Lost in Space

by Dmitry Raspopov

  “Please put this on. And keep it on while you work on the project.” Signing the last form, he handed me a steel-colored wristband.

  “Why?” I asked in surprise as I ran my fingertips over it. It was made from the same material as the ball.

  “Unfortunately, some participants told their close ones about the project despite signing the papers.” He openly admitted that we were bugged.

  How blatant.

  “This device will give you a warning when you attempt to disclose project information to anyone.”

  “A warning? How?” I asked with suspicion, fiddling with the wristband.

  “Say: yesterday I tested,” he advised venomously. Repeating these words, I got electrocuted.

  “Ah!” I dropped the wristband in surprise; it rolled down from the table and into the corner. “You should’ve warned me.”

  “I’m warning you now, Lieutenant Maximov.” His voice became strict. “Get a schedule from your supervisor. No uniform for you. You will get your salary at the end of each month, and allowance and bonuses on the 10th of each month. Any questions?”

  “Lots.” I stood up to pick up the wristband. It opened once I brought it close to my wrist and locked itself around it. I might as well been wearing handcuffs.

  “Direct them to your supervisor.” Rubbing his hands with satisfaction, he pointed at the door. Before leaving, I took my permanent security card—instead of the temporary one I got yesterday—and the military ID card which looked just like those I saw some my friends have.

  Once I left his office, I was intercepted by the female doctor who had been helping me yesterday. “I’m Captain Ivleva. Your new supervisor,” she said strictly. The broad smile on my face was probably too conspicuous. I was happy that I had been assigned to this pretty girl and not some stern military man.

  “Viktor. Pleased to meet you.” I outstretched my hand, but she just glanced at it with indignation. I pretended to scratch my itching nose.

  “Come. We have work to do.” She turned round on her heels. I followed, feasting my eyes upon her slender body dressed in a doctor’s white smock.

  Soon we descended to the basement and into the familiar hall. There were no nasty feelings or pain this time. Quickly and smoothly, I was transported into the game, reaching the familiar hangar that seemed to have expanded significantly since yesterday. All military equipment was sorted by type and the quest-giving robots were spread evenly across the whole place. Once I approached the nearest robot, other people started to appear by my side, most of them were strangers. Judging by the astonishment on their faces, this was their first visit.

  Paying no heed to them, I came up to see the list of available quests. Surprisingly, the yesterday’s quest was no longer there. Instead, I could access a dozen new ones varying in completion time and rewards. I selected those with x10 first-attempt bonus and which required the least time to complete.

  Chapter 5

  You can’t select several quests at once, the system intervened instantly to ruin my attempt. The list changes after each completed quest and according to the game’s development.

  What a lousy helper. Wincing, I selected the shortest-duration quest among those with x10 bonus. “This one.”

  Level 1 quest accepted: X1ZF3 Planet Forest

  Duration: 2h

  First attempt bonus: x10

  Reward: 2,500 credits

  Fine for leaving the position early: -5,000 credits; -1 reputation with the Wargs

  Load the location map?

  “Load it.” I stepped on the teleportation circle.

  The planet was different this time; strange giant trees were obscuring the sky and the pillboxes were occupied by robots instead of humans.

  However, when the armed insects came, the robots shut down so I had to fight back alone; there was no other human within sight. Very soon I got the order to withdraw. Under enemy fire, I abandoned, leaving the camp to them. Walking through the jungle to my new destination, I barely avoided being devoured by predatory plants in whose traps I walked in twice. Everything was so lifelike; I even got chemical burns on my spacesuit from the plants' juice.

  The quest time was running out, but the destination marked on the location map was still far away.

  Shit, shit, shit, I swore mentally. So much for a short quest. I’ll be wary of such tasks in the future. Like hell I need this much trouble.

  I reached the teleportation point half an hour later. Seeing the robot, I spat at it with loathing, soiling my helmet visor from inside; that made me even angrier.

  Mission complete! You get 2,500 credits, the system informed once I was back at the hangar. Mad because the game made me waste a lot of time, I picked an eight-hour quest next and stepped on the teleportation circle.

  This time the planet was rocky and flat like a table.

  Happy that it had no bloody jungle like the last one did, I took my position in the trench.. Before I could do that, however, I head to clean my spot as there was a good amount of ground on it. The trench must've been dug out in a hurry. Having no appropriate tools for this purpose, I used my space-gloved hands.

  A noise came from behind. I turned round fast and was glad to see more people come out of the teleport. Even though I was in an armored spacesuit, I could hear the outside noise perfectly. I could even regulate the sound volume.

  A man flopped down on my left and waved his hand. “Hi. Are we together again?” I heard his voice inside my helmet.

  “Hi,” I replied in surprise. “We couldn’t talk yesterday, could we?”

  “Activate the Teamwork skill,” he said. “I can’t hear you.”

  I nodded and opened the skill menu, or rather the giant web of skills that my character could unlock.

  Take or not? Finding the Teamwork skill, I thought it over. On one hand, I would need it to pilot a fighter. On the other—how many skill slots would I be unlocking with each level up? I’d rather leave my only slot available until I knew for sure how many new ones I would get and how fast I would be getting them. What if I learn a skill now and then have no free slot for the one I really need? Or don't have enough skill points to unlock the fighter and have to choose a less costly way of transport instead?

  Glancing at the transport skills, I saw they didn't rely on Teamwork, but on a skill called Combat Liaison. Checking the hints that kept popping up, I learned that Combat Liaison could be transferred from one machine unit to all the other units within 500 yards, eliminating the need for each soldier to train the skill individually. The presence of such machines provided a buff, enabling everyone to hear each other.

  Good thing I didn’t rush to get it without a second thought, I thought. There were no such machines on our location since no one had yet trained to operate them; I now knew better than to spend my slots and points on what could be provided by other units for free.

  Reaching this conclusion, I turned to the nerd who was glancing at me impatiently and wrote NO in the dirt with my finger.

  He shrugged and looked at his other neighbor. As neither of them paid any more attention to me, both of them must have had the Teamwork skill.

  Fortunately—if one may use this word in a situation like this—at that very moment we were suddenly attacked by insects. This time, the running mantises were preceded by weird teardrop-shaped machines bustling about the field with quite a speed, easily moving back, forth, and to either side despite having no wheels. Their purpose became clear when their sharp ends started to shoot balls of strange green substance. The projectiles landed silently, with no droning or explosive sound, but when I saw one of the hit spots, I realized that I’d rather stay clear of those. The hard, rocky ground was now a blazing, six-foot wide shell-hole. The ground and stone within it had melted and everything was instantly caked in a red-hot mess.

  Soon enough I got to see the damage it did to our armored spacesuits. One of the shells landed close to my trench, spraying green drops over my sleeve. I swept them off quickly, but I was too la
te; the sleeve already got a big tear, revealing my arm. As the spacesuit was depressurized, red lines flashed before my eyes:

  Oxygen critically low.

  Oxygen left: 90%... 89%... 88%... 87%... 86%...

  High-aggressive environment.

  Sulfurous gases level exceeded by 30%.

  Armor damage: 10%.

  I closed the last message and focused on the declining oxygen levels. I used to think I had an endless supply, but I didn't. Very detailed... They’ve even cared to make such minor aspects realistic.

  As if this wasn't bad enough, my arm burned as if I had dipped it in boiling water. Hurriedly, I dug through the tabs and hints to see what I could do to fix that. At last, my search yielded a useful tip. Jumping out of the trench, I rushed to the teleport.

  “First-aid kit!” I commanded to the robot standing by it. The robot’s belly opened, revealing a small rectangular box. Opening it, I found the spray featured in the visual hint, and pressed the button to apply the foam all over the hole in my spacesuit.

  Soon, my arm was hidden beneath a coating of what looked like black rubber. As far as I knew, it offered no protection in battle, but it blocked the aggressive environment impacts.

  Oxygen left: 80%

  High-aggressive environment: threat removed.

  Sulfurous gases level: threat removed.

  Armor damage: partially fixed.

  As the spacesuit airtightness was restored, I could take a breath without seeing my oxygen level decrease, or feeling my arm blister from the exposure to the outer air. The pain subsided a bit, but still I felt uneasy that I couldn't examine or treat my wounded arm. Instead, I put one of the metal cylinders found in the first-aid kit onto the designated spot located on the chest of my spacesuit. After a soft psss, a feeling of relief came. I don’t know what was in that cylinder, but, removing it, I saw a small hole in its side, probably enabling the spacesuit wearer to receive medical aid without removing or depressurizing the suit. The visual hint stated that I should apply the items from the kit only to that special spot on my chest.

  Once I was done fiddling with the wound, I returned to the trench. We were still under fire, with occasional red rays flashing back from our side. Odd as that may have seemed, the mantises still avoided coming close to our positions and were hiding behind their machines.

  A noise came from behind. Looking back, I saw the man whom I’d met yesterday, the one who had replaced his rifle with the alien tube, appear from the teleport.

  Without looking around, he jumped down into an empty trench and, quickly retrieving the tube from his back, aimed at one of the teardrop machines. I was not the only one watching him shoot. When a big hole with burnt edges appeared on the teardrop surface, I heard my neighbor’s astonished voice inside the spacesuit: “Did you see that? Did you? I’ll be damned if I don’t get that thing today for myself. I wish I hadn't traded mine for credits.”

  After the man fired three more times, destroying more machines, the surviving ones retreated quickly, occasionally shooting from the distance. Most of their attacks misfired. The insects immediately followed their machines.

  Over the remaining quest time we were attacked twice, but each attack was repelled. The man with the alien tube was a great shot, hitting and destroying the machines crawling over the flat plateau as if they were sitting ducks in a shooting gallery. We supported him by firing our rifles to keep the mantises away.

  When the countdown reached zero, those who had come first rushed to the teleport, leaving those whose time was not yet out on the battlefield. I didn’t collect any loot this time; the insects effectively prevented us from getting onto the plateau, firing heavily at everyone trying to reach the dead bodies or the destroyed machines.

  Quest complete! You get 10,000 credits.

  Chapter 6

  Feeling worn out, I leaned against the hangar wall. The eight real-world hours in the game were physically hard. Although my body was not tired, my brain was sending a very clear message: Enough for today.

  A moment before leaving I took a glance at my stats.

  Character: NameNotSelected

  Level: 3

  Class: Infantry

  Free skill slots: 1

  Free skill points: 5

  Galaxy credits: 38,000

  Reputation with the Wargs: 2

  As far as I remembered, this panel had no reputation levels the last time I opened it. They must be adding the features I’m acquiring, I guessed, leaving the game.

  “Lieutenant? How are you?” Opening my eyes, I saw my supervisor’s anxious face.

  “Great.” I was surprised at her apparent concern. “Is everything all right?”

  “Yes, of course. But you’ve spent ten hours in the game. You’re the first civil tester leaving it after such a long time without any problems.” She took another sample of my blood, and gestured me to leave the ball.

  “I met others.” I followed her, feeling much better than the last time. The game dive had been much easier. I did feel a bit light headed, but I could move on my own. Refusing the military men’s assistance, I came to the couch and lay down.

  “All indicators are normal. Adrenaline levels are slightly above the norm, but that’s to be expected after such a long dive.” Completing the analysis, she turned to me. “Enough gaming for you today, I think. What about tomorrow? At the same time?”

  “You didn’t answer me,” I said with displeasure. “I saw other people there. Why am I the first one to play ten hours straight?”

  “You may go, Lieutenant.” She turned away, getting back to some work of hers.

  Casting an evil glare at her, I went home. I probably won't get any answers there. Apart from what I had asked about, I was curious as to why I had heard at least three different languages during the battle. With my good command of English and some German, I could tell for sure that I had been addressed by native speakers, not some Russians trying to demonstrate their linguistic knowledge. There was not the slightest hint of an accent in their speech.

  ***

  On my way home, I suddenly recalled the supervisor’s slip of the tongue I hadn’t noticed it right away. She said: “civil tester”. Does that mean they have military testers, too? That’s quite unsurprising... Well, the game was developed by the military.

  But why was that military pilot in our testing group then? Did they add him on purpose?

  I had more questions than answers. Apparently, no one was going to introduce me to the testing program or its results. They were treating me like a regular user.

  Entering the apartment, I was surprised to see that Masha wasn’t home yet. I told Home to cook a dinner for two and went to the bathroom to take a shower. I spent quite some time enjoying the jets of hot water. Feeling a blow of cold air followed by a hot body clinging to mine, I smiled happily.

  “Where’ve you been?” I turned to put my hands on her springy buttocks and squeezed them slightly.

  “A total madhouse of a day.” Masha clung to my chest. I turned the water pressure up to make it sufficient for the two of us. “TV first. Then the Gaming World magazine. Then meeting with friends. I went to the gym, too. I didn't have much time for training while we were preparing for the tournament. That probably took a toll...”

  “My hands tell me otherwise,” I complimented her, patting her toned body. She’s more muscular than I’m ever going to be.

  “And how are you?” She snatched the scrubber and rubbed me with soap.

  “Ten hours of gaming.” I shrugged, letting her wash my chest. “Gameplay's rather boring, to be honest. Very repetitive. Good thing that I’m getting paid for it. I certainly wouldn't be playing it for free.”

  “What exactly do you do there?”

  “Er…” Before I could say anything, both of us screamed in pain.

  “Ah! Did you just electrocute me?” Masha jumped away, scratching her arm.

  “Oh, sorry. I totally forgot.” I showed her my wristband. “Looks like I’m no
t allowed to say even that much. Though it didn’t react to my first sentence. What idiot programmed it?”

  “Your employers are total brutes.” She resumed washing me, casting apprehensive glances at the metal wristband. “Can’t you remove it while you shower?”

  “Unfortunately I can’t. I can’t see any way to remove it.” I showed her the wristband again so that she could make sure it had nothing like a clasp or a button.

  “What about dumping that job?” she handed me the scrubber to use it on her back. “That doesn’t look safe.”

  “Seventy-two thousand per year, Masha,” I reminded her. “What other job will pay me that much?”

  “You could join another team. I’ve been asked if you’re considering any offers.”

  “Don’t you know on what terms they dumped me?” I was surprised. “Wasn’t that discussed at your meeting?”

  “No. He just forced that choice upon us. That’s all.” She looked up at me with guilty eyes, uttering a soft moan when the scrubber slipped a bit below her back.

  “I’m prohibited to join any professional team for three years,” I informed her. The girl arched her back, responding to my moves.

  “That’s damn stupid. Why?”

  “Dunno. Perhaps they fear that I’ll get a new ship and become a dangerous rival.” I shrugged. “Empire, as far as I know, still has Nikita’s ship.”

  “Yeah. They’ve asked me about you,” she moaned rather than said.

  “Let’s have sex. I’m dying for it.” I flung the scrubber into the corner. The girl embraced my idea—and me—willingly.

  ***

  “A weird condition. Really weird.” We watched her TV interview while having dinner in the living room; we were tired, but happy.

  “Forget it, Masha. I don’t give a damn. I now have a new job. I’ve read the contract carefully. Testing will last six months at least. After that, if everything goes well, I’ll become a full-time employee. I’ve farmed 40,000 credits in just two days. I can live on that. Although I don’t know the exact conversion rate.”