Edge of Reality Page 5

  As I collected the loot, I moved closer to the grating. There, I'd have to decide whether to go down or climb up.

  Going down was risky but promising. Climbing up probably wasn't a good idea. All I could find there was more xenomorphs, toxins and radiation, with the added danger of walking into the raid. Alternatively, I could find a pipe or a service tunnel and climb deep into it, barricading myself in.

  Was I the only smart one here?

  During my next stop, I took a good look around. The damaged lines seemed to be occasionally releasing bursts of toxins that immediately faded, dissolving into the air. Exactly my point. Why wouldn't xenomorphs use these pipes as ready-made holes to live in?

  The low oxygen content didn't make my life any easier, triggering regular bouts of vertigo and nausea.

  That's sorted, then. I had to go down.

  * * *

  Casting cautious looks around, I was approaching the makeshift steel grating, or the "bridge", as I mentally baptized it, when I had an impossible, incredible stroke of luck.

  My eye chanced on something familiar. I peered at it. That's right. Something gleamed a blurred purple amid the heaps of debris, the hue identical to that of my own armor.

  Without a second thought, I climbed the short distance up, grabbing at the sagging bunches of cables at the risk of falling to my death as my arms were already shaking with exhaustion.

  A mouth of a rather narrow tunnel opened up in front of me. A small platform hung in front of it, apparently made with whatever had come in handy. On top of the platform was a hideout. The glow I'd noticed was produced by a glove.

  A human? I pulled a rusty sheet of steel away. Behind it was indeed a hiding place.

  I crouched, shaking my head. Whoever had made this was a hardcore type. He hadn't been interested in small scale, but had lain here in waiting for some big game. A large-caliber sniper's rifle, quality gear, prearranged escape routes — and still he hadn't made it. He was literally chopped down by laser beams. His armor hadn't helped him much. For some reason, I immediately thought about the jellyfish "Guides". I had a funny feeling they were the only ones capable of making such a job of a human body. Besides, the laser beams seemed to have hit him directly from above.

  I still couldn't understand lots of things. Take me, for instance. Having received deadly doses of both radiation and toxic gases, I had respawned wearing full gear. Why were these bodies slowly decaying here then, armor, weapons and all? Or was he an NPC?

  Lots of questions, no answers.

  His armor looked very similar to mine. I threw caution to the wind and began collecting the trophies. It took me a minute to work out the jammed fixtures of his helmet. Finally I was able to remove it — and I looked away.

  Sick motherfuckers! I felt my jaw lock. It was the first time in my life that picking up loot made me feel like a grave robber.

  A human skull stared back at me with its sunken eye sockets framed with long matted blond hair.

  A girl?

  I lay the skull gently next to the body. I wanted to turn around and leave but stopped myself just in time.

  Arbido had been right. The three years I'd spent playing a paladin had seriously affected my head. This wasn't the Crystal Sphere anymore. And I wasn't the level 430 top player.

  Trying not to look at the skull, I crouched and picked up the helmet.

  Not a trace of human flesh inside. The discovery made me feel better. Apparently, these bodies didn't belong to dead players. Could they be part of the gory interior design?

  I put the helmet on. The locks clicked shut. The neck ring rotated close. The dull milky visor began to clear. I glimpsed a brief sequence of incomprehensible system messages. With a hiss, the row of lights lining the helmet's rim flickered and went out.

  You're not suffering from oxygen deficiency anymore, the interface reported breezily, then immediately threw cold water over my excitement, Warning! The battery charge of the life support system is dangerously low!

  Well, this I could probably manage. I had already begun to find my way around this new world. I picked up a damaged rifle and studied its stock. Predictably, I found two micro nuclear batteries still intact in their slots. I replaced my old ones with these.

  The power lights changed their mode to a dull green.

  Excellent.

  I didn't have any qualms about getting myself a pair of gloves. The blisters on my hands had by then long burst. I avoided looking at my bleeding hands nor did I have to: the pain wouldn't let me forget about the damage done.

  Once I finished putting my new gear on, I received a message,

  You have collected a full set of light pressure gear.

  I studied the bonuses it offered. Apparently, now I could resist the toxic haze, low levels of oxygen and even spend up to two hours in a vacuum. That's what the charge still left in the batteries was going to last: two hours. I also discovered ten empty slots for additional equipment.

  The helmet only had one option — which had to be extremely expensive considering its purpose. It was a set of electronic sights complete with a self-adapting system of enemy vulnerability analysis and a ballistic calculator which computed all environmental factors such as gravity, atmospheric density, wind direction and force. Absolutely indispensable for extreme long-range sniper missions.

  Actually, I could use it too, couldn't I? Why not? Now I could finally hunt a few xenomorphs if I wanted to. I could do a bit of leveling, if the ammo and remaining charge in the batteries allowed.

  The idea was good, with the exception of a few cons. My talent branches were still blocked. I could still grow in levels, of course, simply accumulating the new available skill and ability points. Choosing specialization, however, required some quality thinking to make sure I didn't repent at my leisure later on in the game. At the moment, I didn't have enough information about the Phantom Server world to be able to make this kind of decision.

  But plain leveling wasn't going to do me much good, either. Game rules dictated that my opponents grew in levels, too. Fighting them on bare hits alone wasn't an option.

  Some predicament. Should I go hunting or should I continue gathering intel, searching for the apparently so indispensable implants?

  As I pondered over this, the pain in my hands was replaced with a prickling sensation. My character's cartoonish outline in the tiny status window had turned green.

  Yeah, right. Was this world geared toward technology alone?

  I removed my left glove and studied the palm of my hand. Just as I'd thought. Not a trace of the injuries I'd received. Imagine the regeneration rate! Having said that, the life support bar had shrunk considerably. There's no such thing as a free lunch — or a free miracle. Everything has its price.

  The hunt would have to wait. I needed to stock up on batteries and other supplies before everything else.

  My gaze chanced upon a mummy's withered hand. The creature must have been a quest NPC, I thought noticing a dull metallic glow.

  A ring?

  Exactly. I carefully removed it, trying to study it, but no amount of focusing helped me this time. More question marks were all I could see.

  Okay. I had to start playing at some point, after all.

  I slid the plain ring onto my own finger and very nearly screamed with pain.

  The metal was melting! I tried to pull the morphing ring off my finger, but I could just as well pull my own finger off. My vision blurred, a sudden numbness touching the back of my head. My legs gave way under me. I slumped down, trying not to faint, and lifted my left hand, overcoming the ever-growing pain.

  The liquid metal had run, forming what now looked like a signet ring made of quicksilver. Its surface turned into a diamond-shaped blob which began growing a multitude of stalks very much like the microscopic pins of my own neuroimplant. I broke into a cold sweat, watching them expand. Then they began filtering through my skin.

  I suppressed a scream, gnashing my teeth, wriggling with pain and horror. To
hell with such authenticity!

  Grinding my teeth, I wheezed, sweat dripping to the floor. Tears welled in my eyes.

  My left hand throbbed from wrist to fingertips. A net of blood vessels appeared under the pallid skin, fiery red as if they transported liquid plasma and not blood.

  I balanced on the edge of consciousness, forcing myself to stay aware. No idea why, considering the agony was dreadful. You'd think I'd have been happy to zone out for a couple of minutes — but no, I stayed awake even though the torture seemed to never end.

  An intense aura enveloped my hand and flared up, dripping sparks. Then it went out.

  My ears rang. In the crimson darkness a new message flashed before my eyes,

  New quest alert! Alien Mind.

  Availability: only Humans

  You have found and absorbed a techno artifact of the Founders era. Find four more in order to put together a complete module.

  Reward: Unknown.

  That's when it finally clicked.

  I turned my head slowly and looked at the remains of the blonde girl. Her skull grinned ungainly, staring at me in silent sympathy as if foreseeing my own fate.

  I remembered Arbido's warning.

  No. I couldn't believe that this girl was a dead player.

  I had to come back to this question at some other point in time.

  * * *

  The remaining descent went without any new surprises.

  The armor was comfortable, leaving plenty of space for movement. I used my new sniper system to study the way ahead but it didn't detect any traps or enemies lying in wait.

  I slung the gun over my back and slid down the cable. Had it not been for the gloves, it would have stripped my skin to the bone.

  I landed in a rather small room flooded with a dull yellowish light. No furniture, no equipment — I only noticed the gaping holes where some sort of mountings had been ripped out of the walls. Through a rather human-size doorway I caught a glimpse of a bending corridor.

  The only way was straight on.

  Honestly, I wasn't a big fan of technogenic post-ap worlds but I was left with no choice. Besides, they kept continuously rekindling my interest, adding a liberal dose of cheap thrills.

  The silence was dull and muffled. Mechanically I glanced at my left hand. The pain was long gone and so was the numbness. I was dying to remove the glove but I stopped myself just in time. The moment wasn't quite right.

  The short arching corridor took me to a large low-ceilinged hall. Here, the air was very rare. The sound of my footsteps died on the noise-reducing flooring that felt spongy and springy underfoot.

  I looked around. The place resembled a large looted warehouse. Everywhere I looked I could see broken containers — oblong with rounded corners. Lots of sectionalized bulkheads hindered my advance. The shelving spaces within them fit the murky-green containers perfectly.

  I proceeded slowly and carefully, casting an occasional glance on the map. The gun in my hands had offered little security so far. I knew from experience that until I had tested it in battle, the two of us wouldn't be inclined to trust each other.

  Nothing special was as yet happening, and still tension was growing inside me, a mind-chilling premonition ringing like a taut string.

  Another bend. Another sectionalized bulkhead. This time the containers weren't broken but just lay there in a heap. I tried to prize one open. No way. Not a sign of a lock or any other access device.

  Yet another bend. I could see the outline of the room clearly on the map. Beyond it, everything was dark. Was it a dead end?

  There was one way to find out.

  I stepped out, bracing myself for whatever might come next. I expected anything.

  But not this.

  This was beyond all expectation.

  I slowed down, unthinking, oblivious to everything around me, not even noticing that the containers behind my back had begun to glow with the same coursing of static. Then their tops fell apart into segments which began to open like mechanical flowers.

  But I hadn't seen it yet. This understanding would come later. Now my gaze was slowly sinking into the Void.

  An entire wall of the large room was in fact an enormous observation blister. Beyond it, billions of bright stars clustered generously in space.

  I was smitten. Slowly I approached the window, amazed at the clarity and the thinness of the material that separated me from the vacuum and its eternal cold. More pulses of energy shimmered across its surface.

  A force field?

  All the questions crowding my mind had faded away, losing their importance. Countless more details came into view. I could see a large ledge one level below, its ribbed surface arching toward the stars. Its compartments were shaped rather like launch pads — some were empty while others offered a glimpse of spaceships ready to take off. Judging by their size, they must have been airspace hybrids.

  Two planets glowed at a distance. One was yellowish brown surrounded by several rings; the other a light bluish gray blotched by swirling clouds.

  I began to shiver. A multitude of tiny sparks could be seen moving on the foreground of the magnificent constellations. Immediately my helmet reacted to my mental state, enlarging the sparks and bringing them closer one by one, switching between potential targets.

  Enormous space stations floated in the dark. A plethora of cargo craft and warships scurried between them.

  Before I could get a good look at them, the helmet switched to other objects. Several clusters of some technogenic Leviathans drifted through space, their outlines dark and menacing, their hulls gaping with past impacts. I was looking at the aftermath of a space battle between some ancient Titans!

  My heart sank in awe. The sheer scope of it dwarfed you, teasing your imagination. All this knowledge to pursue! Would one life be enough to explore every corner of this stellar system? And what if there were even more of them here? I focused on one particular spark of a spaceship orbiting the grayish-blue planet until it zoomed in to a reasonable size, descending, actually entering the planet's atmosphere!

  Yeah, right. Did they mean you could land on a planet here?

  That could expand the already-impressive world to the size of infinity. And that was only what I could see and grasp now. By the fact that the stars were stationary I concluded that the space station I was currently on didn't rotate, which must have left scores of unknown objects hidden from view. I could only guess about the true scope of this world.

  The scintillating shock of this sudden change of scenery began to release me. I wasn't yet trying to process what I'd just seen but I was already celebrating all the new opportunities multiplied by the new gameplay's doubtless authenticity.

  A suspicious noise distracted me from the scene. I swung round, instinctively raising my weapon but having no chance to shoot first. Lightning-bolt discharges hit me from every direction at once.

  For a split second, the armor had withstood their pressure. Then my muscles froze solid.

  You've been paralyzed!

  Several mechanical creatures were approaching me. They looked like spheres a couple of feet in diameter, with lots of sensors. Their ribbed tentacle-like manipulators writhed around freely.

  Dargian combat drones, my interface offered helpfully.

  Another lightning bolt hit me. Everything went dark.

  * * *

  I came round in a dark personnel module, cramped and dirty, divided slapdashly into tiny little cells.

  My armor was gone and so was my gun. I was dressed in some crumpled oversized gray clothes. On my neck was a slave collar.

  I could barely see and I definitely couldn't think straight.

  Through the thick gloom I glimpsed a few Haash-like shapes. One huddled on the floor in the cell next to mine; another clenched the bars of one opposite, piercing me with his glare; the third one was crouching, whining and rocking from side to side.

  That was me done here. Enough for today! All I could feel was a mind-numbing exhau
stion bordering on indifference. Never before had I ever been so depleted both physically and morally.

  Should I just sit there cursing myself for being so gullible? What was the point? I definitely hadn't been the first one who'd frozen open-mouthed at the observation window, dumbfounded, exposing his back to the conveniently arriving drones.

  A noob trap.

  Very well. So I'd lost my gun and my gear. They hadn't killed me on the spot which meant they intended to use me. For the time being, my avatar wasn't risking much — meaning, things were unlikely to get worse.

  That was settled, then. Time to log out. I needed a break and a bite to eat, as well as some quality sleep and time to think my options over.

  I pressed the virtual button. Nothing happened. Instead, a message popped up,

  Your current status: Prisoner. According to the Terms and Conditions you accepted by signing, you cannot exit the testing mode while being imprisoned. We strongly recommend you activate the in-mode by sending a remote command to your capsule. If you are unable to do so personally, send a message to our technical support team to visit your current physical location.

  They were too much! All my apathy was gone in a flash.

  I hadn't signed any terms or conditions! I hadn't even seen them!

  I cut myself short.

  Arbido. The bastard! He'd signed it electronically in my name, hadn't he? How else was he supposed to register a Phantom Server account for me?

  I pressed the logout button again.

  New quest alert! A Prison Break.

  Find a way to escape from your current imprisonment. In order to do that, we strongly recommend you activate the in-mode. If you are unable to do so personally...

  With a swipe of my eyes, I got rid of the message and crouched on the floor.

  The Haash opposite was still staring at me. Whatever.

  I fell deep in thought, none of it particularly rosy. The moment I was out of here, Arbido could kiss his reputation goodbye. Then again, what was the point of him risking it for the dubious pleasure of setting me up? No. I wasn't buying it. He couldn't not have read the TAC before signing it. Not with his experience. Something smelled very badly here.