by Arthur Stone
No new screams followed, nor any victory message. But then leaves and branches showered down on him. The enemy had located where he was. Cheater instantly crouched down, trying to hide himself entirely. Something landed on the ground close by. He doubted they were tossing bags of money at him, so he squeezed down even more, revealing a flexibility he had hitherto never seen.
The grenade exploded, his ears went deaf, and stars shone in his eyes. Contorting every muscle, he tried to go even deeper. As he did, Cheater’s face turned upwards, and he marveled at what he saw.
A six-legged drone was hovering overhead. Its propellers were spinning, but either they were silent, or his hearing had not yet rebounded from the explosion. It was an impressive craft. Either quite large, or quite close to the ground. He saw the glare from the lenses of the camera, next to a thin tube of some unknown purpose. It turned to point at Cheater. Suspecting something harmful was coming, he flinched, unable to think of any action in the face of this situation where he could not leave the trench and yet was squeezed in too tightly to defend himself with his bow.
Perhaps it was time. He instinctively activated Smile of Fortune.
A little Luck wouldn’t hurt.
The drone shuddered slightly. He didn’t hear a thing, but his pain receptors were screaming loud and clear as they reacted to the dart built of snow-white plastic which was now stuck in his left shoulder. Cheater reached to yank the foreign object out, but suddenly his muscles turned to cotton balls, and the world to tar.
It was perhaps the first time that he could say, with certainty, that his luck had not helped.
Chapter 27
Life Seven: New Acquaintances, New Impressions
You’ve received a negative effect: Asleep. Current location: Cluster 443-286-37. Region: Interfluvial Steppe. Current revives remaining: 93 lives (initial value minus 6). Active quests: Survive, Search, Learn Secret, Help, Ask Correct Question, Pump or Chump, Find the Player Kitty. Current status: returning to game. You will remain asleep for forty-nine seconds, though this time may change based on your game circumstances. Hint: in addition to reconnaissance drones, there are also strike drones that can kill in various ways, including mass-damage weapons. Some drones can immobilize you with nets or temporarily disable you with dart injections filled with fast-acting drugs.
Cheater did not hurry to open his eyes when the countdown ended. His life experience so far was excellent evidence that his current location was probably not the local version of paradise. He had to at least deduce what circle of hell he had found himself in before he let his enemies know their prisoner had awakened.
The smell was like a mix of public toilet and caustic chemical. He lay on some kind of hard, ribbed surface in an extremely uncomfortable position. Something was digging into his skin in numerous places. But he had to stay motionless. His arms ached and were twisted behind his back, where they were bound at the wrist.
Yet another kidnapping. He doubted he was in a car; he felt no engine vibrations and no potholes, nor was there any engine sound.
At least he could hear what two of them were talking about. Their voices were irritated, enraged, excited, and frightened, all at once. Buckets of emotion boiling over.
“Gotta be a smartass, huh?”
“Smarter than you are, at least.”
“Look, pouring shit out of your mouth isn’t what makes you a man. So give it a break.”
“At least I didn’t pour shit into my pants. It was coming out of your pockets!”
“Look, this damned Robin Hood shot me. Right in the ass. That’s loss of blood and blood pressure. You’re a real bastard, making fun of me for that. You think you would have handled it differently? Hell no! The same thing would have happened to you.”
“At least you caught the arrow with that hot ass of yours. That made you lose something other than blood. Seriously, you smell worse than a skunk. Noob.”
“Oh, I’m the noob? Who blew an entire magazine on the guy without taking him out, eh?”
“You shot at him too.”
“I don’t even know what I was shooting at. You try taking an arrow to the ass. It reduces your sniping abilities significantly.”
“At least I hit him.”
“Screw off.”
“Look, his head is covered in dried blood.”
“That’s from the mosquitoes he was busy slapping in that swamp.”
“Mosquitoes? More like Dracula. Red everywhere!”
“Heh. ‘The young, inexperienced vampire realizing too late that he had been going about the sucking part all wrong...’”
“You’re in a good mood all of a sudden.”
“What’s there not to smile at? It’s warm and light out, and I’m enjoying inhabiting a box in my shit-stained pants. Might as well take what I can get.”
“To hell with you and your optimism!” He sighed. “No, don’t mind me. My nerves are just getting to me. We screwed up back there. We’re in it deep, as I’m sure you know.”
“Don’t start digging your grave just yet. Maybe we can get out of this somehow.”
“Yeah, like that arrow came out of your ass. Well, this ass we’re stuck in is deeper. A whole lot deeper. And shittier.”
“Give it up, Physic. God, it’s every day with you. We’ll get lucky one day, you’ll see.”
“‘Lucky’ for us means a quick, painless death.”
“Oh, don’t worry, that’s coming.”
“...what?”
“No one can put up with an asshole like you for long before getting a trigger finger twitch.”
“Shut your trap. Oh, look, the freak’s awake!”
By “freak,” Physic meant Cheater, of course. He had learned enough by now, so he figured he might as well stop playing dead. Opening his eyes, he started studying his situation and the pair whose conversation he had just been eavesdropping on.
Cheater was in a rectangular room a little bigger than a dumpster. It was made of metal. Not smooth metal, but ribbed metal, hence the pain in his ribs and legs. A viciously bright light cut into from four holes in the overhead tarp, allowing him to see the door in one of the walls. It was so faint, though, that at first he thought he was seeing things. He began to think that the three of them might all be captives, imprisoned here to die of hunger and thirst.
One look told him that while he still had his clothes, the rest of his gear was gone. The same was true of his fellow prisoners: no weapons, no ammo, nothing save the typical camo rags worn by so many players. On the left, there was a man with his head shaved down to a dull shine. His rough but round face bore an expression of dull surprise atop his inspiringly broad shoulders. He wasn’t very tall, maybe five foot four. The information panel said his Humanity was low positive and that his nick was Georgy. The man on the right looked more like an antagonist. Rich red hair chaotically spiked up like the surface of a stormy sea saddled his long horse face with its small, darting eyes. He eyes were set far apart, and he was lean and tall, over six feet. This one had positive Humanity, too, and his name was Physic.
They were ordinary guys, like you’d find filling the streets of any stable. They didn’t look like veteran bounty hunters or killers, and even Cheater with his limited Perception could see that their levels were at 23 and 24. Still inexperienced players, by Continental standards. These types of players were not accepted into serious assignments, and didn’t generally try to do serious things on their own, either, since they were well aware of their vulnerability.
Why the hell had they started shooting at him, then? Without even trying to negotiate first?
Morons!”
“I bet you’re glad, you bastard,” Physic hissed at him.
Cheater rose to a sitting position and leaned back against the wall, somehow finding a comfortable position for his bound hands.
“Pretty much,” he nodded. “Last time I felt this good was back behind the shed with your mom. What the hell did you bastards shoot at me for?”
“Bast
ards? I’m gonna break your skull!”
“Come on, then. At least then we’ll have something to do. Otherwise I’ll go mad talking to you idiots.”
“Goddamn burglar!”
“Where’d you get that from? I’m a peaceful guy. I hate conflict. Assuming you don’t go shooting at me. You worthless dogs.”
“Dogs? All you had to do was float on by and no one would have touched you. What right did you have to start gutting our ghouls?”
“Your ghouls? What the hell made them yours?”
“We saw them from the top of the hill, and we kept watch. We had a whole plan. How to sneak down there, how to gut them, how to get out quietly. Then you just paddle by on your damned boat. You were looking for trouble. Well, you found it. That was our clearing, and those were our spores. Ours! Damned thief.”
Cheater shook his head in dismay.
“I could tell right away that you guys weren’t very bright. But you’ve exceeded my worst expectations. This is the Continent, you know, and there’s one simple rule about loot here: whoever makes the kill keeps the loot. I was the one who killed those ghouls, not you. I took them all out a day before you twats decided to snipe at me. I’m surprised two lowlifes like you have somehow managed to keep your Humanity green.”
“Oh,” Georgy’s eyes flared up, “a day before, eh? The one who killed that crowd got sent to respawn.”
“Who told you that tale?”
“Well then why were their sporesacs untouched? Because there was nobody around to gut them. Meaning we had the right to them! After all, we found the field first.”
“Did you see my bow? If you didn’t, well, drop Physic’s pants and you’ll have all the evidence you need. Come on, buddy, let’s see it. You two undress each other every night anyway, so don’t be shy. Anyway, despite rumors to the contrary, the extra hole in Physic’s filthy ass was caused by an arrow, not by an unfortunate poke from Georgy here. The ghouls in the field had arrows sticking out of them. Bloody expensive arrows. And as any idiot knows, arrows don’t just fall out of the sky. So the verdict is out: that was my clearing. Those were my ghouls. Bows and arrows go together. But since you’re obviously not that bright, I forgive you. Especially since it seems we’re in it together now, it seems. No point to tearing each other’s throats out over a few spores.”
“Wow,” Physic snorted.
“What?”
“For us, a few spores is a decent take. We’ve been out of luck the past few days, and we weren’t even hunting then, just on our way to complete some important business.”
“Who captured us?”
“You don’t know?”
“I just saw the drone. It shot me with some dart and I was out cold. When I came to, I was in this dump listening to two guys promising their eternal love to one another.”
“We’re in it deep, clown. The bots have taken us.”
“Bots? Why didn’t they just kill us right away?”
“Because they want to torture us,” Georgy sobbed. “Nobody wants to be taken alive by bots.”
Physic nodded. “Over by Salt Lake once, I met this strange man. Talked a lot about the bots. He told us stories of his time with the bots and the experiments they did on him. All kinds of experiments. Like cutting off his balls and then measuring how long it took them to grow back.”
“You’re not serious,” Georgy protested.
“Look, if that’s a lie, it’s his lie, not mine. But I believe him. If the stories are true about the bot scientists, they’re worse than the moles’ farms. They have mobile laboratories and everything. Nobody wants to experience that.”
“But what kind of bots are we dealing with?” pleaded the shorter man.
“How should I know? I saw no more than you did. They had a good drone, so I doubt they were simple bots. Probably elite bots. Or a mix. I didn’t see any of them in respirators, though, so they’re probably quite advanced. Especially if they’re scientists. We’re screwed, boys. If I had known, I would’ve shot myself.”
Cheater remembered the tiny knife hidden in one of his inventory cells. “Are you sure that suicide is the way out?”
“I don’t know that personally, but everyone swears it by their mother’s grave. The bots won’t ever let us go, and if it’s science they’re after, get ready for repeat excisions and amputations. They’ll cut out something we don’t need to live, give it time to grow back, and then cut it out again.”
“Some people call them Flayers,” Georgy moaned.
Something slammed into the door, and then it swung open with a vengeance. Sunlight struck them in the eyes, and the figure of a broad-shouldered man with a harsh face stepped in. His features were the perfect match for his soldier’s uniform.
He bore a look of disgust. “Whose perfume expired, huh?
Ah, yours. Then you come with me,” he pointed at Georgy.
The man moved his lips, but silently, as he stood on wobbly legs. The door shut behind him, followed by a second metal clank.”
Physic kept his eyes on the door. “I never thought I’d say this, but I guess I’m the lucky one here.
I’m thinking they’ll take you next.”
“It seems so,” Cheater agreed.
“So, look, I’m sorry. We messed up this morning. We don’t steal, but we don’t let other people steal what we claim as ours, either. Understand? We watched for hours with no one around, and it’s not like that stuff had a name written on it or anything.”
“You’re asking me for absolution then?”
“I’m not asking you for anything. Forget it.”
“What else do you know about the bots?”
“What do you want to know?”
“Is there any way to negotiate with them?”
“Have you ever watched a mouse try to negotiate with a cat?”
“Never.”
“This is like that. They’re not even proper NPCs. Just puppets whose job is to kill. To kill us. And a quick kill is a gift.”
“I’ve heard there are lots of bots near the sea. But we’re pretty far away from there.”
“Bots can go anywhere. But yes, they usually hang out by the sea. Near the razers.”
“Is there any way we could escape?”
“Didn’t you see that drone they had? That was no toy made in China. It was a powerful machine. And this isn’t a small group. It’s a whole regiment. Dozens of them, if not hundreds. They know how to keep prisoners. I haven’t heard too many stories about escapes. Just pray that they shoot us.”
“Why would they take us prisoner just to shoot us? They could have taken us down where we were. What’s the point?”
“That’s what I’ve been thinking about. They must need something from us. As long as they’re not bot scientists. Please, not bot scientists. My pain threshold is shit. I’ll go mad. If you go mad from torture, respawn doesn’t restore your mind. Probably. I’m so screwed!”
* * *
The door slammed wide open about an hour later. No one stepped in, but Georgy did fly in, hurled by some unknown force. They only recognized him thanks to his shaved head and the round, bloody spot covering the place where his dull face had once been visible.
But his face was still there. With a quick glance at his body, Cheater concluded that these bots were not after organs. This wasn’t the work of scalpels but of fists or crowbars.
However, the bot officer would not allow him the time for a proper inspection. Standing at the door, he pointed at Cheater next.
“You. Your turn. Move out!”
Cheater wanted nothing more than to disobey this order, but he suspected that refusing it would lead to unpleasant consequences. The bots would get what they wanted, whether by command or by force. So he clenched his fist and complied.
Twilight had begun capturing the last of the day’s light. That was bad. The lighting in the metal room was intense, and his eyes took a few seconds to adapt. His ability to analyze his environment was delayed in the meantime.
&
nbsp; The room was the inside of a cargo container, as Cheater had suspected. Its length was divided into four compartments. Perhaps more prisoners sat in the remaining three, also awaiting their turn for execution.
The terrain was unfamiliar, and Cheater’s map insisted he had never been here. Scantily clad bushes dotted the landscape to the left and the right, and up on the hill, he could see the silhouettes of several types of armored vehicle. They defended the approaches to the sizable camp. Something like a self-propelled anti-aircraft gun was there, too, along with missile launchers and a rotating radar antenna.
But the camp was fully mobile. No tents, and everything on wheels. Identical trucks were arranged in two rows in the corner. They had been unpacked into a barracks, complete with folding canopies over the entryways. Each could fit a dozen soldiers comfortably, or even more. He also saw several mortar and machine gun emplacements protected by sandbags or mounds of earth. They stood next to a breathtakingly tall armored vehicle with an automatic cannon mounted on it.
Cheater was led not to the vehicle but up the hill. This was where the bulk of the camp’s forces were, including a pair of infantry combat vehicles and a tank. Two large trucks joined together made up the largest mobile structure in the camp. This was clearly where the local commanders were.
Cheater climbed up a short staircase and took a powerful blow from the butt of a rifle between his shoulder blades. His eyes grew dark. When he recovered his senses, he found himself in a sizable room. A long table ran along the far end of it, surrounded by a row of plastic chairs. The rest of the room was empty save a wooden chair with arms that looked like a torture device.
His apprehensions proved correct. Cheater was thrown into the seat, his bound hands tossed over the back. The move made his joints protest so badly that he failed to hold back a groan. At the sound of his pain, the monster in charge of this sadistic day grinned in satisfaction.
Through the tears in his eyes, he could vaguely make out another chair being placed in front of his own. A bot with a different appearance from all of the similar guards sat himself in it. This one had none of the standard ammunition and field gear. In fact, he was clearly an officer, and in full dress.
