I maneuvered the bike around the larger chunks of shredded airplane and carefully weaved down the access road. Fortunately, I found that the bike’s thick tires held up just fine over the jagged bits of metal that littered the wreckage.
Once through the debris, I turned off the main drive just before the terminal where passengers used to be dropped off, and I angled out toward the tarmac.
I had to pull my bike into my Inventory when I reached a fenced and gated area, but with my improved stats, I easily leapt over the fence. A short jog and a few hops over additional fences later, I stood at the edge of the runway where the grounded spaceship sat.
The massive craft dwarfed the 737s that sat abandoned at the darkened airport terminals. The sharply angular ship was easily taller than the terminal itself, and the shape reminded me of the Washington Monument—if the monument were tipped over on its side and covered in gun turrets that poked out from the main body. The rear of the craft seemed to be made up entirely of engines and nozzles. Most of them still billowed steam. Bright lights shone down from the craft at regular intervals, illuminating the blackened runway underneath the ship and the surrounding area.
Ramps descended from open hatches along the side of the starship, and figures streamed out to gather in a large crowd at the base of the ship. Every one of the humanoids seemed to be carrying something off of the ship. Whether it was a case, a duffel bag, or a crate, a steady flow of cargo moved down the ramps to pile on the pavement. The humanoid figures huddled as close to the end of the gangways and their piled belongings as possible, only moving farther away when the press of the crowd pushed them from the ship. Those at the outer edges glanced around nervously.
At first, I thought the scale of the massive ship had thrown off my perception, but eventually I was able to make out that the issue wasn’t my sense of scale. The figures around the starship were only about three feet tall, and their hair sprouted a dizzying variety of colors. Primary colors like red and blue seemed most popular, but a riot of neon and multi-toned shades also abounded.
They looked nothing like the dead alien back at the school. My longshot hope that these newcomers might be of the same race had failed to pay off. Part of me was disappointed.
Some excitement occurred when a figure at the edge of the crowd noticed me watching and pointed me out to others. Several individuals broke from the crowd and seemed to grow as they were covered in a metallic sheen. Three of the armored figures started toward me then halted about halfway between the crowd and me. The rest spread out in a perimeter around the throng.
The three figures were clad in wide-bodied armored suits and were close enough now that I could make out the variety of their weapons. Missile racks, gun pods, and crystalline laser emitters covered the torsos, shoulders, and arms of the mechas. I could also see inside the glass cockpit canopies and easily picked out the details of their pilots.
Gnomes. The first living Galactic aliens I encountered on Earth were gnomes.
Their armored suits were much more refined than the mecha I had encountered back in the library. That construct had looked unfinished with all of its exposed wires, gears, and pistons. These suits had a sleek, high-tech, and futuristic look. They were completely armored, and even the joints had added plates to minimize weaknesses over the articulation points.
A commotion pulled my attention away from the sleek mechas.
The nervous murmurs of the crowd had grown quiet, and I saw that everyone was focused on a confrontation at the top of the forward-most ramp of the ship.
A large four-armed, green-hued reptilian gestured and yelled at a much smaller gray-haired gnome who responded in kind, despite leaning on a cane that he jabbed down onto the deck plate of the ship for emphasis. I had no idea what the two were saying, but neither seemed happy with the other.
The gnome lifted his cane and jabbed it at the green alien, poking him in the abdomen. The alien stared down at the gnome incredulously for a moment. Then the green alien pivoted on one leg and booted the gnome out of the hatch.
The kick sent the gnome airborne, completely overshooting the ramp and out into the crowd below, where he landed on several others. The mass of tiny figures fell over in a pile of tangled limbs.
Before the gnome had even landed, the hatches of the ship all clanged shut, and the ramps retracted. A rumble grew from the ship, and the edges of the crowd backed away from the craft. The movement of the mob turned into a more panicked run as steam jetted out of engines underneath the ship.
As soon as the crowd had cleared away from the starship, small thrusters ignited at regular intervals around the ship. Fire streamed out from underneath the ship, and the craft rose slowly from the ground. Cargo dropped by the fleeing gnomes tumbled across the runway from the force of the thrusters.
Once the ship was fully in the air, it hovered for a moment until the rear engines flared. The added thrust pushed the ship upward and it moved away, accelerating faster and higher until it was only a dot in the dark sky above.
As the speck of light receded in the distance, I looked over the much-dispersed crowd. Quite a few had fled in my direction when the starship took off, while the three closest mechanized suits had moved even closer toward me in order to keep themselves between me and the crowd they protected.
Through the clear canopies of the suits, I saw the pilot’s lips moving. Though I couldn’t hear anything, I assumed they had a communications system built into the suits.
From behind me, the sound of teeth chattering and claws clattering across the asphalt tarmac pulled my attention away from the gnomes. I turned and found myself being rushed by a pair of groundhogs, each grown to the size of a shopping cart.
The two creatures were still over a dozen yards away, so I pulled my beam pistol from my holster and fired at the left-hand groundhog as I cast a Frostbolt at the one on the right. I heard the gnomes grow agitated behind me, but since they were still keeping their distance, I ignored them as I continued to pour energy beams and Frostbolts into the two creatures.
The left groundhog dropped quickly, and I activated Hinder on the last one. It slowed as I holstered my beam pistol and drew my combat knife. I spun the weapon in my hand as I pulled it, keeping the tip up but with the blade reversed, the edge pointing back toward me.
When the sole groundhog lunged toward me, I dodged the attack and jammed my knife into the side of its throat. Then I sidestepped toward the far side of the groundhog and pulled the blade toward me as the creature squealed. The blade tore through the flesh of the groundhog’s neck and a torrent of blood gushed out as I spun away from the dying beast.
Using my new experience notifications, I confirmed the groundhogs were dead and cast Cleanse on my knife before I slid it back into the sheath. Then I turned back to the gnomes.
The faces of the armored suit pilots were pictures of shock and awe. It was the most perfect reaction I could have hoped for from my demonstration of “don’t mess with the human.” I couldn't have given myself a better introduction if I had tried.
Behind the mech suits, the crowd was getting organized under the direction of several elders who shouted commands in a language I couldn’t understand. The gnomes scurried across the tarmac, gathering the containers scattered by the ship’s departure.
As the belongings were assembled into neat stacks, two of the armored suits in front of me stepped aside and revealed a small gaggle of elderly gnomes led by an older gray-haired gnome with a fine beard that descended down to a belt filled with pouches and tools. When the bearded gnome stepped forward with a cane, I realized he was the gnome who had been punted off the ship. If the tumble had affected him at all, the dignified gnome now looked none the worse for the wear.
Close up, the gnomes looked very much like tiny humans with only a few differences. They had bulbous wide noses and large, rounded ears that stuck out from the sides of their wild hairstyles. Their bodies were pleasantly rounded, and I noticed that there seemed to be minimal deviation from
their standard figure—none were either overly skinny or plump.
While I looked over the group, the older gnome approached within easy conversation distance before he stopped and jabbered something at me in a high-pitched voice.
I raised an eyebrow and shook my head. “Sorry, no idea what you just said.”
I made a mental note to look into whether languages could be bought like spells or skills the next time I visit a Shop.
“Bah,” spat the gnome. “Can you understand me now?”
“I can now.” I nodded.
“Fantastic!” The gnome cheered up and a grin visibly split his beard. “I am Borgym Sprocketsworth. The Sprocketsworth clan has come to establish an advanced manufacturing center on this new world.” He looked around nervously at the dark, quiet airport, then peered up at me intently. “Might I have your name, gentle being, and whether you represent the owners of this terrestrial transportation hub?”
“My name is Hal Mason,” I replied. “I’m an Adventurer apparently, and I am not associated with any owners of this airport, if anyone does now.”
Borgym’s eyes widened in astonishment, and he turned back to the other elders. He said something in the language I didn’t understand, and the others babbled back excitedly. They went back and forth for a couple minutes until Borgym seemed to remember I was still there and he turned back to me.
“Apologies, Adventurer Mason,” he said. “We had nearly given up hope and have now been presented with an opportunity that may be the salvation of our clan.”
My furrowed brow must have clued Borgym in that I had no idea what he was talking about.
“I can explain later,” said the elderly gnome. “Right now, it is most imperative that we clear this airport of any spawned monsters and register ownership with the System at the nearest Shop.”
I took the gnome at his word and explained the directions to the last Shop I had visited.
When Borgym called over a pair of younger gnomes and asked me to repeat the directions, I pulled up my map and shared the data of all the local Shop locations with Borgym and the couple with matching neon blue hair. I also warned them about the disabled vehicles that blocked the roads in many places.
A new notification popped up a second later and informed me that Borgym had tipped me a few hundred Credits for sharing the information. I nodded at him respectfully in thanks.
The older gnome grinned deviously. “How would you like to earn even more Credits, Adventurer?”
“You have my attention, Elder Sprocketsworth,” I replied.
“Just Borgym, please,” said the elderly gnome.
While we talked, the blue-haired couple stepped away from us and, after ensuring nothing else was nearby, placed a dark gray container on the ground. One gnome tapped the side of the box, then they both moved away from it as the sides unfolded. The thing expanded quickly and soon formed itself into a sled-like vehicle with side-by-side seats for a driver and a passenger.
Once fully assembled, the vehicle raised off the ground several inches to hover in place, and an energy shield shimmered faintly in the air around it. The two gnomes climbed into the sled, then the craft floated upward to hover in the air just over my head. The two gnomes waved to Borgym and me, then the hover sled jetted off to the south as they headed to the nearest Shop.
Borgym waved at the gnomes as they disappeared in the distance, then he turned to me. “Since I am sending several of my combat capable gnomes off to the nearest Shop to purchase this location, that will leave us shorthanded on forces capable of removing any hostile creatures that may have spawned here. I would like to hire you for your assistance and additional firepower.”
“I’m always up for earning a few more Credits,” I replied.
“Excellent!” Borgym exclaimed.
A moment later, a new notification appeared. I accepted the prompt, and the journal in my status screen updated with the new Quest.
Quest Received—Assist the Sprocketsworth clan with clearing the airport facilities.
Help the Sprocketsworth clan remove any monster spawns from within designated target structures.
Reward: Variable XP and Credits based on structure size and monsters encountered. 25% share of all loot obtained. Increased reputation with Sprocketsworth clan.
The old gnome turned and gestured toward the air traffic control tower that lay across the tarmac. “Let’s start there.”
“Sounds good to me,” I replied and walked toward the distant building.
Borgym remained behind, but two of the mech suits followed me. The third suit sprinted toward where the other gnomes had gathered their belongings into evenly piled stacks.
The suit caught up before we were halfway to the towering structure and handed me a small bead that was slightly rubbery. The pilot gestured to me and indicated I should place the globule in my ear. When I pushed it in, the material felt cool for a second and distant sound disappeared, then the device warmed and all sound returned as the sensation of even having something in my ear vanished.
“Hello, Adventurer!” a feminine voice squealed happily in my ear. I looked around to see the suit pilot waving excitedly from within the clear cockpit.
“Hello,” I replied.
“Oh, great,” she said. “The earpiece works as both a communicator and translator so that you can be a part of our tactical net while we work here.”
“That sounds useful,” I said.
“Yep, especially in a fight,” said a male voice over the comm. “I’m Ipbar. The excitable one who gave you the earpiece is Talliryna but just goes by Talli. Our third team member is Alryn, and he doesn’t talk much.”
“Hi,” said a new male voice, presumably Alryn.
“It’s nice to meet you all,” I said. “It will be nice to fight with a team again.”
“Have you been doing much fighting on your own?” Talli asked.
I thought about the best way to answer that question, considering they probably had analyzed my level by now.
“I was Level one yesterday morning,” I said finally.
“Oh,” said Talli, much of the enthusiasm drained from her tone.
After a pause, the three gnomes filled me in to the fact that they were not actually combat Classes. Talli and Ipbar were Engineer classes, which allowed them to build, maintain, and improve equipment like the mech suits they currently wore. Alryn was a Logistics Manager whose Class Skills allowed him to purchase limited amounts of materials, arms, and ammunition directly from the Shop despite not being at a physical Shop location.
It only took a few more minutes for the four of us to reach the lofty control tower.
The Pittsburgh Air Traffic Control Tower stood twenty stories tall, a building framed by four beige stone columns that rose the height of the tower. A metal skeleton within the columns made up the framework that housed the stairs, elevator, and infrastructure that allowed the control center at the top to operate. There was no entrance directly into the tower itself, and we had to go through the adjoining office building at the base of the tower.
Eventually, we found our way to the tower entrance, where we found a thick metal security door that was cracked open, as if the last person leaving had not bothered to shut the door behind them. I checked the door carefully and found no damage to it. The door had been released from the inside when the power had failed due to the Mana interference as the System came online yesterday.
I stepped through the door and listened quietly. Only silence filled the area, and I slowly crept my way over to the elevator. The elevator doors had been pried open, and a crowbar lay discarded beside them. I stuck my head cautiously inside and verified that the carriage was empty.
I gestured to the gnomes, who followed me toward the stairs, the metallic footsteps of their armor dampened to almost noiselessness. Flight by flight, they quietly followed me up the winding stairs of the superstructure and toward the control center at the top of the tower.
With only a few levels left to climb
, a soft flutter beside me grabbed my attention. I turned to find a giant wasp clinging to the side of the tower column. Folded back along the insect’s side, the creature’s wings were almost as long as I was tall, and it was the gentle ruffle of those wings by the half-asleep creature that had alerted me to its presence.
I pulled my knife in a smooth motion and drove it into the insect’s fist-sized eye. I yanked the blade toward me and rotated my arm as the insect screamed, grabbing the insect’s mandibles with my other hand. I pulled and twisted, the insect’s legs scrambling as they tried to retain their grip on the stone column. I jerked hard on the insect’s head, and it tore free of the thin neck with a disgusting pop. The body of the insect tumbled away, and I was left with a wasp head in my hands.
My knife pulled free with a squelch, and I tossed the head over the side of the landing as a buzz filled the air above us with a steady drone.
The next few minutes were a flurry of energy blasts, gunfire, explosions, and spell bursts.
The gnomes used their combined firepower to engage the maddened wasps at range. Fortunately, the suits—and their weapons—were all created within the System and didn’t have any of the weaknesses of native weaponry. Their beams burned away wing membranes, and their projectiles punched right through the insect carapaces.
With the gnomes handling the ranged attacks, I elected to save my ammunition as I dodged around the gnomes and attacked any of the wasps that dived in for stinger attacks. Between Hinder, Frostbolt, and my natural agility, I was able to deflect the diving wasps so that every dive always missed the gnomes, and I managed to dispatch several insects on my own.
One by one, injured and dying wasps dropped out of sight until none were left in the air and silence filled the tower once again.
The gnomes panted audibly over the communications link, so I waited for a minute to let them catch their breath before I continued up the stairs. I only made it up the next flight before I found the passage blocked with a brownish material. I pushed my hand against it and felt some give to the thick woody, paper-like material.
Fist Full of Credits: A New Apocalyptic LitRPG Series (System Apocalypse - Relentless Book 1) Page 15