Cyber Viking 3

by Marcus Sloss

  “Please know that the Ferox’s behavior, upon purchase, is on you. If it eats some youngling, that is not my fault. As far as the chickens go, I have them all in stock. I also have more Ramoth and Slongers, if you are interested. How did your last season go?” Roarson asked, walking us behind a final strip of animal pens. I grunted and pointed at a swan looking animal, except it was green with a large head. “Those are Swaxi; good eating. Nice white meat. I eat one of these birds about every three seasons. They would only produce four eggs during that timeframe. So, once you do the math, you’ll realize it's a meat bird. They eat a lot of greens, roots, and insects. If you plan on going the automated food production route, get something else to keep out the pests. I have something similar to the chickens we got from Earth.” He chuckled, “Another fowl bird.”

  Perci rolled her eyes at the pun.

  “Our last blue portals were interesting. A furious few days of action, then a long period of peace. The ‘fowl birds’…” Perci punched me in the arm, but I couldn’t help myself, “were they ducks?” I wondered, stroking my chin.

  “That's the one. So many variations. Fewer of them than the chickens, but they have not sold yet. Here is… I call this Ferox something that is close to his temperament ... Ornery? … Yes, that word translates,” Roarson said, as we arrived at the cat’s pen—if the cat were the size of an elephant.

  I stepped forward and stuck my arm through the bars with my hand out, much like you would approach a strange dog. The ferox sniffed my fingers. Finally, a scent that pleased the animal. The large cat pushed its head against the bars, trying rub up against my chest.

  “You saw a divine-ape, didn’t you?” Roarson said with a sigh.

  “Yeah, it appears we are on the same side of a war against the Lurol,” I said, petting the massive cat and feeling tiny next to ... Hmm… ‘Onix’ would work.

  “We Scary Bears are traders, so we officially stay neutral, although we do believe the quarantine creators and maintainers are indeed akin to gods. We also believe many of their actions unjust, and retribution is justified,” Roarson said with a grumble. “That is our official position. Looks like you’ve got a friend. Can you afford this big guy, though?”

  “Who, Onix? I don’t know, honestly. I don't have any females to stud him out with. While an amazing animal, Onix would eat a lot. We have a large herd of Yexin, though, far more than we can eat before winter arrives. Our raiding went particularly well on one planet. Can I learn about how you got him?” I asked.

  “Oh, ‘Onix’ is it? That is a good name. I like it. We got him as a cub, hoping to get a female if he bonded. Problem was, he never loved us like the others. More of a roaming male, seeking a home of his own, and ours is not it. Every season he sticks around our hideout to help, but he always willingly comes back before every market. We purchased a different male and two females. They live with us, but the other male grew up bigger and stronger.” Roarson went to pet Onix, who backed away at the Scary Bear’s approach. “Yeah, after last time, I figured he would be like this. His cost what we paid for him as a cub, not a penny more, for the years of care or food. Only five years old, and Cap, he may not bond to you either. Consider yourself forewarned, this is a bit of a gamble. I treat customers fairly. But look at him—he is content.”

  “May I see the purchase price again?” I asked. He sent me the listing. “Funny thing is, I am new to these mineral based monetary systems—the neilspar thing, the zinc, and the yttrium.” I snorted, “I remember looking at prices this last golden portal and scoffing.” I motioned Perci over to compare notes. “I can buy three eight-man tanks for this price, and I have no clue whether or not it is a good price or a swindle. I don’t even know if the big guy will stick around when we get home; he may flee off to wherever he wants to.” I scrubbed my hands through my hair. “I need dropships, and to ramp food production up big-time. You got any used dropships or food automation, by chance?”

  “Um… two wildly different questions.” He stared off into space, “The first issue has its own set of problems—see, once your automation is set up, it is almost never torn down. I do have a guy I can recommend, though. Deals in neilspar, direct pricing, and sells great machines—same kind we use.” He frowned, “As for your ‘dropships’ … I don’t think my translator understands what you are asking for, the term is too vague. Are you asking for something that goes high in the air and down to the ground?” Roarson asked, scratching his ear in confusion. He even used his hands to indicate a flying aircraft clearing an obstacle.

  “Yes, that description is accurate. Please, let me get the automation machinery dealer’s location while we talk,” I said. Roarson zapped the data to my translator.

  I pulled the data to my Gpad, so that Everly or Daphne could access it and make the purchases.

  “My den may have a few used animal haulers that would serve your needs. We have been meaning to get better venting versions,” Roarson said, scrunching his nose as if having an unpleasant thought. “No armaments, though. We set up on a planet someone else called home at one point. Left everything behind to scurry off into a massive jungle. We fly them in and out of the gates. The golden portals let you do that.”

  I motioned for him to expound a little more on how that was done.

  “If you want to use them on an offensive mission,” he explained, “then you have to tow them through the portal and relaunch them once on the other side. The ones we have run on oxygen generators, but power plants are easy enough to swap out.”

  “How many do you have, and how much?” I asked in a firm tone, getting directly to the point.

  “Give me six minutes and twelve seconds to find out,” Roarson said, and I nodded.

  “Oddly specific time,” Perci said, petting Onix. The big cat loved the attention. Despite his being a massive, scary predator, the big lug was acting like an oversized house cat.

  “It is a phrase, like ‘give me five minutes’. The translator calculates the conversion literally,” Everly informed us, scratching Onix behind one big ear. “He is gorgeous. I love his black fur and brown stripes. He will be nearly invisible at night. That Winston fellow might be able to help us find a mate for him. We will need his assistance.”

  “Is there not an animal market like the servant market?” I asked. I was a bit miffed that animals weren’t sold this way.

  “No, not that I know of; though I do not know of any reason why not, either.” Onix rubbed the Crixxi’s hand with his ear, clearly encouraging her to keep scratching. “Maybe it is to produce situations like this?” she mused.” Maybe because sapient lives are more or less a mandatory transaction requiring a black-and-white contract exchange? There is no swindling possible with contracts,” Everly shook her head, turning to me. “He might be extremely rare, or he might be super common, and this is a long con. Except you did say Lilith mentioned him.”

  I chuckled at the reminder before pointing at the big beast. “According to Lilith, this guy will eat intruders of the invisible kind. Hold that thought—I need to ask Roarson about his ‘seasonal’ terminology. I have been hearing it more often lately; some of us have even started using it.”

  I dialed Torrez.

  “Go for Torrez,” he responded.

  “I need a cost estimate on the dropships, and then I am going to send you the price of a comparable airship, an animal hauler. We may have to stick with the used air vehicles to start,” I said, and he was silent.

  Moments later, Perci’s Gpad chimed, and she tilted her forearm towards me to show that, according to her balance sheet, we had enough zinc left to buy a hundred drop ships. “Is that with or without any add-ons?” I asked.

  “Base model,” Torrez grunted. “It comes with shielding, anti-air to some extent, autopilot, a whole lot of powerful guns, and nine elemental power plants—one for each of the most common elements. All that is standard, though the power plants are interchangeable. It seats forty comfortably, sixty if you really crammed folks in there. It can climb
fairly high and compress down to a smaller sized interior, if need be” Torrez said happily. “But you're right, they are expensive, and Blob does not sell any cheaper models, mainly because if you die in the cheaper ones, then she has no repeat customers.”

  “Huh, that is a good business ethos. We help our customers return for more sales. Damn, Torrez, you’re putting me in a bind. Cap out,” I said.

  I entered the pen and sat in Onix’s nest of straw. The big lug curled around me. I folded into his fur.

  “Eric, don’t you dare get attached,” Perci said with a sour look. Sour might be a bit harsh, but she knew I was a sucker for pets. “We have only one viable aircraft. We need more of them. I want to open up trade with my Mom.”

  “Yeah, arriving in the airship carrier might be fine, though. We are working off too much information in here and not enough data out there,” I complained.

  “Because we only get one day in here and eleven more out there,” Perci said, folding her arms under her amazing breasts. She scrubbed at her face. “My mood is swinging all over the damn place. This market is making me tired.” I groaned. “Yep,” she chuckled, “here comes a yawn.”

  “For once, close those lips before—” I yawned too. Damnit.

  Roarson returned with a stern look. “The grand market is not real, you know. It uses your own energy to power your generated body about the station. At least, that is what our scientists theorize.” His toothy maw reared open in a yawn, too. “Even those of us who stay here the entire market, we get sleepy too. Even those creatures who don’t normally require sleep note how the market leaves them feeling exhausted,” Roarson said, returning to stand a short distance from my comfy spot. He folded his massive arms and gazed down his snout at me. “I like you, Cap, but you need to understand that talking in my place of business is not private if I am not around. So, I might offend you here, and if I do, good. You deserve it.”

  I snorted, unaffected by his warning. “By all means, go ahead.”

  “Your man was right. My transports are great for a cozy ride in friendly territory or a golden day on an Xgate you know is secure. I agree with this Blob creature, though, buy something fancy for raiding.” Roarson sent the information about his used haulers to my translator. I was not offended in the least that he had overheard our conversation. I synced the data to my Gpad and fired it off to Torrez. “Seasons is a term we use for blue portals. Nothing more, nothing less. You pay much more attention to the ones you survive before you sufficiently fortify your bases. You’ll count them less when you are as safe as you can be.”

  Torrez rang. I answered.

  “Did you look at these?” Torrez asked.

  “Nope.”

  “Cheap and reliant, but there are only two. Still, we should get them to use as materiel or people haulers, if nothing else. It would certainly make golden market days easier,” Torrez said. “Well, moving anything would be easier.”

  “What about the carrier?” I replied.

  “Redundancy. This gives us more options, and we are expanding, boss. I can probably modify these with another golden portal … I wouldn’t raid with them unless we knew for sure we were safe, too,” Torrez said after a pause.

  “Okay, I will buy them. But that means a change of plans with respect to the dopships: I am investing the rest of our capital in food production. I am tired of green Ramoth eggs and Yexin. We will get some super dropships next golden portal.” I paused, another yawn cracking my jaw. “Then, I am going to play with our new toys after taking a nap to recover from this market. Thanks for your hard work, Torrez. Cap out,” I said, closing the connection.

  “I will take Onix, your ducks, your chickens, more slongers, these ramoth, those pig animals, and both animal haulers,” I said confidently from my cozy spot.

  “You have oxygen on your planet?” Roarson queried, “We have sixty percent on ours.”

  “Twenty-something percent, but we have thousands of generators,” I replied with a wave of my hand.

  “Twenty-one percent,” Perci said smartly.

  I crawled away from my super-sized purring pillow, before climbing to my feet. I was ready to deal with the mess on Earth.

  “You might be fine with just the oxygen generators, but I would toss a third nitrogen generator in, if I were you. Here is the bill. I will take zinc if that is what you're using. Imagine my surprise when my den leader asked for zinc, though I have no clue why zinc this time and not neilspar,” Roarson said, with a friendly smile.

  I signed the contract he sent and began walking towards the exit lift. We carried on small talk and I wished him a good season.

  When I arrived at our storage container, I groaned. I would not be taking a nap anytime soon, unless I went and hid from all the work that had piled up here.

  There were hundreds of tanks still in the storage unit. It looked like none of the gravity sleds for hauling items had been removed. Seventy-two Pandarin stood in one corner, looking around at all the confusion. Everly rushed to them even as our storage space expanded again. Rows of machinery dropped into the once-vacant space. More rows of something that resembled a machine press, and then a series of spindle presses. The interior of this place was beyond chaotic. I watched as the bulky new animal haulers arrived. The animals that showed up right after the haulers walked right into the transports, out of habit.

  “Come, here is the transport. I am told that if you fly it towards the gate, even a few inches, it will zap us out,” Perci said, motioning me towards a dented metallic container on a grav sled. “See, Everly is loading the first of the Pandarin in the back, with some of our new livestock.”

  The animal-hauling airship had short wings, a wide loading ramp, and a compartment for the crew on the bridge. The entire aircraft, if you could call it that, was a hundred feet long, fifty feet wide, and fifty feet tall, with only the single wide entry ramp at the rear for either animals or crew. There were no cool folding-down side doors or platforms that collected brought you from A to B. Just the rear ramp. I now understood why Torrez’s first question was if I had inspected this thing. It suddenly made sense why Torrez was underwhelmed by the design’s simplicity. This ‘aircraft’ was a box on an overpowered grav sled.

  When we arrived at the top of the ramp, the stench hit us. The smell came not from the animals already crowded inside. No, the floor reeked with a permeating stench of awfulness. I gagged. No wonder Roarson sold this to us. I jogged past the animals, with Everly and Perci hot on my heels. I ran up an interior ramp six feet wide and came to a door. I pulled it open, ducked into the doorway, and then slammed the door shut the moment the girls were inside.

  “Oh, hey, how did you know it wouldn’t reek of festering shit in here?” Perci asked, her nose still pinched. Yeah, that door did nothing to spare us from the smell out there.

  The crew’s cabin had no seats—this was bullshit. There was, however, a four-foot-tall podium that sported a half-circle of stations with interfaces. That was the only item to be found in the drab green, spartan interior. At least an expansive viewing window let you see clearly to the front, left, and right.

  “I didn’t have a clue whether or not the cabin stank. I prayed the last crew was smart enough to keep the stench out. Perci, you're the gadget guru. Get us home,” I ordered, pointing at the control station. “Everly, are all the Pandarin aboard?”

  “Aye, Cap,” she nodded, “they are loaded up.”

  Perci walked over to a station at the podium with an interface display. “Sealing the ramp, now,” she reported. “I show Torrez in Air Transport B, sealing his doors too. Hold on, please, otherwise your martini this round might be shaken, not stirred.” A few clicks and clacks later, and we shuddered off the ground, not smooth but not too rough. “Okay, going forward.” Perci guided towards the shimmering golden portal at the end of our storage bay.

  The cascading light filled the viewport, and I was excited to be heading back home.

  CHAPTER 5

  The evening sunset
cut across the streaking clouds in brilliant oranges and pinks. My hand blocked out the fading light, and I grinned at what I saw. I had expected confusion and disarray much like the storage bay, but saw that the community buzzed around the outside of the gate in a more controlled form of chaos. We exited out the east gate, about thirty feet off the ground.

  In a clearing to the southwest, I could see a swarm of the small, agile 63 tanks coordinating their maneuvers. The rapid vehicles played bumper cars, on occasion, but most executed their turns with a semblance of cohesion. When they fired a volley, a teal spray of energy crashed into the offending section of trees. A few shots went high, low, left, and right, but the majority of them hit their marks. The result was still encouraging, shredded trees popped and fizzled, with a few erupting into flame. I tucked in a quick elbow pump at the awesome display. Around the area, I counted a dozen of these small formations, practicing in every bit of open space they could find.

  To the left of the light 63 tanks sat their big brothers, the heavy behemoths. I changed their designation to TG99 and set the 63s’ designation to TP63. This would help us better organize our tactics and bring clarity to my orders. T for tank. (G)round or (P)ersonal for the model types, with the number designating each specific model.

  The TG99s tried to form a battle line. Behind the line, a separate TG99 towed a large shield generator. Though not as big as the shield the Lurrol had used, the towed shield generator was still so bulky that it barely fit onto its sled; my mind immediately wondered how powerful this shield was. The heavy tanks had trouble keeping their formation together, but valiantly tried to move as one. As they hovered forwards, trees were blasted skywards as the poor pines met the shield’s barrier. The maneuver was methodical, even, and organized. I noted such tactics were great for getting to a battle, but may not be adequate for the chaos of combat. I tried to keep in mind that you had to crawl before you walked, and walk before you ran; we were focusing on the crawling aspect first.