Lost in Space

by Dmitry Raspopov

  Specified questions were coming from the audience, but the main points were already made clear. We get to keep all of our earned money, including the cost of our weapons and transport. Our game accounts will be transferred from state to personal ownership. Then all of the servers will be WIPE’d to Level 1, setting all skill points, skill slots, and reputation levels to zero. And we’ll also get freebie capsules.

  “If there are no more questions, your supervisors will now start taking you out in small groups to avoid a crowd and you will leave the armed forces,” the colonel said, standing up with the other two officers. When they left, everyone started vividly discussing what we’d just heard, and exchanging contact info in order to keep playing together.

  I was not really interested in any of that, with a plan on how to start the game over again and make full use of the starter perks taking seed in my head. If the game will be played by people from fifty countries at once, the x10 quests will all be taken in a flash. I need to plan my time so as to be in the game as long as possible. At least shortly after release.

  “Captain Ivleva’s group,” a voice from the mike brought me back to reality. Hearing the familiar last name, I saw my supervisor standing by the entrance. Coming to her along with me were five more people.

  I had no idea she was supervising anyone but me, I thought with surprise, peering at the men whom I’d never met before.

  Mariya took us to the room where we signed the new NDAs prescribing us to hand our wristbands in after a month, then left our military IDs and security cards. When we were done with these procedures, she took us out through the entrance checkpoint to part with us.

  I lingered a bit. Suddenly, she stretched out a hand to me. Astonished, I shook her warm, narrow hand, feeling the girl tuck some small object into my palm. Blushing, she turned round quickly and left.

  Saying goodbye to the sentinels, I walked a considerable distance away before unclenching my fist to stare at what she’d given me; it was a small piece of paper with a handwritten phone number.

  So much about being a Snow Queen. I whistled, turning the note around. Did I really melt her heart?

  Life suddenly seemed wonderful, and my heart was chirping merrily like a bird. But this state of happiness was interrupted by a phone call. On the screen I saw the name of another Masha, far less menacing than the one who had handed me the note. “Yes, dear?”

  “When are you coming home? Amazing stuff’s going on here. Just wow!” her excited voice came from the speaker.

  “Soon.” Before I could say anything else, the call was interrupted.

  Frozen in place, I thought it over, considering all the options I had. The passers-by rounded me, casting surprised glances, but I didn’t care. The question I pondered over mattered to me far more than their displeasure.

  Finally making my mind up, I tore the note to small pieces and tossed them into the nearest bin before walking home. However much I liked my former supervisor, waiting for me at home was the girl I’d rather not lie to. A bit of workplace flirting was one thing, and meeting a girl like Captain Ivleva outside work was another. She’d probably like a closer physical contact than a mere handshake. I realized that I wouldn’t be able to resist the temptation if was left alone with her in private. Better not to see her again. Never.

  ***

  “Want a meal? I’ve ordered pudding. Just look at what’s going on all over the channels! What’re you gonna do? How was your day at work?”

  Once I crossed the threshold and took off my jacket, she embraced me, kissed me, and showered me with of questions. To stop that and calm her down a bit, I had to press against her and start fondling her.

  “I’m having a meal, dear,” she tried to object. “My hands are messy… Mmm… Later… Ah…Well, fine, but do it fast. You have to see the news.”

  I wasn’t fast. We came back to the living room only an hour later, after having had enough of each other and after we took a shower together. Masha looked happy, clinging to me while she switched the channels to show me the commercials featuring planets, ships, and other visuals of Galaxy.

  “Oh, how beautiful!” she was moved by the competently arranged scenes. “I wanna play it!”

  I was startled by them managing to present the battles as if they were a pleasant walk taken by soldiers. A couple of shots, people in armored spacesuits waving their hands merrily to the camera and insects fleeing in fear... Then the soldiers flashed the cards they used to receive credits. A footnote explained how much it was in dollars, euros, pounds, rubles, yuans, and other global currencies.

  After the infantry, they showed armored vehicles and tanks. The third commercial was about fighters and their battles in the planet’s atmosphere, everything vivid and colorful as to create the full effect of being there, forcing more “oohs” and “ahs” from Masha. Seeing the phone number for ordering the capsule with a connected Galaxy game account, she heaved a sigh. “Too bad that I’m leaving on the 15th. Otherwise I’d come play with you.”

  “Leaving where?” I asked in surprise.

  “Haven’t I told you?” she was surprised too. “Oh, please forgive me. I must have totally forgot with all this running about. In a short, a new Starry Sky tournament is upon us. The prize fund is half a million. We’ve decided to join it to have some practice before the major.”

  “I’m glad I found out.” I shook my head. “Wouldn’t want to wake up one morning to find you and your stuff gone.”

  She laughed. “Don’t worry. If I ever leave you, I’ll surely leave you a note.”

  “Thank you so much,” I said ironically, not sharing her amusement.

  “Oh, don’t be so serious.” She slapped my hand. “Let’s order two capsules. I’ve long wanted to upgrade mine, and his is basically a freebie.”

  “Okay.” I picked up my smart device to look up the number.

  She didn’t get why I did that. “The number’s right there. On the screen.”

  “We got a different one,” I explained. “A staff-only one. They made dedicated lines for certain customer groups such as VIPs or testers.”

  “Cool,” Masha rejoiced at a shorter waiting time. “Order them now!”

  Shaking my head, I found the number.

  After just two beeps, a polite female voice came: “The Galaxy Company greets you.”

  “Hi. I’d like to order two capsules as a replacement for the old ones. Un-installation and installation services included.”

  “Please state your name,” she asked.

  I spelled out my military ID from the card I’d just handed in; this ID also served as caller ID for this line. My order was immediately accepted. I was asked to specify the delivery date and the models of the old capsules.

  “That’s all.” Disconnecting, I turned to Masha who’d been listening to the whole thing. “They’ll bring them tomorrow.”

  “So fast.” She was surprised.

  “Fast enough for you to take a look at the new capsule,” I informed with some pride, recalling the jelly-like filling of the bed that hardened to take the precise shape of the user’s body. I didn’t tell her about that, though; my wristband kept administering electric shocks to me at times, reminding that some particular details were not to be shared even with my closest ones.

  Chapter 12

  “Taxi’s here.”

  Masha was in the living room when the smart device informed that the car had arrived.

  Putting the wind-breaker on, as the mornings were rather cold, I picked up her small suitcase.

  “I can carry it myself, dear.” The girl pretended that she didn’t need my help, but I knew Masha too well to believe that. She was always hungry for attention.

  “Come,” I grumbled as she observed herself in the hall mirror, fixing her make-up.

  “I can’t go looking like this,” she protested, taking out more makeup stuff. Only after passing her own Q&A did she put her shoes on and left the apartment. I followed, suitcase in hand.

  Waitin
g for me to put the bag into the trunk, she kissed me and gave me her last instructions: “Well, see you. Be a good boy. Answer my calls.”

  “Not this evening. That’s when the game begins,” I reminded her. “I’ll need to spend as much time as possible in it to get x10 quests while they’re still available.”

  “At least don’t forget to eat.” She shook her head, but said nothing more, just got into the car and waved at me through the window.

  Seeing her off, I came back home and lay down to get some more sleep. Her getting ready in the morning had woken me up much earlier than usual. Now, staying alone, I could make up for the lost hours.

  “Home. Alarm signal at 5PM.”

  Getting the AI’s confirmation that the alarm was set, I got out of my clothes and collapsed onto the bed which still smelled like Masha.

  ***

  The blaring of the alarm woke me up. Displeased, I muttered: “Switch it off.”

  The noise stopped instantly. “Would you like dinner, Viktor?” Home inquired. “The ordered groceries have been delivered today. I could cook you a new dish.”

  “How come you have new recipes?” I was so astonished that I even opened my eyes. I’d wiped Home’s database clean a year before to avoid being served any meals I disliked.

  “Mariya loaded a new recipe list yesterday,” the AI kindly informed.

  I groaned. “I asked her to inform me of any changes!” That was surely not the AI’s fault, but I had no one else to voice my complaints to. “Please only cook the meals from the old list,” I asked and then added vindictively: “When Masha comes, cook for her only the meals from the new list.”

  “Note added to memory. Starting to cook.”

  While Home cooked dinner, I took a shower. I still had two hours before the game started, which was a plenty of time.

  Oddly enough I’d been sleeping for the whole day. I usually woke no later than 11AM at weekends. This probably because of my accumulated fatigue.

  Glancing at the smart device, I spotted a couple of new messages. Opening them, I learned that Masha had boarded the plane a few hours before and that she’d write to me again upon arrival. No response was needed, so I just sent a kissing emoji.

  “Dinner is ready, Viktor,” the AI informed. “Would you like it served to the living room?”

  “Yeah. And switch the game news on.”

  The TV still featured the Galaxy campaign further heated up by the anchors betting on whether its release would set a new global record of simultaneous online presence. Personally, I believed it would, judging by how much money they put in advertising it all over the globe.

  Thus, I got my capsule into the queue, typing in my game account info the very moment the registration opened. Now I only had to wait for the official start. I had my plan written down. I just have to remember it once I’m in. I went over it in my head once more to refresh my memory.

  The AI’s voice took me by surprise: “Half an hour before start, Viktor.”

  “Really?” I wondered. “An hour and a half passed already?”

  “Yes. You asked to be reminded.”

  I quickly stripped down to my underwear and headed for the brand-new capsule. Masha and I had tried them out the very first day. She squeaked with delight, feeling the pleasant, strange material and the gel surface inside of the capsule, disbelieving that it could harden beneath the body. Only after lying down and squealing delightfully at seeing the bed take the shape of her body, congealing in all proper places, did she give the new capsule a top rating. She had even praised it to the team at the next practice session, despite them being skeptical.

  “Home. All reminders off. Hold my calls.” Lying down, I gave the last orders. “Put I’m too busy playing auto-response everywhere.”

  “Done, Viktor.”

  I closed the lid, then my eyes.

  There was a slight tunnel effect and I came to peer at the virtual wall with game advertising blocking my way and featuring the large, blinking digits of the countdown.

  Glancing at the queue count, I nodded to myself with satisfaction, finding out that I was five-thousand-and-something in the line. When I’d just listed my capsule, my number was ten-thousand-something. I hope their servers can manage such a traffic, I thought, watching the time run. If they crash, that will be an epic fail.

  Actually, I doubted that the global start of a game developed and supervised by the military—although none of the TV news or advertisements ever mentioned tem being involved, presenting the publisher as a private company—could be ruined by a fail like that. Seeing how the testing process had been organized and what perks had been received by the testers, I developed a belief that everything would be perfect.

  Busying myself with my reflection, I waited for the digits to flash 00:00. This was immediately followed by the familiar feeling of getting sucked into the game.

  I was in the midst of the starting square, surrounded by lots of other players gaping around with astonishment. I watched more and more people arrive with every second, instantly filling the vast space. The more players appeared, the greater the square became, scaling exactly as much as it had to in order to avoid a crash. Despite the large number of players arriving at such a crazy speed I failed to estimate how many people it now had altogether.

  Character: NameNotSelected

  Level: 1

  Class: Infantry

  Free skill slots: 6

  Free skill points: 30

  Galaxy credits: 1,504,500

  Reputation with the Wargs: 0

  The game interface flashed, distracting me and offering help with sorting out the interface, map, settings, and anything else needed for a newbie to start playing.

  I didn’t notice the skill slot and skill point values at first, wondering how much the military had estimated my apartment at, adding 500,000 credits on top of the million on my account. But then my attention was caught by the other non-zero values.

  WHAT? I almost screamed aloud, realizing that it was probably was wipe bug. What else could explain the character level and reputation being appropriate for a starter, while the skill slots and points were the same as before? I hadn’t spent any of those during the testing period, saving them for the time after I’d buy a fighter.

  Calm down, Viktor. I looked around. The giant crowd stood still, probably reading the starter info, but many of the newcomers were purposefully walking straight to the square’s edge where they could get a taxi.

  If that’s a bug, they can fix it anytime. I hastily pondered what to do now. Should I stick to the initial plan or make decisions on the go, considering the new circumstances?

  When the initial astonishment was gone, I thought it over again and decided on the first option. They could remove the skill points at any time once they discover the bug; my rejoicing at keeping them was premature. Let’s forget the skill points then and get some shopping done.

  Making this decision, I headed for the familiar building where I’d bought the apartment last time. The sale sign was in place, and so was the reception girl.

  “Interested in buying real estate, sir? We have a special discount today.” She repeated her past speech exactly, word for word.

  “May I buy an apartment now?”

  “Sure. And even more: all our residents are provided with personal warehouse spaces that they can use to store their trophies in.”

  She sounded like an NPC, following the algorithm precisely without deviating from it even by a word. I decided to check by asking a question similar to the past one yet slightly different: “What are the prices?”

  “The standard apartment is 100,000 credits. De Luxe is 500,000. Penthouse is one million Galaxy credits. Please note that the 50% opening day discount applies.”

  Yes, she is an NPC, I concluded by her standard responses. Maybe I should get the De Luxe? The standard apartment’s personal warehouse was not really impressive compared with those in the more expensive ones. I’d rather spare some money. But, on the ot
her hand, that’s the De Luxe. And money…I can always make more on quests.

  “De Luxe, please.” I stretched out my hand to leave a fingerprint on the digital contract she had ready. Immediately after, I was given the personal key I should take care not to lose, as well as the floor and door numbers of my new suite.

  I didn’t go up to check it out for two reasons: first, I’d been there before, and second, I had one more purchase to make, the one I’d been striving and preparing for so long.

  Once I left the building, I called a taxi. When it ascended half way up the skyscraper, I got to appraise the scale of the starting square expansion: it seemed to have become ten times as large as when I’d first arrived at it. All of the other buildings and the whole city had moved apart, making space for the arriving players, which were filling the surrounding streets. Never before had I seen that many people in one place.

  This game seems to be heading for new popularity records. I saw the flying traffic flow not only become denser, but also separate into three levels. Maybe it’ll even overtake the big names.

  I couldn’t help but smile when as I realized that Starry Sky might soon become deserted if Galaxy kept developing and attracting players.

  That would be a real bummer for some. This revengeful thought came suddenly and it warmed my heart. Sure, it was too early to talk about this scenario, but it seemed highly probable in the future.

  My pleasant flow of thought was interrupted by the taxi’s descend onto the sidewalk as it arrived to my destination. My account was instantly charged with the cost of the ride.

  I entered the shop I’d visited almost every day during the last week.

  “Good afternoon, sir. What would you like? We have the best ships in Galaxy for any occasion,” the shop assistant greeted me.