A Check for a Billion

by Vasily Mahanenko

  Looking up from my comm, I decided to dispense with the annoying timers. We had no time for procrastination. I had to draw a line under my dealings with the empires and return to the pirates’ camp. The Precians were done with, so the Delvians were next in line.

  “Brainiac set course for the Nadin system!”

  Since the Delvian heiress had not yet been crowned, the Delvians did not have an official planet. No big deal. All I needed was their temporary refuge and access to Lumara. As soon as Warlock appeared in the system, the remnants of the Delvians grew very animated. The dispatchers was in such a hurry to warn me about the planet’s restricted access, that they spoke openly over one another, turning the airwaves into a market. Held in the sights of the orbital stations and the Grand Arbiter, I flew up to the planet and broadcast on the open channel:

  “As a Devil’s Advocate, I demand a meeting with the future Empress of Delvos. I wish to receive my reward from her! Or shall the Delvians refuse me in this?”

  The airwaves went silent. I did not observe any players when I was on Nadin, and this pleased me very much. Lately all my relationships with other players haven’t been working out.

  “Orbship Warlock, you have been granted permission to land. Dock one. Follow the escort.”

  I had no doubt that Lumara would welcome me in the finest way possible. No matter what tone she takes with me, you can’t deny that it’s only thanks to me that the Delvians even have a hope of reviving their empire.

  “Her ladyship awaits you,” the head of the welcoming party bowed lowly. Seeing that Eunice was about to come with me, he hastily added: “Her ladyship is expecting Surgeon. On his own. Without any companions.”

  We didn’t bother arguing and about fifteen minutes later I was standing in a kind of makeshift throne room. The grave gaze with which the head fox fixed me boded nothing good.

  “Didn’t I warn you that you were no longer welcome in the Delvian Empire? Are you trying to end up in the mines? Or have you decided to sacrifice your orbship?!”

  “Your Grace, I remember everything, but…” I tried to mollify Lumara as best as I could, simultaneously considering how I could slip away from here whole and without losing anything.

  “And yet here you are, demanding your reward!” the future empress interrupted me roughly. “Has your sense of self-preservation failed you?”

  This is the second time today that my attempt to have a conversation goes completely wrong. Well, when you don’t know what to do next — do something outrageous! What’s there to lose?

  “No, Lumara, my sense of self-preservation is perfectly fine. It is you, your ladyship, who has forgotten that an imperial crown comes with certain responsibilities. For example, the right of people to receive their due and just rewards unhindered. That’s a right every other empire in Galactogon recognizes and respects! Are you now denying it to me on behalf of the Delvian Empire? I am sure the Precian adviser will not approve.”

  The fox scowled, but could find no answer. I was right and all her outrage was a harmless spectacle. She really couldn’t do anything to me.

  “What do you want? What reward do you want to receive from a ravaged empire? You know very well that we have nothing!”

  “You promised to give me everything that the Delvians know about the Uldans. That’s why I’m here.”

  Lumara darkened. We both remembered the conditions under which she had made the promise. I had threatened her with the utter annihilation of her empire. Eh, my sins are grave, but I could not forego such a lever of influence over Lumara either. Since she made the promise, let her fulfill it. Or…help me in some other way, at least.

  “I understand that my demand is not well-timed,” I said, “and therefore I propose we deal with it another way. I will forget about your debt and my reward if you help me.”

  “Are we talking about a cylinder with riddles?” the Delvian asked, demonstrating that she was well-informed.

  Well, the Precians sure do have a close relationship with the Delvians! Surely this is yet another point against siding with that venal empire. In the ensuing silence, I produced the cylinder from my inventory.

  “There are three riddles here. Help me solve them and we can part ways for good. I don’t care about the Delvian Empire. And if you can’t help with the solutions, then help crack this cylinder open. I need what’s inside.”

  “What is inside?” asked Lumara. Confronted with a mysterious toy, she immediately cast aside the mask of the empress and turned into the familiar nerdy tech fox she’d been when I first met her. The same one who would stick her nose into any mysterious piece of technology you placed before her.

  “The coordinates of the Zatrathi homeworld. We will be able to end this war once and for all.”

  “You must give us the cylinder!” exclaimed Lumara but cut herself short when she saw my reaction. I hastily hid the cylinder in my inventory.

  “No one will give anything to anyone until I get those coordinates. After that you can do what you like.”

  “Deal. The Delvian Empire would like to have priority among anyone wishing to buy the coordinates.”

  “Even if I remain a pirate?”

  “Especially if you remain a pirate,” Lumara said meaningfully, sending a jolt of relief through my chest. Not all the empires would stop working with me after all. Wishing to consolidate my success, I mentioned casually that I had been in a black hole and was ready to share some data. The fox’s widened eyes indicated that she was all ears — at least until my allegiance timers an out.

  Losing no time, the Delvian began to fiddle with the cylinder, connecting it to her tablet. As I expected, the empire of bipedal foxes had a lot of information about the Uldans and they were in no hurry to share any of it. Lumara ran program after program, without allowing me to get a good look at her screen for even a moment.

  “Oh! I knew that I had seen something like this before. A riddle about the minimal distance of zlapartit. Answer: zero, comma, zero two, three seven, five eight. That’s the distance required to start the process of mardirating the active inversion of the ulbrosa. Um…How could I translate this…? Well, it concerns Uldan consumer electronics. A cleaning process using zlapartit particles.”

  A strange riddle from a dark lord, but I just entered the digits Lumara had told me. It lit up green, indicating that we were one step closer.

  “I can’t speak to the other riddles.” Lumara’s hand continued fluttering over her tablet. “I need time. I do not have all the data. We have just begun collecting all the information. The loss of our capital has hurt our databases. And I do not advise you to try and crack the cylinder. That would be quite dangerous.”

  “I’ll wait.” I did not refuse such a generous offer, although I realized that there was nothing further to do here right now. The Precians and the Delvians had played their part. That left Eine and…a fourth. But who? Mercaloun had been destroyed despite the battlesphere’s attempt to tell me that I needed to see her…So who else could help me?

  Time was running out, so I said goodbye to Lumara, assuring her of my cooperation, and hurried to the next meeting. As of late, everything was going so quickly that I was even starting to get worried. I felt like if I let up even for a moment, not only would I be thrown off this merry-go-round for good, but my pursuers could catch up to and deal with us.

  Planet Barganil, where Tryd was waiting for me, was reputed to be very accommodating to anyone who cared to spend their credits on it. As long as the wallet was full, its owner remained a cherished guest. But when the money ran out — and it was inevitable that any guest’s money would eventually run out — the players were either expelled or sold to slavery. It was, briefly put, a good planet for good pirates.

  The dispatcher assigned the orbship a distant dock, tucked away from any prying eyes. The old fox, leading his band of pirates, met me right at the ramp. Tryd rapped on our hull demanding that I open the door. As soon as everyone had settled in the captain’s cabin, the Delvian b
egan to introduce us to each other.

  “This is Glyr, he is responsible for boarding ops. Badger will take care of the electronics and the alarms. You don’t need to know the rest. I will deploy with Glyr and will coordinate our movements from the field. Everyone — a word! This is the Surgeon, our temporary captain. Nurse there is his deputy, don’t pay any attention to her. She’s a soggy-sorry type of wench.”

  There was an outburst of laughter, followed by a gnashing of teeth, but Eunice remained silent through it all, inspiring my respect. Were it up to me, none of these forest critters would have ever set paw inside my orbship — but that nasty word ‘circumstances’ compelled us to endure this rude and motley company. The assault team consisted of ten muscle-bound, scarred space marines. Taciturn, somber and unnaturally calm, as if pumped full of drugs. And as a foil to them, the support team consisted of four sneaky-looking pirates. Despite their various races, they all had rat faces with shifty eyes that cast about for suitable things to steal. In the ten minutes they had been on my ship, they had already tried to get inside the prohibited areas twenty times — receiving a painful zap from the snake each time. Of course this didn’t deter them at all, but only spurred their further attempts. For his part, Tryd seemed quite at ease among these brethren.

  “Are we going fishing in the base or in the open sea?” Badger had a hoarse low voice, as if someone was rubbing Styrofoam against glass.

  “In the base.”

  The pirates began to grumble and Tryd was forced to raise his voice.

  “Quiet! Surgeon has already done this before, and he’s about to do it again.”

  The pirates stopped making noise, and Tryd turned to me.

  “You have the most important job, small fry. Inevitable is docked in the Barxes system. The alignment is not in our favor. There are three Grand Arbiters and four orbital stations stationed there. They say you can work miracles. It is time to prove it.”

  “I have friendly status with their guild,” I remembered, but Tryd only waved dismissively.

  “You’ll lose it as soon as we set foot on that cruiser. You have two hours to figure out a way to hack all the systems at once. Either you get the Lora or Aalor does.”

  Hack all the systems at once? Is that a hint?

  “Can you at least tell me anything about the security system?” I tried at random.

  “Figure it out yourself. You’re no pup. Everyone get ready! Don’t forget to congratulate Glyr — his son was born yesterday!”

  The pirates piled out of the orbship, slapping the embarrassed mercenary on the shoulders as they went. Various suspicious individuals had begun to circle our ship, their faces hidden inside their cavernous hoods. They looked around, drawing closer and closer. Not wishing to give them a chance to make their move, I released the marine, ensuring a security perimeter clear of any locals around my ship. Meanwhile my timers blinked again, indicating that I had two hours to make my decision. It didn’t make much sense to keep putting it off so I called Wit-Verr’s deputy:

  “Gloom, I accept your offer and I’m ready to join the Brotherhood. I’m on Barganil at the moment. I’ll be waiting.”

  My next move was a search request for Stan. If Tryd is hinting that the security system can be hacked, then someone’s already done it. First and foremost, I need to understand the mechanism that coordinates the Grand Arbiter and the orbital stations. It’s not like every member of Liberium has to warn everyone when he invites someone to visit.

  “I need all available information about the security systems in the Barxes system or similar ones. Even if this info costs money.”

  “Process understood. Master, what about updating the firmware for the home management system…?”

  Ever the perfectionist, Stan began complaining about his available system resources, but I ignored him as per usual. Domestic problems could wait until we returned from the clinic.

  “This won’t do,” Eunice said in frustration, reading the incoming data. The system really did have a centralized security system but it was located in the planetary command center and had tighter physical security than a cash printing machine. As hard as my smart home looked for it, there was no information about the terrestrial complex, even among the paid content.

  “I get the feeling that you have to hack each ship separately.”

  “Hold on.” I once again revised the scant information. The command center’s control tower coordinated all space and ground forces. It was located in an area closed off to players. Unless set otherwise by a scenario, the layout of a command center was standardized for all of Galactogon. Standardized. Everywhere.

  “I know how to get into the command center. I’ll go alone. Stay on the ship and deliver Tryd to the destination.”

  “Care to share what you have in mind?” As much as Eunice wanted to know what I was about to do, I couldn’t tell her anything. The locals can’t read your mind, but they could easily have slipped us some bug that could record what we were saying. Accordingly, I told Eunice only the stuff that no one could influence. And I kept the main trick to myself.

  “Cap’n, we have a request for access.” How timely did this delegation show up! Gloom did not waste time and immediately flew over to meet me. Locals like him — ones with an AI that acts like an AI — I didn’t mind working with at all. None of that initiative. As soon as a player needs something, they’re right there on the spot eager to help him out.

  You have chosen Jolly Roger 2.0 as your main faction.

  Please confirm your selection.

  A cute name and a cute dialog. The system wanted to make sure that I had make my choice while in my right mind and could understand the consequences of what I was doing. As soon as I pushed the ‘Confirm’ button, new notifications appeared:

  Your rapport with all nine empires has decreased to a state of war.

  You have lost official access to work with the Hansa Arms Corporation.

  What terrifying words for a player! Everything is terrible! This is the end…beautiful friend…the end! Sell everything ASAP, delete the current avatar, close the account and pray that my karma doesn’t transfer to the next one. Then again, when you consider the significance of it all — you realize that things aren’t so bad. For example, the Delvians have no empire and who knows when they’ll get one. Or if they’ll get one. And that wording too…‘official access.’ I love it.

  “The captain wants to see you. There’s a job for you.” The orders started coming in about as soon as the skull and crossbones icon flared to life over my head. The pirates’ organizational structure was not remarkable for its complexity. It went ordinary pirate, lieutenant, major, general, deputy and then the head himself. This required strict subordination. Orders descended from above and demanded immediate obedience. Being a major, I had all kinds of cares and duties — but I also had about a thousand subordinates ready to execute any of my orders. At the same time, I in turn, must obey Gloom.

  “Do I have time to spare or shall I report at once?”

  “No one mentioned any deadlines but I wouldn’t advise dragging it out. You are one of us now and you will be treated accordingly. You should forget about having rescued us — we already did. The captain thanks you for the Prince. He is an important prize. What do you need time for?”

  “I am in the middle of an operation. It will be difficult to stop it. I have to settle some accounts with an old enemy and then I will appear before the captain.”

  Gloom gazed at me for a good while, shifting from one foot to the other. Having looked around and making sure that no one except Eunice was nearby, the Pyrrhenian hovered up to me and asked in a whisper:

  “Will it get hot?”

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  “Do you have room for one more?”

  “I’ll make it if I don’t.”

  Gloom began to glow like a star atop a Christmas tree and my rapport with him increased. But this turned out to be a mere trifle compared to the advice the pi
rate had for me when I let him in on the plan. Just a few extra touches and my plan now shimmered with all new colors, having gone from ‘maybe if that happens, I guess I’ll do this’ to ‘in the event of this, we will respond like that.’ Like two schoolchildren Eunice and I sat and listened to the wisdom of Wit-Verr’s deputy. And with every bit of advice from the Pyrrhenian, I understood that I had made the right decision after all. Paradoxically, with these pirates, I felt like I was completely among my own.

  Tryd returned with his gang in exactly two hours. Glancing at the hologram of the Jolly Roger Brotherhood on the chest of my armor suit, he muttered something along the lines of ‘At last some certainty around here!’ but then immediately encountered Gloom ensconced in the co-pilot’s chair. The fox lost it. His upper lip twitched, exposing his fangs, and Tryd whirled sharply in my direction, pointing with his paw to the unexpected guest: