“A million crystals? I heard we got a lot less than that. Like three times less,” Alexander Antipov turned to the faction head for an explanation. Vasily Filippov couldn’t hide his incomprehension either, clearly hearing about this million for the first time.
For just a second, annoyance and dismay flickered on Lozovsky’s face, after which his usual confidence returned. But I managed to detect those emotions and even came to certain conclusions. Seemingly, spending half a million crystals on the rebels in the magical world was the faction head’s personal project, not agreed upon by the other directors, nor the outside curators.
“Well, we didn’t really get that much,” the faction leader admitted. “We got eight hundred forty thousand crystals to be exact. I have a document from Kosta Dykhsh with that exact figure. But friends, you’re forgetting our suzerains’ thirty-percent tax on vassal income. What’s more, some of that money went to pay the almost one thousand NPC Centaurs we hired. Obviously they are not building our roads, defenses and other structures for free. And they’ll be fighting on our side as well. We also owed the Human-6 Faction some money. A division of German allies three-hundred-strong will arrive to port in the Antique Beach tomorrow to help us fight the Dark Faction. And they were equipped using that very money. A detailed expense report will be provided to the curators right after this meeting.”
The director spoke confidently and eloquently, and everyone clearly believed him. What was more, I had no doubt that such an experienced politician could provide that proof if need be, including witnesses and even hoof-prints from Centaur mare Phylira. But I was sure Ivan Lozovsky was lying. The thirty-percent vassal tax was pure bunkum. That key aspect had been discussed with Uline, and the transfer was intentionally made between private individuals as not to incur any taxes.
But what would I achieve if I placed the faction leader’s words into doubt? All the more so without any proof! The most the Diplomat would say was that he didn’t have the right to disclose financing the anti-mage rebels because the project was top-secret and not everyone at the meeting had clearance. Sure, he’d get chewed out for hiding the truth, maybe even for misuse of power, but it would end there.
The meeting continued, but I didn’t hear any more interesting news. In fact, they were primarily discussing real-world issues. First there was the construction of corncobs number twenty-three and twenty-four. Then the need for a second soccer field and another two tennis courts. We would also be getting a separate building for faction members with families. Next they discussed the night lighting schedule. Some found it too dark, while others were unable to sleep because the spotlights were too bright... It was all circumstantial and minor technical aspects, so I had no idea why we all had to be here to discuss it.
All that interested me was a question from the new Strategist about why I was gathering a team of barely familiar and untested Miyelonians and Geckho. Why did I not want to wait a few days and make a crew with people of my faction? Vasily Andreyevich Filippov assured me that the Human-3 Faction would listen carefully to all my requests and would find or prepare a sufficient number of people of the proper professions. Our mission was, after all, critical for all humanity.
I answered that I was now hiring only the most crucial crew. The bare minimum to finish repairing the starship and fly it. I promised to seriously consider the Strategist’s suggestion and soon give a list to the faction of professions with level and skill requirements. And with that that the meeting was over. I hurried to the exit, trying not to show my excitement and happy smile. Everything went exactly the way I hoped!
Chapter Thirty-Two. Faction Power-Broker
I HURRIED TO LEAVE the administration building but, near the doors, I was stopped by Gerd Tamara shouting:
“Kirill, don’t run off, wait for me!”
Like it or not, I had to stop, especially because the exit was being blocked by Roman Pavlovich and another beefy Second Legion soldier with crossed arms. Was I in trouble? Seemingly not. Neither of Gerd Tamara’s minions had shown any aggression, and the bodyguards who accompanied me under the Dome would not allow this conflict to heat up. Tamara then caught up to me and asked me politely to walk her to her room. So we went into the dimly lit Dome and slowly strolled toward our separate residential building. Both of our bodyguards delicately gave us space, as not to interrupt our conversation.
“You don’t look like yourself today, Kirill,” she told me, wrapping herself tightly in a track jacket thrown over her shoulders. “You’re normally so active, full of ideas and energy. But today I could feel apathy in you and a total indifference. I also could sense you weren’t telling the whole story, and in places you were telling obvious lies. Has something serious happened? Are you worried for Minn-O La-Fin?”
“Remember that note you gave me inside the radio?” I answered with a question. Tamara gave a distinct nod. “Well, even though the traitor Tyulenev is no longer among our faction leaders, I cannot shake the feeling that your warning is still relevant. The Dark Faction knows a suspicious amount about us, and our leaders sometimes do strange things that are hard to explain. And that is why I am still following your advice and didn’t reveal my true plans even our leaders.”
Tamara spent some time walking in silence, digesting the information, then commented:
“If you’re talking about Ivan Lozovsky, you must remember that I was the only one who didn’t vote for him as faction leader, right? And I still think you should be in his place. But Lozovsky is not an enemy. He’s just an unprincipled careerist, willing to step on the heads of his underlings to reach the heights of power. He clearly has no lost love for you, but he’s patient while you’re useful. Still, if you make one serious misstep, Kirill, our boss will trample you in the mud!”
“Maybe so. I’m not sure about that. But Lozovsky gave half a million crystals to terrorists and hid that from everyone...” I started. Tamara quickly interrupted:
“Our Diplomat is clean. I told him the Dark Faction player’s offer, and I convinced him to agree. Lozovsky just handed over the cash after the Geckho confirmed there was a blast at the funeral.”
“But... why?!” I couldn’t hold back the shout of surprise, and the miniature girl stopped sharply, looked at me and answered with extreme seriousness:
“Because we had to do it, Kirill! Sometimes you have to make harsh choices. A surgeon cannot afford to worry about the pieces of flesh they cut off, if that means saving the whole body. And we must win the war with the Dark Faction at any cost, even terrorism and assassinating the most powerful mages! If that is what it takes to weaken our deadly enemy, I have no regrets. I would do it again in a heartbeat!”
Tamara and I spent some time staring at one another tensely, and I was surprised to realize that I could not read her thoughts no matter how I tried. So, when the Paladin wanted she could simply make an impenetrable psychic block. Finally, I gave in and was first to avert my gaze. After that, we quickly calmed down and continued walking down the shadowy park paths. A little while later, I asked a question that had long been tormenting me:
“Tamara, did you ever think about why that Dark Faction player would want such a colossal amount of virtual currency? I mean, could he ever spend it without arousing suspicion?”
“I did consider that,” she said, admitting I was being fair. “And no, of course he couldn’t. Unless he’s unaccountable to anyone, or very rich both in the game that bends reality and his own magical world. And let me say one more thing. Most likely, this was not some lowly player’s idea, but that of someone very high up, possibly even one of the highest leaders of a magical world faction. Whoever it was simply saw an opportunity to get rid of competitors and took it. But you know, Kirill... I don’t care one bit who is behind it! Let those ravenous spiders devour one another!”
Over the serious and frank conversation, we imperceptibly reached the doors of the residential building. Here Tamara and I parted ways. I was not going inside, instead planning to go back to the cor
ncobs because I had business waiting in the game. Seemingly, Tamara was upset by my decision, but she didn’t try and talk me out of it or ask me to go with her. She stood on her tiptoes and gave me a very quick peck on the cheek and, instantly blushing, asked:
“Kirill, back... on my birthday... you know what I’m talking about... did you consider it? Or did you just leave right away?”
I smiled and tried to joke it off, but it didn’t work. It was as if she had latched into me like a tick, holding my jacket with two hands and not letting go. For some reason, this odd girl badly needed me to give her a direct answer.
“Yes, I admit I thought about it,” I lied, because I thought that was what she wanted to hear. “Who in my place could resist such a pretty girl?!”
Tamara blushed even more, let me go and said I was totally forgiven. She wished me pleasant gaming, bid me farewell and went inside the building. After that entertaining episode, my mood was sharply improved. What was there to hide? The dark-haired girl was serious beyond her years and I liked her. I was sincerely happy that we had left our misunderstandings and anger in the past.
* * *
WHAT A BEAUT’! In a slow gait, I walked around my ship, which was finally ready for takeoff. I couldn’t hide my veneration. There was not a trace remaining of the dents and holes in the fuselage, nor of the awkwardly installed armor. The silvery chassis was polished to a shine and glowed like a spotlight. I heard the thrusters warming up for takeoff, and it was like music to my ears. I saw the short arrow-like wings for ultrasonic atmospheric flight, and five suspension brackets for rocket and bomb systems that could be unfolded if the situation called for it. And the weaponry had all been purchased and installed.
We had two laser turrets at the nose. Although they were not the newest or most powerful, they could cut through atmosphere and turn a tank or flying antigrav to ashes. We also had a combat computer that allowed the turrets to aim and fire at moving targets, even ones actively trying to dodge. We also had advanced scanning systems capable of discovering targets even deep underground. Yes, I had to scrimp and pinch pennies the whole way, and didn’t always use the best equipment, but the ship was rigged out and ready to fight.
If there was a Dark Faction spy at the recent meeting, their leadership had probably already been informed that my starship would not be usable for at least ten days. Just in case (what if I was wrong, and there was no spy in our top ranks) I was planning to repeat this disinformation to Minn-O, when I met my wayedda here on the station. Yes, the enemies had soothsaying mages, but even they were not omniscient. If they were working from incorrect initial data, they would give inaccurate prognoses to their Strategist, which would make their general make a mistake. And that was exactly what I was hoping for.
Old Ayukh had already calculated how long it would take us to fly to Earth: seven ummi. Unfortunately, that was slower than last time on the speedy interceptor, despite all the bonuses from our experienced Navigator. It was thirty-nine hours in Earth time. On the one hand, that was quite a lot. But on the other, my H3 Faction could hold out some forty hours even if the upcoming battle went all wrong. Once I heard the war had begun, I was planning to take off and intercede in the conflict as soon as I arrived. The coming of a deadly frigate, which the enemy could not touch would seriously change the balance of forces. I was counting on that.
The Navigator suggested we establish a new base on a different station, the Miyelonian trading hub Kasti-Utsh III, which would make our flight to earth three times faster. I’d heard of this station before. During my very first voyage on the Shiamiru, the Geckho crew had described it as conveniently-located and calm. So I was not opposed to making our base there. There was another reason to fly to Kasti-Utsh III, too. I had already figured out that a local trader called Mava had sold all the Relict artifacts he bought from Free Captain Rikki and other pirates to a partner who dwelt in that very station. I was curious what I might find there. Very few appreciated the true value of those artifacts, and even fewer could actually use them.
So now, everything was just about ready for takeoff from Medu-Ro IV. We were just waiting for Minn-O La-Fin to come back into the game. I naturally was not going to leave without my wife, and the Princess had just up and disappeared.
The thrusters gave an unexpected piercing whine, then quickly quieted down. Dmitry Zheltov’s happy voice rang out in my headphones:
“Awesome ship! I’ve tested out all the systems, it all checks out. It’s got great responsiveness and I can feel the power! It’s night and day compared to what it was! And yes captain, Denni Marko is here at firing position asking to tell you he’s already checked and calibrated the cannons. Now he can’t wait to test them out on something or someone!”
And I was also proud of that acquisition. The two deep-space humans had joined my crew in the end, and I was hoping to find out lots of new and interesting facts about their mysterious human civilizations. Denni Marko and his companion Valeri-Urla had come back, just as she promised and after two rounds of negotiations, they signed contracts for five voyages without any grimacing.
I now had an experienced gunner and a girl with strong psionic abilities and the unique ability to talk to animals. And Valeri’s pet had also come aboard, so I could now see Little Sister with my own eyes. The huge panther was a pure white color, could go invisible in the blink of an eye and could move through my frigate in utter silence. The Beast Master assured me that Little Sister was intelligent and never hurt her friends, so she wouldn’t cause any problems.
I caught a movement with the corner of my eye and turned. At last! Five steps away, I saw Minn-O La-Fin, finally back in the game. I wanted to lambast my “travelling wife” for her long absence, but I stopped as soon as I saw her. The Princess looked like a ghost and she could barely stand on her shaky legs. Seemingly, she was about to collapse! I quickly ran up and tried to hold her up in the literal and figurative sense.
Minn-O spent some time darting her mad unseeing eyes all around, then her gaze became more sensible, and focused on me.
“Gnat, my husband! If only you knew what happened!” my wayedda blurted out, hanging off my shoulders. Her pupils were wide in fear and pain. “There was a huge explosion at Thumor-Anhu’s funeral! I lost both legs!!! Lots of people died, all I could see were dead bodies and blood.”
Minn-O started weeping, recounting the horrible events. I then turned Lozovsky’s words over in my head about this “Emancipation from Mage Tyranny” group, the explosion as proof of their seriousness and the half a million crystals we paid for this. So then, now we had our proof... I asked my wayedda to concentrate and tell me what happened next, and how she managed to get back into the game. The Princess wiped her pouring tears and tried to answer, but constantly fell back into sobbing and lost her place:
“I came back around in a hospital... Instead of legs I had bandaged stumps... It didn’t hurt at all. I was probably on drugs or being treated with healing magic... Alongside the healers, there was a huge soldier in the tent, the ruler of the Second Directory General Ui-Taka... I recognized him... He said it was his order to have me woken up... Ui-Taka swore he was not involved in the explosion, but many mages accused him of it... Four Directories declared war on his Second Directory... But other mages think otherwise. They blame other mages... The Eighth and Fourth directories traded rocket strikes on their largest cities... The Fifth and Sixth declared war on the Third... There’s a great war underway... There have even been some pogroms and anti-mage uprisings... But then, Ui-Taka said I needed to go into my virt capsule so the game would heal me, and I could grow new legs... But at the very end, when I was being carried out of the hospital on a stretcher... the General stopped and asked me to tell my husband Gerd Gnat, that he wants to meet on neutral territory... for example the Geckho spaceport... as soon as possible... I am not totally sure, Gerd Gnat... I was on anesthetics and didn’t really understand... but I think he said he wants to offer you leadership of the Dark Faction.”
End of Book Three
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