went flying at the commander, the other two at the group crowded around the shaft. The explosions came almost simultaneously. Deactivating the magnets holding me to the ceiling, I glided and aimed my blasters at the pirate caught between the elevator doors. The EM blast had caught him partially, immobilizing the upper part of his armor suit. I killed him first so that he couldn’t report back to the bridge.

  Your rapport with the Corsican has grown. Current Rapport: 14.

  The corsairs hadn’t dropped anything interesting or unique, yet the commander made up for it. In addition to the usual set of equipment and blaster, he also had seven torpedo detonators. I have no idea why he brought them to the ship, but the sabotage plan lent itself of its own accord. Among all the other systems housed on the engineering deck, there was the torpedo assembly system. I doubt the Precians allowed the pirates to board without a fight, so surely the cruiser had fired several torpedoes at the enemy.

  And I was not mistaken — ten deadly missiles lay right there on the floor. The Precians had not had time to deliver them to the conveyor that led to the launch tubes. The corsairs’ appearance had put an end to the operation.

  I inserted the seven detonators and the torpedoes entered their setup mode. With Brainiac’s guidance, telling where to find the buttons I needed to push, I set the timers to twenty minutes, after which I dragged my makeshift bombs to various parts of the engineering deck to maximize their destructive potential. After a little thought, I also smashed the deck’s comm unit. Now no one would be able to reprogram the torpedoes. However, just as I was putting the last torpedo in its place, I heard an unexpected invitation over the speakerphone:

  “Surgeon, this is the Corsican! I am waiting for you on the bridge. You have five minutes, the clock is ticking.”

  The voice coming over the speaker was so unpleasant and strange that my face contorted. I had imagined the Corsican as brutal and fearless, his voice full of imperiousness — not at all the voice I had just heard.

  “Don’t go Lex. It’s a trap!” Eunice instantly warned me. The pirates hadn’t found her yet, which was definitely good news.

  “I know, I know,” I replied. “But this is one of those invitations you can’t ignore.”

  Figuring that my fourteen poi
nts of rapport was enough to ensure that they wouldn’t try to kill me immediately, I cautiously moved towards the elevator. The chance to see this legendary NPC in the flesh was just too tantalizing to pass up. There were no new pirates to deal with. It was as if the Corsican had ordered them to stand down. Reaching the elevator shaft, I flew up to the third deck and jerked the doors apart. Again, I encountered no resistance or aggression — the corridor welcomed me with a hospitable emptiness.

  A few meters from the bridge, I climbed out of my armor suit and replaced it in my inventory. I didn’t want to deal with any unnecessary surprises. Adjusting the trophy body armor and checking its level of elo just in case, I walked resolutely to the captain’s deck. Then again, when the doors parted, the dozen blaster barrels pointed at my person did shake my resolution. An electromagnetic pulse passed through my body, frying yet another comm unit and turning my advanced armor vest into an ordinary plate of raq.