Web of Worlds

by Michael Atamanov

  “General Ui-Taka is an exception. In fact, he is the only nonmage to rule in the last eight hundred years. But that terror attack has caused many problems for the new leader of the Dark Faction, the least of which is that many of his advisors and assistants in the game that bends reality were hurt or killed. He was actually blamed for the blast himself and four of the most powerful directories have declared war on his state. So...”

  Ivan Lozovsky gave a satisfied snort and said the Dark Faction strategist would soon be so wrapped up in real-world conflicts that he wouldn’t have any time for the game.

  After that, he heard shouts of approval, even applause. The news of the fearsome enemy’s new problems was taken very positively. One of the council members even said something like, “the Dark Faction will now simply collapse. Citizens of the First Directory are already not especially loyal to him as the former ruler of a different government, and it sounds like they won’t be seeing him very often.” However, the others in the room did not share his optimism.

  “Ivan, what does this all mean?” one of the previously silent curators asked. “You yourself just said that only mages can rule in their world, but the last of the La-Fin dynasty passed away without a mage to succeed him. So who will be the new head of the First Directory and most powerful Dark Faction figure not in the game but the real world?”

  The din immediately went silent, everyone listening attentively for Lozovsky’s answer. So when the Diplomat did speak up, it sounded quite abrupt:

  “The new ruler of the First Directory is Gnat! Our Gnat! Coruler Thumor-Anhu La-Fin’s granddaughter, Princess Minn-O La-Fin is his junior wife and he undoubtedly possesses magical abilities. According to the laws of the magocratic world, that is all it takes to make Kirill Ignatiev a Coruler!”

  The buzz picked back up. The curators were actively discussing the news. However, they immediately went quiet when they saw the doors quietly peek open. Then an agitated young officer walked toward the speaker in a quick almost running gait, holding a telephone and pointing motioning toward the corridor where the call wouldn’t be jammed. The Major General apologized to everyone and hurried to the exit.

  Something very extreme must have happened if they sent someone in to interrupt this secret meeting. In the quiet of the hall, everyone was whispering guesses, but the word heard most often was “war.” And in fact, when the speaker came in three minutes later with a deadened face, his first word was:

  “War!!! At five o’clock this morning game-world time, our Rainforest node was attacked by the Dark Faction. Under cover of thick fog, fifteen enemy Sio-Mi-Dori assault-landing antigravs entered our node from the forest and landed right at outpost thirty-four. And although they didn’t catch our soldiers completely off-guard, the battle didn’t last long. Outpost thirty-four has been lost, and along with it the whole Rainforest node. And that cuts off the Tropics and its garrison from the rest of our territory. But I’m afraid the bad news doesn’t end there...”

  The Major General wiped the perspiration from his forehead and continued, poorly hidden notes of panic slipping through:

  “Simultaneously, no less than three hundred Dark Faction soldiers disembarked a Geckho ferry on the German capital island, most of them wearing exoskeleton armor and carrying heavy weaponry. Our allies were caught completely by surprise. No one was expecting an attack on the distant island, so practically all H6 players who can hold a weapon were in our territory! The island has been captured and Dark Faction assault troops are shooting on sight any Germans that try to enter the game or respawn. And all that means...” Picking up for the speaker, Ivan Lozovsky finished:

  “It means we lost our six hundred allied soldiers. The H6 Faction took a huge hit to player capacity and is no longer capable of providing any manpower. Their maximum is now three hundred forty-eight, and they will need them to defend the two coastal nodes the H6 faction has left, which are at levels one and two.”

  Damn, damn, damn! Ivan Lozovsky was angry at himself and all the others. Now, after the fact, it dawned on him: how could they be so blind? Why had they made strong defenses on the border and just sat on their laurels? After all, they understood perfectly that General Ui-Taka was known in his world as an unrivalled tactician. And now, instead of pushing through all the mine fields and layered defense structures, he just landed a party deep in the rear, cutting off the only way south and basically taking the German faction out of the fight. Just one move, and the situation was gasp worthy!

  Without support, the Tropics node, cut off from the rest of the faction, would fall. And there were no less than fifty H3 players there, mostly just builders. Plus the Germans couldn’t hold their remaining hexagons. They would fall very quickly. Sending reinforcements south would mean calling off people and weakening the northern border with the Dark Faction, which was exactly what the enemy was expecting. Basically, to put it in chess terms, the H3 faction was in check and checkmate was not far off. At the very least, the faction leader didn’t see any good moves. No matter what he did or didn’t do, it would only get worse.

  “But how were they able to take the ferry?” came a unified cry of surprise and outrage from the curators. “The Geckho don’t interfere in their vassals’ conflicts!”

  “And they aren’t interfering,” the major general replied to all these objections. “Geckho Diplomat Kosta Dykhsh has already confirmed their neutrality. In his words, the Geckho merely transported some people who paid for a ticket. And the Diplomat reminded us that our faction has used the same ferry on a number of occasions to transport humans and freight, including troops and military supplies. And I suspect that transporting three hundred landing troops along with heavy weaponry and other supplies cost our enemies a pretty penny! It must have run them at least half a million crystals! Where did the Dark Faction get that kind of money?!”

  Ivan Lozovsky kept silent and lowered his head morosely. He knew perfectly well where they enemy got half a million crystals. He himself along with Gerd Tamara and a few other trusted players had handed it to a Dark Faction player as payment for the funeral bombing!

  Chapter One. A Talk with the Crew

  YOU STOP NOTICING the measured hum of spaceship engines after just half an hour underway. In fact, after a while, any change in their tone and you’re sure to be worried. The sound becomes a comfort, a sign that everything is working just fine. My Tolili-Ukh X frigate had successfully left the Medu-Ro IV pirate station and, after building speed, entered a hyperspace jump to the Miyelonian trade hub Kasti-Utsh III. No one came to meet us at the entrance to the station or followed us, which made me happy. I had calculated right, and the repair of my starship was over before the outraged Pride of the Bushy Shadow had returned with their fleet.

  The second the danger had passed, my business partner Uline Tar removed her space suit and went into her bunk, asking not to be disturbed. I knew what had my coarse-haired friend so bothered. Neither she nor I had any money left. All attempts to find shipments headed to the Miyelonian station ended in potential clients recoiling from us as if we were lepers. That was a direct consequence of Gnat’s reputation for piracy! Law-abiding captains didn’t want anything to do with me or my ship. Uline Tar was from an ancient house of space traders, which had earned a good reputation through many generations of hard work, so that bothered her quite a bit. How could we hope to trade if no respectable merchant would have anything to do with us?!

  And there was a creeping war between outworld vassal factions on the edge of the known Universe, which her human business partner was going to go fight in. War always meant big expenses. And Uline had seen the planet and its pitiful natives with her own eyes. Its primitive natives quite simply had nothing worth a Geckho trader’s while. So my furry friend had plenty of reason to be distraught.

  But there was nothing to be done, we just had to go to Kasti-Utsh III empty handed. And one reason we were going there was to buy ancient Relict artifacts on a tip from a Medu-Ro IV fence. But now I only had a foggy co
ncept of where I’d get the funds to purchase them. This Miyelonian trade hub was a place of law and order, where I couldn’t simply steal artifacts, even if they once did belong to members of my team and had been taken by force. Since that time, the items had changed hands at least three times, so there was no proving they were rightfully mine now. Oh well. I’d figure it out when I got there. Maybe I’d have some ideas.

  For now we had another four ummi in flight. That was approximately twenty-three hours in earth time. There was no sense hanging around on the bridge for that long, so I left Starship Pilot Dmitry Zheltov in charge and headed to a spacious room on the second deck which we had adapted into a lounge.

  The furniture was a bit sparse to say the least. There was just one flying table, which was kept in the middle of the room by gyroscopes on an antigravitational base and, around it, a dozen large and soft cushions on the floor. Today, our frigate was finally all fixed so I gave the crew some leave. I had ordered various delicacies from the station restaurant which the chef assured me were edible to most races, along with juices and light alcohol. But the crew, as far as I had seen, was being strangely timid and didn’t want to open the boxes of treats and drinks on the flying table. And instead of passing the time together, my crew had broken down into several distinct cliques.

  The brothers Basha and Vasha Tushihh, as usual in any free time, were neck deep in a game of Na-Tikh-U, moving starship pieces around the glimmering three-dimensional board and not inviting anyone to join. Eduard Boyko and Imran had changed out of their combat armor into tracksuits and, lying down near the walls, were alternating between endurance competitions and posing for the mysterious extraterrestrial girl Valeri. The only other member of the fairer sex was my wayedda Minn-O La-Fin, and I suppose my crew was not feeling suicidal enough to flirt with their captain’s wife. Valeri-Urla, meanwhile was whispering with her companion Denni Marko in the corner. I even had to fall back on my psionic abilities, which is how I found out that both of them were uncomfortable here in this alien pirate crew.

  The Miyelonians then were grouped up separately and engaged in some strange activity. Ayni, Tini and Orun Va-Mart, their paws and tails tucked beneath them, were sitting right on the bare metal-ceramic floor and making a sound somewhere between singing and whining. All three of them had their eyes closed and their paws held out and touching. I had no idea what kind of mystery or rite this might be, but I was afraid to interrupt, because it may have been significant to Miyelonians.

  At the other end of the large room was Supercargo Avan Toi. He was lying languidly on a cushion, which was barely visible beneath his corpulent body and carrying on a conversation with Ayukh the Navigator about what was happening on the fronts of the great space war. That I could tell with my good Perception alone. I wanted to know more, so I walked up and plopped down next to them, immediately and gratefully accepting a glass of a light alcoholic cocktail from Kirsan the repair bot, who was handing out drinks. Only after that, the two Geckho turned to the Mechanoid repair bot and also took a glass with each of their large hands.

  “Well, what’s the news on the war?” I asked, taking a sip of the refreshing beverage. Both Geckho were eager to tell me:

  “Captain, the Geckho base on Un-Tesh has fallen, there was a very brief story about it in the news. No details. We have no idea if it’s been captured or destroyed. We also don’t know the fate of the Geckho who were there.”

  “Ayukh, you know as well as I that the Meleyephatian horde never takes prisoners. It goes against their customs!” the gloomy Supercargo reproached the sheepish Navigator. “Even with their brothers’ lives on the line, the Meleyephatians would never trade prisoners. They kill all captured enemies without exception.”

  Alright then, I didn’t know that. I’d take it into account. That meant it was no use surrendering to these intelligent spider-like creatures — it would mean death regardless. Apparently we were extremely lucky with our last-minute escape from Un-Tesh!

  “So that means we’ve traded systems,” Avan Toi continued, thinking out loud. “The Geckho captured the Meleyephatian base Ursa-II-II, the enemy did the same with the base on Un-Tesh. Just think! So many starships destroyed, so many soldiers dead, and that includes some who will now never respawn. But the political situation is practically unchanged. So I ask, what exactly were we fighting for? Who wanted this war?”

  “You can say that again! Still, I suppose the Miyelonians have gained something,” Ayukh pointed his broad, clawed hand at our three fluffy crew members, who were still sitting on the floor with their eyes closed and chanting. “Their Leng Keetsie-Myau, beloved fleet commander, just waited for the Geckho and Meleyephatians to tie each other up, and easily captured two Meleyephatian star systems.”

  “You’re writing the Geckho off too early!” I came, trying to play on their patriotic feelings and support the flagging conversation about interstellar politics. “Do you really think Kung Waid Shishish’s Second Strike Fleet won’t send reinforcements from the central systems? There’s just one fleet there, and its badly damaged after the battle.”

  “Well...” Avan Toi lowered his voice to a whisper, “I’ve heard rumors to that effect. They say Fleet Commander Kung Waid Shishish reined in his pride and made a request to the capital for reinforcements.”

  Other crew members started coming up. Vasha and Basha finished their games and, dragging some cushions over, plunked down next to us and refused drinks from Kirsan. The old and wise loader brothers didn’t enter the conversation, but they did open one box of food and offer it to the others. I ended up with a skewer of blue spheres with some sweet juice dripping off them. They weren’t exotic fruits or berries, as you might expect either, but... I really didn’t know what they were. I couldn’t even tell if they came from a plant or an animal. Nevertheless they were tasty, so I reached for another.

  Our athletes walked up then too, engaged in a discussion about protein diets. Neither Eduard nor Imran drank alcohol, but they didn’t say no to juices and food. Minn-O La-Fin walked up. My wife looked around, couldn’t find any free cushions and sat on mine, not at all ashamed to push me a bit aside. I didn’t argue and moved. The Princess was slowly coming to life after all the physical and psychological trauma she had borne in the real world. That made me very glad. Finally she was back to the Minn-O I first met, proud, confident and accustomed to a special privileged role in any team.

  Successful Perception check!

  “Hey, wait! That was mine!” Half a minute earlier, I saw one of the skewers suddenly disappear from the flying table. And now, at the very last moment, I jerked my unfinished skewer away from the invisible, inconsiderate thief and the Shadow Panther’s fanged jaws slammed shut on thin air. I gave a prompt bop of my palm to her invisible nose, which clearly took Little Sister aback because she thought no one could see her. That made her mad, so she went visible and, twitching her tail in dismay, went to complain to her master Valeri about how greedy and inconsiderate their captain was. I looked at the dangerous predator from behind. A huge panther with luxuriant silvery-white fur, she weighed at least four hundred pounds. And she was fast, deadly, and capable of turning invisible. Little Sister could easily kill a person with one swipe of her clawed paw, but still I didn’t sense any danger. To her we were in the same pack now, and thus I was off limits. What an awesome and intelligent big cat!

  Meanwhile, the conversation about the Geckho going to war with the Meleyephatians gradually shifted to allies. Cleopians, Esthetes, Humans, Jargs... Of all the Geckho allies the wise Ayukh told me about, I’d only heard of half. And when he turned to the Meleyephatian horde, I was completely out of my depth. Some kind of Crystallids, Psio, Dharki, Antites, Dendrids, Tailaxian Humans... Wait! Tailaxians? So Tailax was a Meleyephatian subject? But we had a Tailaxian on board!

  As if sensing that I was thinking about her, Valeri-Urla stopped talking with Denni and raised her huge eyes, which looked more fit for a night creature than a person. I asked her to come closer and sh
e did but not alone. Her companion Denni Marko, who the system said belonged to the Gilvar Syndicate Faction, came too. Okay then, all the better. I extended the panther’s master a whole box of the juicy blue spheres her pet just attempted to steal and asked both new crew members to tell me about themselves.

  “Why you that needing want, Gnat?” Denni, as always, was surly, and his proficiency in Geckho had not improved. “We in you team, yes. We is to do you order, that is more than enough to be enough.”

  I just shrugged my shoulders indefinitely. So, how could I explain my curiosity about the other human factions?

  “I have just fifteen human crew members on this frigate, including myself. That is a very small number. As captain, I want my small team to come together. I want us to understand, trust and help one another. I want us to be bound together by more than a formal work relationship. I wouldn’t say I want us to be one big family, that’s too much. But still I don’t want us to be complete strangers either.”

  Psionic skill increased to level seventy-three!

  I didn’t manage it without a bit of magic. A few of the crew members were just too hard to reach. But I did what I set out to do, and that was what mattered.

  “Okay then, why is not to talking you?” Denni dropped the idiotic stubbornness and, walking over to get cushions for himself and his pretty companion, started talking. Before he made it too far though, hoping greatly that I wouldn’t offend him by doing so, I asked Kirsan to hand Denni the universal translator. Thankfully, that made the Bodyguard’s speech smooth and comprehensible:

  “Denni Marko. Born on Farunji, the largest planet of the Gilvar Syndicate. I graduated from a military school on the same planet. I fought in the Ninth Syndicate war, and was honorably discharged after an injury. Then I worked in the Quarantine Service for a long time. Our purpose was to safeguard primordial planet ζ-Reaper from black-marketeers, slavers and headhunters. And that was where I met Valeri. She first showed up on the Quarantine Service radar as an unauthorized visitor,” he said, pointing to his companion. “Just one look at her was enough to see her Tailaxian origin. And Tailax is a hundred parsecs from Zeta Reaper. What was more, Valeri had strange abilities. She was not afraid to be surrounded by deadly animals, healed dangerous creatures and rode them, even though the sky. But most importantly, she carried a blaster. And that was on a primitive planet, where the upper limit of technology was supposed to be bronze blades.”