“The candidates, by which I mean you three, had to meet certain criteria as demanded by the Games Masters. The trouble is, the probe had to select candidates at random, and I’m afraid you three were it.” Hubunker made a coughing noise, possibly clearing its throat. “I had little involvement in the selection process.”
“So, you paid for three random people to be kidnapped?” Jessica asked.
“To represent your people in a game of inter-galactic importance is a grand honour and not something I would have considered a kidnapping. Perhaps it's best you understood that for all our sakes. Much of the remaining funds I have I used to purchase your soldiers. I have little currency left and my fortunes rest with your successes or failures. Ammon, did you not inform them of these things?"
Ammon bowed his head. "We had little time, master."
"Stop calling me, master." Hubunker shook its four eye stalks back and forth in what looked like an imitation of a human shaking his head. "Such a dour fellow. Ah, but where are my manners? Please, tell me about yourselves."
***
“Ah, good, good,” Hubunker said after hearing their stories. “So the probe has done well, I see.” Hubunker cleared his throat and turned towards Jessica. “A martial artist? Hmm, and a historian? Not sure about you but you had a satisfactory command in the first game. I shall have to review the recordings.” He turned to Georgy as if brushing her away. “Mr Alatort, have you played many non-static games? Think-on-your-feet quickness?”
“Depends on what you mean, but ten-second chess can really keep you on your toes.”
Hubunker nodded “You may have some potential, especially with the planning stages for the second game.”
A little annoyed at being brushed aside, Jessica interrupted. “I majored in ancient battle strategies and tactics, most of which are still in use by the military today."
“Yes, yes, of that I have no doubt.” Hubunker said, “Both of you should do well. Burning my friend's soldiers was a tad ill-considered, perhaps, but the wasp-people assure me there are no hard feelings. Now,” Hubunker turned its eyes on Peter, "you, sir. Ammon's praise is very high of your quick-mindedness! I saw some of it on my way here; marvellous job! Excellent use of the cavalry, where did you learn such tricks? You are not of Earth's militaries, just a... a what?"
"Theoretical physicist."
"Ah, science type; to study nature instead of being taught it must be wonderful. Much of what you learn is already known among the factions of the Everworld, but I cannot fathom more than a drop of that ocean. You must have some special mind to work in that stuff; little wonder you have such command of troops on the field!"
"I tell the demons to do something and they do it; and forget morale." He looked at Jessica. "These demons just don't care about dying."
"Why do they look like... demons?" Georgy asked, "I can't imagine our predecessors took too well to how they looked."
Ammon smiled while shaking his head.
Hubunker ignored Ammon." I fashioned them in this way to be similar to your body shape, so you would know their basic capabilities. The red skin is to match your team’s colours. Their resemblance to your ‘demons’ is a coincidence that I was not aware of. This did present... issues for your predecessors, but you don't seem to have the same qualms." The creature clapped its hands, satisfied at its explanation.
"How long do we have until the next game?" Georgy asked.
"Two days."
CHAPTER SIX
"I need all the most recent recordings of the Plinths' battles, specifically those battles in the arena we’ll be fighting in. I need a psychological profile on each of the enemy commanders. I need a detailed map of the battlefield and its victory conditions." Georgy was sweating, thinking of all the preparations they would need in less than two days.
"Very good," Ammon said, "we will supply you with these resources."
"An interesting character," Hubunker said to Jessica and Peter while they watched Georgy work at a table in the ship's main hall. Ammon stood next to Georgy and holographic images popped into and out of existence all around them. "He reminds me of some previous competitors from Earth, all business-like, very professional unlike you two; you’re so... emotional."
"He's worried," Peter said while leaning over the observation deck's railing.
"He should be! Since your first game, more eyes will be turned to your team for the second game. The stakes are raised. You fight the Plinth in two days!"
"No, I think he's worried about his dogs," Jessica said, "I'm worried about my parents. We've been gone from our homes for a couple of days now."
"Your absence being noticed is unlikely," Hubunker told them. "Don't you remember what you agreed to when my probe negotiated your entry into the games? I could show you the conversation if you like."
"No thanks," Jessica shook her head, feeling her eyes tear up. "I don't remember much at all. I can't imagine what my friends and family are thinking right now."
Hubunker looked Jessica up and down with two of his eye-stalks while still watching Georgy below. "I can see you are rather upset, Jessica Stanner. A curious choice for the probe to have made. I do not believe, as you may think, that you were chosen by the probe to lead the first game. While I would have liked to use Peter as our second in command for the next game, he was already assigned that role by Ammon for the first. Hmm," Hubunker brought a hand to his lips and started pulling at his wide mouth.
"Well, I'm hungry and tired. Mind if we find some food?" Peter asked.
"I do not mind, let us three gain some sustenance and we will talk of Earth. The probe gathered vast amounts of information while it was scouting but I have little time to assimilate it all and I prefer to hear it from the cat's mouth."
"You mean the horse's mouth?"
"Horses can talk?" Hubunker asked before burping.
***
The image of a Plinth filled half his vision as it stalked across an ash-filled battlefield from a recording several centuries ago. In the corner of his eye Georgy noticed Hubunker and his fellow humans leaving the observation platform. "Tell me, Ammon, what is the significance of fire? Why is it so upsetting?"
"Mr Alatort, have you been burnt to death before?"
"We’re dealing in demons, not real people. Why does it matter?"
Ammon sighed and wiped his face with his hand. "Mostly, it is tradition. Since before Hubunker was granted Trustee status over humanity, before the great Pyramids were built, it was poor sportsmanship to use too much fire. The first games were once fought between fully sentient combatants who preferred a swift death over the fear of flames. It's also a little harder to repair soldiers if they are burnt."
"We don't lose any points for using fire, though. If it pisses them off, we could use it to our advantage."
"No, you don’t lose points..." Ammon raised an eyebrow at Georgy, "but the political consequences could be severe."
"How so?"
Ammon sighed again and looked towards the ceiling, exasperated, "Never have I been asked to give a lesson in Everworld politics."
"Well, you're telling me politics affects the games. I want to know how."
***
She heard voices.
The room was dark when she woke up. Her mouth was dry and tasted foul from the broth she'd eaten while recounting Earth’s history to Hubunker. She thought she could smell bile. It was always light when she woke up, but, this time, the only light came from the red-rimmed doorway to the main hall. She looked around the dim room and saw Georgy and Peter asleep on their form-fitting mattresses. Georgy snored quietly, and Peter's white pony-tail rose and fell on his belly.
Where are the voices? she thought. She sat up. There, they were coming from the main hall. Quietly, without disturbing the others, she crept out onto the observation deck. The voices got louder, and she could make out different syllables in alien tongues. Why isn't the ship's translator working? she thought. When she reached the observation platform, she peered down at a
small group of creatures bathed in the red lights of ship's night time. Hubunker and Ammon were addressing six other aliens, one of whom seemed to be of the same species as Hubunker. A wasp-man was among them as well as a couple of metre-high robotic spiders, a giant bat, and two stick-thin humanoid figures twice Jessica's height.
Hubunker burped and barked, the wasp-man rubbed its arms together to whistle and the bat barked a reply that made her jump. She could hear Ammon's grating tones but could not make out the words, he was speaking his native language. There seemed to be some tension in the group, it was hard to tell. It was the strangest conversation she had ever witnessed.
After a few minutes the visitors started filing out of the large hall into one of the side rooms where Jessica knew a shuttle would be. Ammon turned around and saw her watching them. "Come down, Jessica," he said as if to a frightened child. One of Hubunker's eye-stalks looked at Ammon and then at the observation platform.
"Yes, come Jessica, you no doubt have some questions," Hubunker waved off the last of the visitors with one hand and beckoned to her at the same time with his other. White liquid shot out of the observation platform, cascading down to the floor of the hall, solidifying into the shape of steps.
"Wow," Jessica mouthed while moving down the stairs. To Hubunker, she said, "Who were they, your visitors?"
"An assortment of like-minded individuals, allies you might call them. Backers, investors, creditors. We form something of a web of support."
"So, they're your friends? Just them?"
"Remember some respect, child," Ammon warned her.
"She is only curious, Ammon. Yes, friends of a sort. They, in turn, have many other friends among them, many individuals of great influence who are sympathetic to my cause."
Jessica frowned. "Cause? What exactly are you trying to achieve?”
"Control of the Everworld, of course. The power to say how the world and its many resources are used."
"Oh. That sounds ambitious..."
"Come, sit," Hubunker motioned with one hand and a table with three seats formed from the floor. "None of us today, none of our allies or the Plinth or anyone else, have the smallest inkling of why the Everworld was built, and it is likely that the Everworld will exist far into the future after we are all gone. There are many theories as to why it was built, one of which states that to survive some future calamity the races of this galaxy and those around us must band together to find the greatest minds. This is done through the games, to sharpen minds, to further creativity and preparedness for potential challenges in the future. Those races that do well are rewarded. Those that are unbeaten? They control how the games are run.”
“That seems a little unfair,” commented Jessica.
“That's the problem - The system is stagnant, those at the top, such as the Plinth, make the rules. Minnow races, such as humans, are given high barriers to entry so that they cannot compete. There is no creativity anymore. I am trying to break this stagnation and end these games for good, to seek better means of creativity and the strengthening of minds."
"Why not just give other races like humans these 'gifts' yourselves?"
"The reigning authorities would not allow it, it would hinder their power here. If that were done, the Plinth would have your race wiped out at the first opportunity and have you branded cheaters. It has been tried before by others. Ha! There is too much potential for this world to be wasted on war games. There is still so much we could learn of the universe, ah but these matters should not concern you, your future lies in the games themselves and the glory they hold." Jessica thought she heard a touch of sarcasm.
“So why were your friends here?"
Ammon cleared his throat, "Perhaps we—"
"No, my friend, one more question will not hurt. Mr Alatort requested some rather sensitive information in the preparation of your next wargame. This information is difficult to come by and while not illegal to obtain, there is a great deal of hoop-jumping to slide through."
"Hoop-jumping?”
"Indeed, the Plinth will be quite upset if they knew we had obtained detailed plans of the next battlefield and psychological profiles of their commanders. I adore Mr Alatort’s thinking! Fire, burning! Haha! He will advance my plans more than I could have imagined...” Hubunker hiccupped and held his stomach; Jessica smelled mouldy cheese on his breath. “If you can win, that is. Perhaps, Jessica, it is time for you to sleep now. There is a lot of material to cover, and Mr Alatort will require what aid you can give him, once you’re well rested. Goodnight."
"Goodni—" she was cut off by a buzzing sound. One of the ship's multi-coloured probes dropped from an opening in the ceiling and sung at her with blue fire. Pleasant perfume filled her nose and her limbs went limp.
CHAPTER SEVEN
"Did you sleep at all in the last two days?" Peter asked Georgy as the Inveigled Ambassador and its small flotilla of black shuttles descended towards the waiting battlefield, "I swear you were drilling the poor devils non-stop."
Georgy snorted, "How could I have slept with such snoring from yourself? I'm a sailor, an officer of the Russian Navy; I can do without sleep for quite some time."
"Still, you sure you won't fall asleep while tanks are rolling towards us?" Peter asked with a grin."Should we have one of the shield-bearers pull a coffee cart around behind you? You're looking a little dark under those eyes."
"Ha, I'm old and fat, Dorn, not tired."
Jessica ignored them and looked over the equipment their team would be bringing to the battle. Most of the soldiers and equipment were in the shuttles, assigned to land in different areas instead of all together as they did in the first battle, but there was still plenty to gawk at in the Inveigled Ambassador's main hall.
They had a sea-going warship. Taking up half the hall's length, the 115-metre vessel was immense inside Hubunker's ship. It had been delivered by the Game Masters mere hours earlier, matching specifications chosen by Georgy a day ago. The warship would be used in the opening stages of the battle. Once the sea battle took place, a land invasion by the victor would follow. The bow of the destroyer-class ship towered above her and she felt claustrophobic underneath the metallic weight.
Jessica was concerned about Georgy's choice of weapons. Arrayed along the walls of the hall were row upon row of incendiary grenades and Molotov cocktails. The battle-ship was mostly loaded with incendiary shells, and she'd seen primitive flame throwers being carried onto the shuttles alongside small tanks and basic rockets. What is he doing, pissing off the Plinth like this? she thought to herself. Ammon had not been happy to hear of Georgy's choice of weaponry but had been overruled by Hubunker.
"We are almost there, commanders," Ammon said. "Remember this: the Plinth are ruthless masters of battle. They have won more games than all the wars ever fought on Earth. You defeated the wasp-men, our Trustee’s allies, and by defeating you, the Plinth seek to humiliate our allies. Fight well, for even in defeat there is honour and points to be won."
***
The arena was far larger this time.
Jessica almost laughed. She felt hysterical, scared, amused; she wasn't really sure. She was in the captain's chair of the destroyer, facing down a much larger enemy ship and a small fleet of troop carriers behind it. “Chase the splashes Jessica,” Georgy had instructed. “Don't worry; they're not used to this sort of warfare.” Well neither am I, she thought and clung tightly to her chair while the ship swung in almost forty-five-degree arcs.
Chase the shots... Every time the Plinth battleship fired its much longer-ranged guns at Jessica's destroyer and hit the water, her demons would steer towards the splashes. By the time they reached the splash the Plinth crews had re-targeted at a shorter range, trying to predict where Jessica’s destroyer would be. It seemed to be working so far.
It would be a couple of kilometres before the human destroyer could fire with any sort of accuracy and by the time they could fire, the Plinth would be able to bring their own shorter ranged guns to
bear. They'd made it this far though, surviving twenty minutes of gut-wrenching turns to close the distance.
The Plinth were using soldiers identical to their own genetic makeup, saving huge amounts of points. They considered themselves the perfect soldiers. Up to a third of the human team's points for the battle were used up in the demons themselves, so they were already at a disadvantage. Georgy had to cut costs somehow, which meant an inferior fleet. He'd clearly expected the destroyer to be defeated and had thoughtfully told Jessica to put a wetsuit and scuba-diving gear on.
The oxygen and nitrogen tanks currently sitting on her back chafed and twisted her back every time the ship violently swung from side to side. She heard a whistling sound before water splashed half a ship's length in front of them and fresh-water sprayed over the ship, carried over them by a strong breeze. A few drops splashed against the bridge's forward windows and Jessica flinched. "They almost hit us that time."
"Stay calm, Jessica. Are you in range yet?" Georgy asked from back on land, almost twenty kilometres away.
"Shit!" She almost hit her head when the demon at the wheel made a random turn. "We there yet?" she yelled. The demon manning the range finder nodded at her. "Yeah, we're in range," she replied.
"Okay, they've probably worked out what you're doing. Have your sailors move in the opposite direction to the shots. It won't work for long, but you should be able to get a good salvo off, maybe slow them down."
Another splash sprayed the side of the ship and she almost fell out of the chair from the demon's manoeuvring. "I really wish you had put the torpedoes on the front of the ship."
Jessica could almost hear Georgy shake his head. "No point. Just start firing the incendiaries." She groaned but gave the order to fire their first salvo. When another enemy shell splashed down behind the ship, she ordered the demons to stop dodging and level out the destroyer to give the gunners a steady position to fire from. Demons on the deck then cranked the ship's main turret to a higher elevation and swivelled towards the distant target.
Wargames of the Everworld Page 4
