Treachery (The Terra Trials Book 1)

by Dan Thomas

  Jag hit their flank just seconds after, unleashing a constant stream of laser projectiles as he danced in between the crossfire. As if following a command, the mechs defending the base broke ranks and rolled, stomped, and hovered over the ground filled with the carnage of destroyed machines, raining down shots of energy, explosives, and plasma at the invaders.

  “You’ve got the best seat in the house to watch this battle, but how about you get in there!” Sam yelled through the earpiece, making Max jump a little.

  He nodded. “On it!”

  Max ran forward, uppercutting a Mite on the outskirts of the battle. He felt sluggish as he wound his fist back and hit it again to finish it off, once again tearing off armor and guns, which landed around the wreck.

  “The weapon you’ve got doesn’t have any range, grab the turret off that Mite!” Chopsticks sounded like he was really at the edge of his seat watching.

  Panting again, Max stopped and grabbed what looked like a minigun that had been attached to the back of the Mite he had just destroyed. He struggled to lift it and aimed it at the battle raging only a few yards in front of him and fumbled to find a trigger or any sort of firing mechanism.

  “I don’t know how to work it!” Max gritted his teeth as he strained against the weight of the gun.

  “Just drop it, you don’t have the Traits for it, it’s a ranged weapon,” Sam said. “You’re just going to have to punch your way through this, just stay on the outside of the fight and try not to get yourself killed.”

  “Yeah! You wanted to farm experience, here’s your chance!” Chopsticks egged him on.

  “All right,” Max said under his breath. “Boxing match with an army of killer drones, let’s go.”

  Max set his sights on one of the Mites that was backing away from the melee, presumably trying to get some range. Max ran up behind it and brought his fist down, the shock wave wrenching the drone in half. Keeping an eye on the battlefield, he ducked as a stray ray of energy blazed over his head. He couldn’t rely on Murf’s reflexes to keep him alive, instead having to work overtime to see threats and react soon enough to keep himself from harm.

  Back to his feet, he ran around the edge of the carnage, leaping over a crumpled mess of a Mite, landing next to another which he punched the gun off the top of. He then kicked out, which rolled it over, and brought his fist down on its underside, caving in the armored chassis.

  He looked up at a Mite that had turned toward him, staring down the barrel of the gun on its back. Max stepped to the side just as he heard it unleash a barrage, tripping over metal scrap littering the floor. Max hit the ground hard and rolled along his side until he was behind a pile of debris.

  He heard a crunching sound and looked up just to see one of Jag’s humanoid mechs lift its arm off the compacted piece of metal that had been trying to kill him just a second ago.

  Max scanned the area, looking for his next opponent, but realized that there were only a few of the attack drones left, making a last stand against the small army of Jag’s creation.

  With a final burst of weapons being fired from both sides, the area fell quiet, save for the whirr of electronics at work.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “That was one hell of a battle.” Max stepped over a pile of mangled circuitry toward Jag, who stood beside a console by the side of the doors of the central building.

  “Thanks for your help, man.” Jag tapped the console, bringing up the larger screen of light that appeared in the air, assessing the damage to the base. From what Max could see over his shoulder—red and orange alerts next to system names—the damage could take ages to repair.

  “Want a hand?” Max asked. “Because by the looks of things, you wouldn’t survive another attack like that.”

  Jag tapped the console again, his shoulders hunched as he scanned the readouts. “You’re right. These raids are getting bigger every time. They used to attack a couple of times every month, but it’s pretty much a weekly event now. Between the Mites and other players...but at least I’ve got a shitload of scrap now.”

  “Why?” Max turned and looked at the rest of the base, the broken mechs, the dented and damaged buildings. “Have you hit a new threshold of some kind? Is that triggering them?”

  Jag tapped the screen and the readouts disappeared. “No, it’s not me everyone’s after.”

  Max narrowed his eyes as he studied the worried profile of his friend. The game didn’t randomly pick and choose who to attack. Unlike players, the game was unbiased, ruled by statistics. “Then why?”

  Jag swung around to face Max. “The Concealer I fixed. Could you do me a favor and take something back to Primeva with you?”

  “Whoa. You want me to smuggle something through the portal?” Max put his hands up. “I have my own problems. I can’t get mixed up in anything.”

  “Come on, you’re basically running incognito right now, I helped you set up that account, remember? No one’s going to be able to trace it back to you. And if you get caught—and you won’t—but if you did, would it matter if you lost this account?” Jag had a point, but Max didn’t want to listen.

  “It must be some high-end shit if you can’t take it through with a Trading License and pay the customs...wait, why don’t you just buy a license and take it through legally?”

  Jag held up a hand. “It’s complicated, I just need this out of my hands for a minute, please?”

  “Do it,” Sam said suddenly.

  “You have to do it. It’s Jag.” Chopsticks was never the voice of reason. So that meant this couldn’t be good.

  Max took a deep breath and held it. “Okay.” He grimaced.

  “Okay?” Jag raised his eyebrow. “I was expecting to have to give this grand speech to persuade you. I had prompts and everything.”

  “Yeah, well, I skipped ahead to where you ask me when have I ever let you down?” Max sighed, wanting to be off this world and back in the swampy lush world of Primeva.

  Jag grinned. “Thanks.” With a flick of his hand, he opened the door of the domed building. Max followed as he strode inside, taking a spiral staircase down into what looked like a bunker. It was stacked with shelves containing various parts for vehicles, robots, and other Gyromeda tech.

  “So, what is it?” Max asked as Jag walked directly to a black metal container that sat on a shelf on its own.

  “Best you don’t ask.” Jag tucked it under his arm. “Call it plausible deniability.”

  “You don’t trust me?” Max asked in offense. “You do know I just agreed to smuggle that to Primeva.”

  “And I’m doing you a favor not telling you.” Jag shrugged. “When things calm down around here, I’ll hop through a portal and take it off your hands.”

  “Is it a weapon?” Max asked. Smuggling a weapon from one world to another was one of the worst offenses. If caught, it wouldn’t just be Max’s smurf character that got banned. If news on the forums was true, then his IP address along with his access console could also be banned. He didn’t have the cash lying around to buy a whole new setup. He trusted Jag’s ability to disguise Max’s true identity, but he still had a fair amount of paranoia about the whole thing.

  “The less you know about it the better.” Jag wasn’t going to share any further information. Maybe that was for the best after all.

  “Just take it, Max.” Chopsticks was right. Jag had dropped everything to help Max. It was time to return the favor.

  “Okay. How does the Concealer work?”

  Jag’s expression brightened and his shoulders dropped with relief as he carried the black metal box back up the stairwell. “It’s simple. You place it on whatever you want to conceal, and it disappears. It does what it says on the can.” They turned off the stairwell and hurried down a corridor.

  “And no one can see it or detect it?” Max asked.

  “This won’t be detected by the portal scanners if that’s what you are worried about. The Concealer bends the space around the object. At least as far as I kno
w, that’s what it does. But since this is a game, for all I know, it simply messes with the code. Actually, who knows, these things shouldn’t really exist.” Jag pushed open the door leading into the room where he’d made the repairs to the Concealer and other items Max had brought with him. This place was a maze, somehow all the buildings were linked underground.

  “Are you going to take it out of the box?” Max indicated the black metal case that Jag clutched a little too tightly. Whatever the box contained, it was of value. At least to Jag.

  “Nope, it’s going to stay in here.” Jag patted his pocket. “I have the key.”

  “You don’t trust me not to peek?” Max put his hand over his heart and staggered backward. “I’m wounded.”

  Jag gave a short laugh. “If you don’t have the key, you can’t be tempted to look.”

  “Now who doesn’t trust who?” Max asked as he picked up the Concealer. “Show me how to use it. I don’t want to make a mistake and get caught going through the portal. Or when I use it to leave Cerribue-Prime.”

  “Yeah, it would suck to come all this way and waste my time just to get eaten at the first hurdle.” Jag held out his hand and Max passed him the Concealer. “Okay. It’s easy. See this button here?” Max nodded. “Hold it down while you place the Concealer on the object you want to hide. Once it’s in place, release the button.”

  Jag pushed his tools and a soldering iron to one side and placed the metal box on the workstation. Then he put the Concealer on the box while holding down the button. “Abracadabra.” Jag released the button and the box disappeared. It truly did look like a vanishing trick.

  “Huh, well, at least it works.” Max turned to look at Jag. “Wait, you said that Mites are attracted to energy, why are they coming for this then?”

  Jag stayed quiet for a moment before replying, “They are attracted to energy, it’s how they reproduce. But they seem to be even more magnetized to this. I can’t say much more than that for now.”

  Max stuck out his hand and patted the space where the box should be. The hairs on the back of his hand stood on end as he neared it.

  “It’s still there.” Max tapped the box, which emitted a hollow ringing sound.

  “Yes. It’s a Concealer. It hides it, it doesn’t actually make anything disappear.” Jag picked up the box and crossed the room to the other workstation. “It’s not real magic.”

  “You mean I have to carry this back through the portal.” Max tapped his fingers on the invisible metal box. “I’ll use the sailcloth again. No one bothered to look in it then.”

  Jag laughed. “You have seen this character, haven’t you? You’re not worth the trouble even as easy pickings.”

  “And I guess security thinks I’m one of those new players who drift from world to world trying to figure out where they fit in.” Max nodded. “Makes perfect senses.”

  “Yes, a few new players come to Gyromeda to level up before trying out the other worlds. It’s safer here for lower levels, most threats are attracted to established bases, so they can build up their stats doing missions from the Hub without the fear of getting their heads ripped off by a T. rex.” Jag placed the concealed box down carefully in the sailcloth and Max placed the laser gun and a couple of the other items he had left, namely the harpoon, glider, Weatherglass, wand, and a few bits and pieces. Then he carefully tied the ends, before testing the knot.

  “I don’t want this to break and spill out across the floor at the portal. How suspicious would I look crawling around on my hands and knees looking for an invisible box?” Max’s top lip stuck to his teeth as he grinned nervously. “Luckily, I think this classes as an actual bag according to the game, so it shouldn’t just fall apart, and nothing inside should get damaged.”

  “Hey, the most they can do is kick you out of the game.” Jag gave Max a reassuring pat on the back. But Max was not reassured.

  “If they ban my rig and IP, you are going to set me up with a sweet new kit.” He pointed his finger at Jag, half playfully, half with meaning.

  Jag laughed. “Remember, you’re untraceable. I guarantee it. But the easy solution is don’t get caught.”

  “Jeez, what a good idea.” Max picked up the sailcloth and slung it over his shoulder. “I should get back to the Hub. It’s getting late and I still have to meet Pez and make it home.”

  “Oh!” Jag laughed harder. “I just remembered when Sam and I visited Cerribue on Primeva.”

  “He just remembered,” Sam hissed in Max’s ear.

  “Yeah, she said you’d been there.” Max rubbed his chin.

  “Sam talks about me?” Jag asked hopefully, and then his cheeks flushed red. “She’s there in the room with you.”

  “Sam and Chopsticks, yep.” Max brushed off the awkwardness of the situation as he tied the sail over one shoulder and held it under his arm. “Pez is in his room trying to get to Cerribue as fast as possible. I just hope it’s all worthwhile.”

  “Yeah, you need to take those Ravagers down. And find out how they get all that gear, it does sound fishy.” Jag shook his head. “But I’m still not sold on the whole infiltration thing.”

  “You can’t have it both ways. We can’t take them down unless we have an edge. And this is it. Here’s your Blast Brace, by the way.” Max slipped the metal ring off his wrist and handed it to Jag before he headed toward the door leading to the stairwell. “You’re gonna take me back to the Hub, aren’t you?”

  “No, man, you gotta walk.” His eyes fell on the makeshift pack on Max’s back and an uneasy feeling spread through him.

  “Is the journey back going to be worse? Are we going to get hit by an endless number of players trying to rip it from my back? You just said this is why they’re all after you.” Why the hell hadn’t he thought about that before he agreed to use the Concealer?

  Jag chuckled. “I’m kidding. You’re not going to be walking, but you will be going alone.” Jag rubbed his eyes. “And sure, that box is why I’ve got so much aggro right now. And no, they’re not going to hit you at all. I’ll distract them. Once I’m gone, you’ll make the run to Cerribue.”

  “I’m going out there alone?” Max tapped the pack. “With this as a target?”

  “The Concealer will make it impossible for anything to detect it. And when I leave, anyone who might be watching will follow me. Even with the base damaged, most are going to struggle to get in.” He gave a derisive snort. “Believe me, they’ve tried.”

  “I’m going to need a hoverbike 101 course before I can get myself back alive.” Max kind of liked the idea of riding one of those bikes. But he didn’t have time to learn in any trial or error kind of way. He also did not want to lose all the experience he’d just gained, along with Jag’s mystery box.

  “No, you’re not.” Jag beckoned to Max and they exited the room, running up the stairs back up into the hangar. Jag jogged past most of the machines, stopping next to a row of six hoverbikes. “This will get you to the Hub.” He pressed the ignition on, and the engine began to buzz.

  It wasn’t as quiet and sleek as the bike they rode into the base with, and it was half the size, with only one seat.

  “On my own?” Max asked again.

  Jag nodded. “Leave it on the landing pad and I’ll pick it up later.”

  Max was struck by a thought. “Wait, can’t you send me to a different Hub? From what everyone’s told me, it’s going to be difficult for me to leave Cerribue. Can’t you send the hoverbike to the Yulu Hub instead? It’s the one we normally use and is just so much closer to home.”

  “Sorry, no can do, compadre.” Jag shook his head. “It’s too far for you to go without encountering anything, and I can’t come with you and leave the base like this. Trust me, Cerribue is your best bet.”

  “So, what do I have to do to fly this thing?” Max asked as he slung his leg over the bike and settled into the seat.

  “Press this button,” Jag said, then held his hand up. “But not yet.”

  “Press one button.
” Max’s brow creased as he looked at the button and then at the rest of the controls. “It has autopilot?”

  “It does. If I input the coordinates of the Hub, all you have to do is tell it to go and hold on tight. It won’t get you there fast, but it will get you there in one piece.” Jag tapped the screen and a display appeared. One more tap brought up a map. Jag input the coordinates of the Hub and pressed confirm as the location was displayed. “There. Even you can’t go wrong with this, Max, so don’t sweat.”

  “Thanks. I think.” Max placed his hands on the handlebars and leaned forward, trying to get a feel for the bike. He adjusted the angle of his body and squirmed around on the seat until he felt comfortable. “Okay. I’m ready when you are.”

  Jag went to the same bike he’d picked Max up on and effortlessly leaped into the seat, immediately firing up the engine. “The door will stay open for two minutes. That gives me time to get out and get away. The remains of the force field will keep out anyone who tries to sneak in during that time.”

  “How do I switch off the force field?” Max called as Jag inched forward out into the grounds of the base where signs of the drone battle remained as a stark reminder that Max’s life was in danger while he carried the pack with Jag’s contraband concealed inside.

  “The force field is programmed to let the bike go through. It has a unique signature, just like the others.” Jag half turned and looked back at Max. “Just wait for me to leave and hit the button like I showed you.”

  “What do I do when I get to the Hub? How do I lock it?” Max yelled. If this hoverbike could get through the force field, someone could easily steal it and get into Jag’s base.

  “It’s locked to my fingerprint. I use biometric security for all my stuff.” A wicked grin spread across his face. “So, don’t stop it or stall it ‘cause it won’t start again, and you’ll have to walk.” Jag placed both hands on the controls, and turned to drive out, the bike gliding across the floor, but paused.

  “Great.”

  “One last thing,” Jag hollered over the sound of Max’s engine. “Consider this danger pay.” He flicked the coin at him.