The picture blurred, moving, as it returned to the sad panorama of the glaciers as cold and gloomy as the morning twilight.
A narrow staircase cut in ice spiraled down a crater’s side. I could see a few cliff ledges and some kind of buildings below.
The picture blurred, then came back into focus.
I saw a frosted-over airlock gate. It was ajar. Behind it a tunnel descended under the surface, deep into the depths of the planet’s crust where its magma core still preserved a semblance of warmth, allowing the remnants of the Haash civilization to survive.
The descent seemed to be never-ending. The enormous artificial spherical caves were all deserted. I came across occasional structures that looked like underground shipyards. I recognized the familiar outlines of yrobs decaying in the grip of their service towers.
The local civilization kept retreating. Step by step, year after year the Haash continued to lose their battle against the cold. Forced to abandon their underground dwellings and workshops, they continued to dig, deeper and deeper, in order to start afresh, losing time, energy and knowledge. One doomed generation after another kept going down in history until one day a discovery was made at an underground building site. A mysterious fragment of an alien spaceship had been found on the shore of a gigantic underground lake whose leaden waters rippled deep below.
Charon opened his eyes. He shrugged as if trying to shake off his frozen stupor. Mental contact didn’t come naturally to him. His concentration disrupted, he was forced to switch to a more familiar communication mode.
“That discovery gave us hope,” he said hoarsely. “The hope to be able to jump to another star system and find a new home there.”
“How did you manage to fly your ship through hyperspace? Tell me!” Jurgen demanded.
“I don’t know. I can only fly yrobs. I wasn’t privy to the sacred mystery. Only the chosen ones knew how the jump worked: those who built and controlled our starship.”
“The jump, was it instant?” I asked.
“It was,” Charon lowered his head in sorrow. “We failed to find a new home. We met Dargians instead. They attacked us straight away. No negotiations, nothing. The battle was brief. Only two wings of yrobs managed to escape. One retreated toward Argus. Humans killed them all. My wing attempted to take cover on the destroyed station. Rash took us prisoner. The rest you know.”
“And what had happened to your star? Tell us!”
“Alien machines did that. They built,” Charon faltered, searching for the right word, “they built a shell.”
“So your sun didn’t go out completely, then?” Arbido sounded surprised.
“Nowr. It turned black. There was no warmth coming from it anymore. It happened many generations ago.”
“We call it a Dyson sphere,” Jurgen said. “It’s an artificial structure that captures a star’s entire energy output. The creatures that built it must have been incredibly advanced technologically — and desperate for energy.”
“Not creatures. Machines,” Charon repeated. “Our ancestors tried to rid themselves of them but failed. Now it’s happening to you. I’m very sorry.”
“Oh please!” Foggs exclaimed in indignation. “Who are you listening to? This Forrest will tell you everything you want to hear just to get you to fetch him some old branches!”
I sat next to Charon. “How many of you are left?”
“A few hundred. They’re building another ship. A big one. One that allows them to spend countless years flying to the stars. Not everybody trusts alien technologies.”
“Where do they want to go?”
“Our objective was to find a habitable planet and communicate its system’s coordinates back to the rest of us.”
“So that other ship, is it equipped with the Founders’ communications too?”
“Exactly.”
“Don’t despair,” I gave him a friendly slap on the shoulder. “I’m sure we’ll find a way to help them.”
* * *
“Zander,” Arbido walked over to me. “I’ve no idea where to go! It’s this mist everywhere!” he sounded lost.
“Do you think you can find the place where the trail begins? Are there any reference points?”
He nodded. “There was that tree over there, you can’t confuse it with anything. We probably need to keep to the right of the ford.”
“So? You see! Okay, guys, time to move it. We’re only a stone’s throw from the location’s edge. Through the forest, then across some wastelands, directly toward the cliffs. We can’t miss it. How’re your interfaces, anything new?”
“Nothing,” Jurgen said. “I can’t even get the map working. I have question marks for my level. My race is marked as Human. All other characteristics are gray.”
“Likewise,” Foggs said.
“That’s weird. I’ve got the spell tab working,” I checked it again just in case. “The spells are no good but at least we have the scrolls. If we come across some mobs, Charon, you’ll do the tanking. If we can’t tackle them, we’ll try to lose them. Jurgen, Arbido, you try to keep out of it.”
“Got it,” Foggs answered for everyone. “We should have taken Forrest with us. He could’ve controlled any mobs.”
“Yeah right, dream on. He never ventures too far from his little lake. Our Forrest is a stay-at-home guy. He hates adventures.”
So we kept talking as we delved into the woods.
We had barely taken a hundred paces when the terrain began to change. We kept coming across areas of tree stumps until finally we were confronted by a wide swathe of felled trees.
No mobs yet. The beaten track was taking us toward the location’s edge. A hollow silence surrounded us. Gray mist enveloped everything around.
The gloom grew deeper, trees more sparse. Soon we’d clear the woodland and see the impassable cliff range...
“Charon! Wait!”
The Haash froze, listening in, casting wary glances around.
“Zander, what is it?” Foggs readied for a fight.
A clatter of hooves was dying in the distance. It sounded as if the invisible riders were traveling along a paved road.
“Easy now. Advance slowly. Keep quiet.”
The mist began to disperse. We left the trees behind. I could make out layers of crimson that glowed far ahead.
After a few more steps, the gray fog parted.
We faced a gigantic shallow crater. The location’s edge didn’t exist anymore. We’d crossed it without even noticing.
The world of the Crystal Sphere had spilled out into the Earth’s cyberspace.
Chapter Five
The Infosystems Corporation testing grounds
Arbido gasped. “We must have gotten side-tracked.”
“Not at all,” Jurgen pointed at the fire-polished remnants of the cliffs which once marked the location’s edge. In the crevices between them, gray dust rose swirling in the wind. The earth underfoot had fused into what resembled bubbly glass. Fat bundles of cables snaked beneath it.
Jurgen curiously studied the technological underbelly of the testing grounds.
Foggs crouched next to him. “This is still the virtual world, isn’t it? What’s with all the power cables and data lines? They’re just part of the setting, surely?”
“No, they’re not. This is how our minds visualize data,” Jurgen replied, his face clouded. He kept casting looks around as if trying to recognize the area.
Foggs lit up a torch and brought it close to the uneven fire-swept surface. “If we find something to break the glass with, do you think we could tap into it?”
“Possible,” Jurgen found a crackled section of the surface and kneeled, peering down into the vitrified mass of frozen bubbles.
“All you’ll do is attract attention!” Arbido warned us, anxious. “They’re sure to notice the fire!”
Jurgen sighed. “Wish we had a diamond drill,” he sank his dagger into one of the cracks. The tip of the dagger broke.
“Let me try,” Charo
n took a swing with his ogre club.
The hardiness of this glassy substance was impressive. Charon’s club bounced off. A few of its spikes broke off in a cascade of sparks.
“We can’t do it here,” Jurgen concluded. “We’ll have to keep going. The lines are protected. This glassy stuff is in fact an access-restricting program.”
“What’s there at the testing grounds that might help us?” Foggs asked.
“They were created to quickly and efficiently interact with new locations and facilities,” Jurgen explained. “This is the latest-generation working environment. I used to know some Corporation workers that stayed online for months, making it their new home from home.”
“Is your memory finally coming back? Who exactly do you mean?”
“I’m talking about Frieda and myself.”
“Did you work for Infosystems? You’re one of them?” Arbido recoiled.
“I am,” Jurgen answered calmly. “Used to be, rather. Back to the point,” he cut any potential questions short, “the grounds consist of three types of locations. Some imitate the real world; others are off-limits while yet others considerably facilitate shared data processing. I’m not sure whether they’re still intact, though. We need to go and look.”
“Does that mean this used to be your workplace?” Arbido kept on grilling him.
“So what?” Jurgen rose from his knees and brushed the ashes off his pants. “Didn’t you do the same when you met your clients online? Lots of people prefer going virtual. The possibilities are boundless compared to the real world.”
“What exactly are we looking for? And who might we meet here?” Foggs was more interested in the practical side of the matter.
“We’ll either be looking for certain locations or for special programs granting restricted access. Usually they look like a piece of gear. Once you put it on, you get access to lots of devices.”
“So easy?” I couldn’t conceal my surprise.
“In case you’re interested, Frieda and I were involved in the development and testing of the Crystal Sphere. Not anyone can get access to the testing grounds. But once you’re here, you get to do lots of things. Just don’t hold your breath,” he glanced ahead of himself, “things are different now. The two worlds have fused together. It’s difficult to say what or whom we might encounter here. Pay special attention to any instances of transparent purple glow. It’s not too bright or easy to notice. It’s usually shaped as a dome and spreads over large areas. Those are the zones offering shared access to data and processor power.”
“And this crater, does it also have a purpose?” asked Charon who’d been hanging on Jurgen’s every word.
“I don’t think so. Most likely it’s the result of the activation of the grounds’ defense programs.”
* * *
A trail snaked down through the fire-polished cliffs.
A dull light seeped from the sky. Every step was a struggle. All our movements were forced as if walking underwater.
Foggs staggered and barely stayed on his feet. “Watch out! There’s some sort of boundary here!”
I took one step over the invisible barrier. Freezing cold breathed into our faces.
This was a familiar phenomenon and one that did not bode well. Gusts of frigid wind hit us, whipping swirls of ash into the air.
The Crystal Sphere developers had created a special warning system to alert players of any potential danger by using abrupt unmotivated weather changes or illogical natural phenomena which contradicted the known laws of physics.
Jurgen stopped. The freezing wind ruffled his cropped gray hair. Withered yellow leaves fell, whirling slowly in the gloom. There was nowhere they could have come from. Unyielding to the gusts of the rising hurricane, they didn’t seem to be part of it.
Normally, a player received a much more delicate albeit persistent warning. For instance, you’d walk through the forest unsuspicious of a robbers’ den — or a ghouls’ lair nearby which was still way out of your league. And as you walked, you’d suddenly feel a touch of chilling cold or the freezing breath of a wintry mist which would pass as quickly as it had started. Had you chosen to ignore the warning, you might have gotten another system alert of a similar kind. And if you disregarded that one too — oh well, then you were too stubborn for your own good and master of your own undoing.
An experienced player could always tell the magnitude of the impending danger just by the intensity of this phenomenon, deciding whether the risk was worth it.
“The location’s defense programs are trying to stop someone!” Jurgen exclaimed.
“Wonder who that might be?” Foggs croaked. “Couldn’t it be us, by any chance?”
Charon shook his head in bewilderment. His still damp pilot’s suit was already covered with ice.
“Jurgen, we need to do something!” Arbido panicked. “We’ll freeze to death here!”
“We need to keep going,” Jurgen snapped. “Move on!”
He was right. There was nothing else we could do.
After a dozen more paces, the wind calmed. The surrounding rocks crackled with frost. Gray ash swirled in the air, hindering all visibility. The insidious rustle of leaves grated on my nerves. The leaves disappeared the moment they touched the ground.
I heard the clatter of hooves and the exhausted snorting of horses. The air carried the sounds far, the riders’ approach preempted by a new wave of freezing cold.
“Reapers!” Jurgen peered hard at the new danger but the visibility was still poor.
“How do you know?” Arbido wheezed, chattering his teeth with cold.
“The warning’s intensity! It’s them the defense programs are trying to block! They wouldn’t have bothered to waste so much power on us!”
His reasoning was rather faulty. We had no idea who was in control of the virtual world now. It would be nice to think that the location’s software was on our side but... it looked as if this phenomenon wasn’t selective: it was global.
The unbearable cold and paralyzing fear was taking over my body and mind.
A rider on a white horse charged out of the fog and galloped past. Then he reined in his stallion which reared up, its hooves striking sparks from the rocks.
He was followed by a squad of Reapers. A thunderous tsunami wave of frosted flesh, glittering steel and fiery runes charged us.
“Neeeeuuuros!” their blood-curdling scream froze in the deafening silence.
“Form a circle! Back to back!”
Arbido shrank and crouched, covering his head. Foggs stood next to me, his face distorted, a ray of light snaking down the blade of his two-handed sword. Charon’s wheezy breathing escaped his jaws in clouds of mist. Jurgen was whispering something in singsong — the words I couldn’t quite make out.
They were coming closer.
Terror sank its teeth into my mind.
My fingers didn’t bend. The rough parchment of the scroll was powdered with frost. The seal had frozen solid, refusing to obey my clumsy fingers.
The tips of their spears glowed in the dark. Their ranks arched, outflanking us. The riders reined in their horses, awaiting command.
The frosty mist wasn’t going to stop them. The location’s defense programs couldn’t do much against them, either, The Reapers’ faces were concealed by their helmets, but no breath escaped their slotted visors.
“Neeeeuuuros!”
They charged. Faster and faster, dashing at us from every direction.
Arbido broke down, dissolving in a desperate scream.
With unbending fingers I broke the seals on the scrolls one by one.
The air breathed heat into our faces as a Hand of Earth surrounded us with a moatful of thick magma. The vitrified ground crackled, fissuring. Fire escaped its depths, followed by an instant growth of uncoiling vines that whooshed into the air, tripping the horses and beheading their riders.
Still, the spells didn’t last.
The assaulting vines crumbled to dust. The Wall of Fire e
xpired. Only the Hand of Earth was still glowing crimson as the magma bubbled, quickly forming a crust of slag.
The swift shadows charged at us. The cooling moat couldn’t stop them any longer.
A club swung through the air. A horse snorted; a sword blade arced through the air, splitting the unhorsed rider in half. His frozen flesh exploded. Shards of bloodied ice glistened in the flames before dissolving in a crimson-colored spray.
Foggs and I fought back to back. Two more Reapers collapsed, unmounted. Hot blood trickled down my slashed cheek.
A furious Charon looked around himself, searching for more enemy, but... it was already over.
Twilight hurried to envelop us. The torch in Jurgen’s hand struggled to dispel the thickening gloom.
The clatter of hooves died in the distance.
Sheets of shimmering greenish mist floated around us.
Otherworldly whispers came from everywhere as the Reapers’ bodies began to fade and lose shape. Scorched earth stank of roasted flesh.
You’ve received a new level!
Warning! The skill and ability calculator is temporarily unavailable. The XP points you receive will keep accumulating and will be available for distribution once the interface is fully functional.
Recommendation: in order to prevent the levels you received earlier from being blocked, you need to leave the incompatible cyberspace ASAP.
* * *
“It’s getting warm! Did you notice?” Foggs wiped his sword clean with a spare piece of cloth.
Arbido didn’t say anything. He cast wary glances around, still in disbelief that the danger was over. Charon looked shaken. He'd suffered a metabolite overdose. He froze, his every muscle tense like a taut spring, his glare searching for his next victim.
“You told me this was a made-up world!” he growled.
“It is, but it’s been perfected to look 100% authentic,” Jurgen was pale and calm. “You do have a neuroimplant installed, don’t you?”
Black Sun (Phantom Server: Book #3) Page 10
