Web of Worlds

by Michael Atamanov

  “Impressive!” the Miyelonian said when I’d finished my speech. “Very impressive in fact. Well Gerd Gnat, I accept your offer. And I also invite you to join me in celebration!”

  The grandiose white cat, wearing nothing but a pair of miniature shorts, came down from the huge mound of pillows. With a careless gesture of her clawed paw, she sent her favorites back to their seats at the foot of the “throne,” then accepted a long transparent glass of cocktail from my hand.

  Chapter Seven. After the Ball

  I WAS SO messed up... I couldn’t tell what time it was, where I was, or even whether I was in the game or the real world. I knew only one thing: I felt very bad! My whole body hurt, every joint, every cell of my body was sending pain signals to my brain. It even felt like my hair hurt. My head was splitting, my thoughts were muddled, it took effort to think. In fact, it was unbelievably hard to crack an eye, because the light caused searing pain...

  Successful Perception check.

  And meanwhile next to me was — I could feel someone else breathing on my painfully sensitive skin. It took a couple tries, but I eventually managed to unstick my eyelids. There was something big, alive and furry next to me. And it was moving! I strained enormously, focused my gaze and finally saw. It was Uline Tar.

  Eagle Eye skill increased to level seventy-two!

  Seeing the system messages flickering past, I realized I was in the game! And to me at that moment, that thought seemed like the pinnacle of Intelligence. At the same, it dawned on me that I was sleeping in the same bed as an alien woman. That meant I was in the game and I could have realized without any system messages. Just a bit later, I looked at the mini-map and saw my health bar down in the red zone, and my endurance and mana approaching zero. Real smart guy I was! I kept finding more and more evidence I was in the game, but I was so used to it all none of it gave me pause. Damn! It really was scary to start to perceive a virtual game as my main world. From here, it really wasn’t a long trip to the nuthouse...

  I gathered my will into a fist, opened an eye wider and tried to look around. Where was I? It seemed like a familiar place. Oh yeah, this was my captain’s quarters! But why was I here, and wearing only my underwear? Where was my Listener armor??? I got so worried my heart just about jumped out of my chest, but I quickly discovered my things in my inventory. When and how did I get to sleep? I didn’t remember... The last thing peeking up from my glitchy memory was that I was at a noisy party with lots of Miyelonians having fun around me. I felt good. I was drinking. I had lots of different drinks and no food at all. I seemed to even remember dancing, but that memory was very foggy indeed. I even remembered smoking something, although in the real world I’d never even tried the very mildest electronic cigarette...

  “How... did I get here?” my throat was dry, it was hard to speak, but my business partner heard and leaned in.

  “Gerd Gnat, the repair bots brought you here. All three Kirsans suddenly dashed away to the station, then dragged your senseless body back here. One of them, the white one, explained through the universal translator that the captain summoned them to come pick him up.”

  “Please Uline, please be quieter! My head is just humming...”

  The trader heeded my request and started speaking in what she deemed to be a whisper, although all the same the words of the huge furry woman sounded like an alarm bell:

  “I got you undressed and put you to sleep, because you were in no state to handle your armor and were complaining that there were too many messages going by and you couldn’t read them fast enough.”

  “Thanks, Uline,” I whispered and closed my eyes. The light was still searing.

  “Oh its nothing...” my huge furry friend called back. Sitting on a fold-out table, she gave a sad chuckle: “The Geckho say someone ‘drank with Miyelonians’ to mean they’re looking weak and beat-up. The phrase is usually used figuratively, but in your case it is quite literal. Didn’t you know, human, that Miyelonians have a different metabolism? Alcohol has a lower effect on them and doesn’t last long. You need Constitution twenty-five at least to drink with Miyelonians if not thirty!”

  I let her lessons go in one ear and out the other. I was trying to think. So the repair bots hauled me back to the ship. Most likely I summoned them, even though I now didn’t have even a near appreciation of how I did it, especially at such a distance. The metal Mechanics accepted the order and, from the Kirsans’ viewpoint, my body really did need repair because it was totally nonfunctioning. I tried to picture the three metal millipedes dragging a piss-drunk Listener through the whole space station and felt ill. Thousands of Miyelonians would have seen that. How embarrassing! Seemingly I said that out loud because the Geckho woman added:

  “Yes, many saw you. It was even on the local news. And four soldiers of the elite First Pride escorted you to keep you safe,” Uline seemingly decided to try and get to me with bad news.

  The First Pride escorted me? Only the fleet commander could order her personal guard to do something like that. So that meant Keetsie-Myau had seen me in that unresponsive state. Wait! Keetsie-Myau. Permission to leave. Horror gripped me again. Had I even managed to ask the Great One the very question that made me seek a meeting with the influential Miyelonian in the first place? My heart aflutter, I asked my business partner.

  “Yes, Gerd Gnat. You were given permission to leave the station. The frigate is ready for takeoff right now. Dmmmitry is in the pilot’s seat ready to go. We’re just waiting for some courier who is supposed to pick up a special delivery for Leng Keetsie.”

  “What?” I was still thinking groggily and missing the obvious.

  “That crystal you dragged to the ship and which Ayukh is now guarding. Our Navigator, by the way, did manage to copy the data to our on-board computer. And now, panting in delight, he is immersed in studying the map. In his words, such a complete and detailed map of the known galaxy is a real treasure!”

  Uline fell silent and spent a long time staring attentively at me. Then she asked compassionately:

  “Gnat, you don’t look so hot. Should we call the Medic?”

  “Medic?” in my surprise I even unstuck an eye.

  “There’s a lean Miyelonian sitting alone on his bags right next to the ship. I don’t understand Miyelonian, so Ayni Translator has been talking to him. The Medic told her that you invited him. But Eduwward won’t let him on the starship without your confirmation. There’s also a Jarg sitting at the gangway waiting for you. Gerd Ayni also talked to him, and she just happens to speak Jarg.”

  Jarg? I had only met one Jarg before in my life: the level-52 Analyst with an unpronounceable name. She must have been talking about him. No, I didn’t want to see the Jarg yet. I just didn’t want to explain why such a valuable package hadn’t yet reached its destination and had now been opened and ruined. But I did ask for the Medic.

  Gerd Mauu-La Mya-Ssa appeared in my cabin a few minutes later, pushing a huge levitating suitcase which resembled a coffin in shape and size. I hoped he was wrong and my condition wasn’t hopeless. Meanwhile the orange doctor anchored the flying coffin in my bunk and, opening one of the sides, pulled out a whole bunch of wires twisted into a spiral and ending in suction cup contacts. Not saying a word, the Miyelonian gracefully stuck them to my temples, forehead and neck then picked up a remote and quickly typed a command.

  A light buzz rang out in my head. It was somewhat unpleasant but, in comparison with the ghastly hangover, almost unnoticeable. In four seconds the Medic made a diagnosis:

  “Severe alcohol intoxication complicated by general exhaustion and allergies to several components of a recently-consumed psychotropic of plant origin.”

  Gerd Mauu-La Mya-Ssa wrapped a bracelet on my wrist, clearly to measure my blood pressure and pulse all the while telling me off in strong terms:

  “Gerd Gnat, are you not aware that the purple and green sticks you smoked are fatal to fully eleven different space races? To a human, as I’m seeing now, they are not deadly b
ut still extremely toxic. I suspect that a serious debuff to Hitpoints and Endurance will be unavoidable for the next several days. You can see the precise numbers in your character information page. I can mitigate the effect but not completely eliminate it.”

  I didn’t understand what he was talking about right away, what tab of the game menu to open and what exactly to look at. But unfortunately, Gerd Mauu-La Mya-Ssa was right:

  Narcotic intoxication!!!

  Maximum number of Hitpoints reduced by 63%.

  Maximum number of Endurance Points reduced by 70%.

  Maximum number of Magic Points increased by 240%.

  Regeneration speed for Hitpoints and Endurance Points reduced by 90%.

  Regeneration speed for Magic Points increased by 67%.

  Constitution reduced by 4 points.

  Agility reduced by 3 points.

  Duration: 76 hours 11 minutes 18 seconds.

  Woah... I had three days of weakness ahead of me... That was some very unpleasant news, especially considering that I would have to join the fight in nine or ten hours and provide firing points from orbit. Might it be easier to kill myself and respawn in fifteen minutes with full health? But my progress bar to level seventy-seven was already more than ninety percent full. I really didn’t want to die and lose that progress.

  Meanwhile the Medic was checking his palmtop, probably reading about human anatomy. He opened his flying coffin and took out a pneumatic syringe. Professionally and painlessly, he gave me three shots in a vein on my left arm, a neck artery and my right shoulder. A few seconds later, the headache was gone, my health bar was slowly climbing up and I got the feeling that life was gonna be just fine. There was no need to kill myself! Nevertheless, Gerd Mauu-La asked me to lie down for a bit:

  “You might experience slight disorientation, and abrupt movements will cause discomfort. But in just a quarter ummi, the sensations will be tolerable,” the Miyelonian promised as he stashed tools in his levitating case, then asked me where to find his bunk.

  I called Uline Tar in from the hallway and asked her to register the Medic with our crew. Thankfully she was already there to keep watch over my treatment. Only after that I made up my mind and asked the Medic if he deserted from the army. After all, an ummi and a half ago he was an official soldier! The orange Miyelonian grew sincerely offended and, his fur puffed out, removed a silver chain with a plastic card from his neck:

  “Here are my documents, go ahead and check! By order from command, I was transferred from active service to the reserves. My status now is ‘civilian.’“

  Apologizing for the mistrust, I sent the new Medic after Uline to officially sign up on my frigate. At the same time, I called Gerd Ayni to help them understand each other.

  When Uline had gone, I put on my Listener Energy Armor. I was thankfully feeling much better and, in the game, fully suiting up took only a few seconds of simply dragging the items into the proper slots. I didn’t even have to get out of bed.

  No, I was not going to break doctor’s orders and skip my prescribed bedrest. But I did want to get to the bottom of what Uline said about me having problems with the Relict armor and saying I couldn’t read the messages. What messages? And why so many all of a sudden? My armor was showing various words and messages on the inside of the helmet. They were the kind that normally referred to stat changes, but those were quite rare and the suit never just spammed me without good reason.

  So I’d have to spin back through all the messages from before, which thankfully were saved. Around an ummi and a half ago. Right from here, right after the battle with the three Miyelonians. What happened next?

  A few Authority drops. That was easy to understand. I started talking with Keetsie, which her subjects didn’t like. Another drop in Authority, but a boost to Fame. And another Authority drop, this time by three points. What was this?! What caused it that time? Although... I had a vague memory of a sharp fall when I grabbed the Great One by her wrist and pulled her to the dancefloor, where quite a few Miyelonian couples were already spinning around. Leng Keetsie was clearly upset by that and, to my eye, even wanted to escape at first. But then she made up her mind, grinned happily and came with me. My Fame grew by two whole points! Nevertheless! My Psionic and Mysticism went up by one each, and Mental Fortitude by a whole three. Clearly, I had been using magic or mentally communicating. My Authority went up, finally! I also got a boost to Astrolinguistics. I guess I’d learned many new phrases and choice expressions. And seemingly the Great One found out the package had been opened and ruined...

  That moment unexpectedly flickered up in my memory. I was holding my dance partner in an embrace and was extremely concentrated, trying to catch the rhythm and watching the other dancing couples. I can say with no false modesty, that I didn’t do such a bad job either. Keetsie then, wholeheartedly giving herself to the music and dance, was clearly enjoying the moment. But the Great One, not at all hiding the fact that she was a strong psionic and Truth Seeker spoke her mind mentally:

  “...sure, the star map is important too, but it’s just a small part of the valuable information. The most important stuff was kept in other sections and files. Blueprints for Meleyephatian ships and new secret weapons, logistics schemes, military plans, commander lists and their real-life identities, reserves of strategic materials and production outputs... And lots of other stuff. Let me tell you a secret, this war only got started after we got the chance to get this invaluable information from our deeply embedded agent! Who could have thought handing it to us would turn out this way? Do you have any idea, Gerd Gnat, that this was the largest failure of Miyelonian intelligence in... I’m having a hard time even saying how many tongs! It might be that there has never been something like this in the whole history of my race!”

  I remembered being shocked by that and tried to awkwardly justify myself, which made my dance partner start reassuring me:

  “No, no Gerd Gnat. You’re least of all to blame for what happened. You were chosen precisely because we knew you’d open the package. The middleman chose that delivery method and courier with good reason. He clearly wanted the data to be lost. If you see that Jarg, kill him! That is my order! And actually...” here Leng Keetsie sharply changed topic and squeezed tight up against me, even placing her big-eared head on my shoulder. After that a wave of messages came in about my Authority falling, “I’m very glad you pulled me out here for a dance!”

  I couldn’t exactly understand what was making the Miyelonian so happy, but Leng Keetsie-Myau easily read that question in my thoughts and answered it:

  “You can’t even imagine, human, how mad my favorites are right now! They’re ready to eat you alive, but wouldn’t dare touch you with even a claw without my permission. Let this be a lesson to them! Their depressive milieu has needed stirring up for a while now. Just imagine, I have twenty admirers in my inner circle and around fifty in the second. They’re always engaging in intrigue and fights with other pretenders, trying to earn maybe not even my good favor, they’re all quite far from that, but at least my attention. And here comes a person from outside and immediately gets closer to me than they even dream of! I am grateful to you! You deserve a reward for your bravery. Let me guess... Hee hee hee. Don’t think so frankly, although its nice to know you like me. All your problems in your distant homeworld. Don’t worry so much! Of course I’ll allow your ship to leave right after one of my favorites comes to get that star map. Okay, I know what you really want! In half a tong, when your home planet is no longer untouchable, your people don’t have to worry about an invasion from the Miyelonian fleet! I promise you that as its commander!”

  Now there was a reward! I wasn’t even dreaming of that! Instantly, I was in seventh heaven! Humanity in my person had managed to secure a guarantee of untouchability for Earth from one of the most influential and powerful space races in this part of the galaxy! Here the dance ended and I went after Keetsie for another cocktail. And that is what they call misjudging your own strength. “A
workplace accident,” to quote a very famous movie...[1]

  After that came many messages about failed Constitution checks, which wasn’t exactly surprising. Then a successful Perception check and the Machine Control skill went up. Clearly, I managed to come to my senses for a brief instant and called a “ride home.” Then my Fame went up again. That must have been while was being carried through the station. That was all clear, but as for the further messages... here I sharply shot up, because there was a big chunk of text:

  Listener! In the most recent period, your share of data transmitted to the Pyramid was 42.17% An unbelievable result! The Relict hierarchs are proud of you! From this point forward, your Energy Armor may accept level-2 modifications. You have unlocked the back slot for additional accessories and an additional drone slot.

  Searching for available units…

  Searching for available units…

  ...

  Searching for available units…

  The message was repeated three hundred times. I even got a bit peeved, swiping through screens of identical text. And as I did, I was trying to figure out where the Pyramid was getting the other 57.83% data. Were there still Relicts in the game? No Listeners, given the game told me I was unique, but what about other classes? Or was the data coming from ancient satellites and autonomous drones, drifting through very deep space? Or perhaps the most recent period had lasted one thousand years and the others were already long dead. I had no answers. But then came a final message after the laundry list of identical messages. And it really threw me for a loop: