A Jump into the Unknown (Reality Benders Book #5) LitRPG Series

by Michael Atamanov

  “This thing might as well be a light cruiser!” my business partner Uline Tar admired, walking a circle around the starship and rumbling in delight.

  “In terms of shield capacity and firepower, yes. It is equivalent to a light cruiser,” agreed Engineer Orun Va-Mart, writing down the parameters of various systems and making some calculations. “But in terms of maneuvering and speed, this ship is almost as good as an interceptor! I never would have thought it possible. They’ve combined the practically incompatible, but I’m especially surprised that they managed to get the energy balanced. What a miracle! This thing is the embodiment of elegant design with its mutually compensated overload of the dual particle streams from its power units, which gives it enough power to accommodate a whole three cruiser-class modules. Whoever dreamed this up is a true genius of engineering thought!”

  Astrolinguistics skill increased to level ninety-five!

  I didn’t always understand what the Engineer was talking about. That skill boost was because I had learned some new terms, but I was studying the ship parameters myself from the captain’s tablet and just couldn’t find the words to adequately express my admiration of this starship. This thing can do some fancy footwork! It was no interceptor, of course, but still was very respectable. Amazing speed! And what impressive firepower! In battle, one of these was equivalent to three Tolili-Ukh X frigates in “long-distance raider configuration” like I had before. But the problem was that, to fully service all its systems and realize the ship’s full potential, it needed a crew of forty-five or even fifty players. I though had less than half that.

  “As I thought...” Dmitry Zheltov came down the ladder to the bridge with a sour look on his face. “Captain, we can’t go anywhere just yet! Everything is written in Meleyephatian. I can’t understand a damn thing! And the image on the screens is flickering so fast I can’t even make anything out. Instead of a normal helm, this has a weird roller in a spiral-shaped slit. There aren’t even any pilot seats yet, just brackets on the floor to hold onto! It’s like I’m back on our old frigate when Ayukh and I just got it out of the underground factory!”

  We couldn’t use the ship? I started to get upset, but bushy-tailed Engineer Orun Va-Mart reassured me:

  “Nothing to worry about, captain. Replacing the instrument panels with ones better suited to other races won’t take too long. And neither will installing stairs instead of these ghastly wall brackets, or getting adequate furniture for the residential berths. And as luck would have it, we are at the largest trade hub in this part of the galaxy. We can just buy everything we need here! I think we should set aside six or seven ummis for reconfiguration. If of course Uline Tar will set aside the funds.”

  Uline Tar looked at me, waited for a nod of confirmation and, after calling the Supercargo and Engineer, the two of them took a deep dive into calculating exactly what we’d need to reconfigure our starship.

  “Human. New ship. Very expensive. But didn’t give interceptors up. Two. Does not compute. Finances. And second role does not compute. After Uline Tar,” the Jarg Analyst, bouncing amusingly down the starship corridors after me, was practicing forming complex logical chains and did in fact truly point out a few clear discrepancies.

  I had to explain, and fairly loudly at that, so all crew members would hear me, that I had gotten this starship in exchange for the coordinates of an ancient Relict artifact cache, which false Anya told me. And the damaged interceptors... here I filled my lungs with air and spoke decisively:

  “We will not be selling the interceptors! As soon as they’re finished, both interceptors will be sent back to Earth. I’m starting to build a space fleet to patrol the Solar System and defend my home planet!”

  Authority increased to 75!

  I was afraid that one of the crew might object and say the two interceptors were our shared trophy from the war with the pirate Pride of the Bushy Shadow, and it would only be fair for everyone to get a piece of the big pie. But no, it all went smoothly. Even my furry friend Uline Tar didn’t have anything to say, though the Trader always had a very reverent attitude toward money. But here her share, around four million crypto, had just slipped through her paws. My business partner may have been too busy discussing the purchase list with my crew. But most likely she was totally baffled and didn’t know how to share the profits of our joint enterprise after I made such a large contribution as a swanky new starship.

  Finally, Uline Tar walked over to me and, running her eyes over the purchase list one last time, said the total:

  “Two million eight hundred twenty thousand crystals is what it’ll cost to reconfigure the frigate and buy all the furniture. That’s the minimum. Or four million crystals if we’re going for luxury. In any case, we need to know where to get all that money.”

  I transferred Uline four million in silence. That was approximately half the money I had in my personal account. That made a clear impression on the Trader, who was imagining a long hard slog to gather the funds needed to modernize our starship. Uline spent a long time in thought, staring at the screen of her palmtop. And I think I knew what had her worried and doubting. Much had changed since our initial understandings. I no longer needed her money so badly. Well, to be more accurate, I didn’t need it at all. On the other hand, to be fair, Uline was the one who killed the level-207 Meleyephatian Spy. And that was the key event that opened up these new horizons for us. In fact, in theory, the captain’s key to the new frigate was her trophy. Sure, Uline wouldn’t have been able to do much with it on her own, but still the key was worth quite a lot. In any case, as business partners, the time had come to discuss new “rules of the game.”

  “Our understandings remain in force. A third of the take will still be yours,” I reassured my friend with a mental message.

  The Geckho lady bowed in silence – not a common gesture for Geckho, she must have seen humans doing it. By the looks of things, keeping the status quo intact was more than fine by her. Then she walked up closer as if she wanted to say something or make a request, but just shifted awkwardly from foot to foot, unable to work up the courage to say anything. And Uline Tar didn’t communicate out loud, instead meeting eyes with me and suggesting that I read her request mentally.

  “Gnat, we have more room on the frigate now. Do you think I could have my own berth now? Like Tini?”

  I couldn’t hold back a smile. So this was what had my friend so upset! My ward Tini did in fact have a separate berth on the old frigate, which was a source of jealousy for the rest of the crew and a real bone of contention. A few of my crew, especially “high-profile” players, had also asked me for their own berth, but I refused them all because there wasn’t enough space before.

  My ward was given that privilege as a reward for stealing the trophy tail of the Great Priestess of the Miyelonian race from Fox the Morphian and thus earning us the funds to fix up our first starship. And I was planning to continue providing the little Thief his own berth. I made him that promise with no expiration date or reservations. And my word was worth something!

  Now, Uline Tar was coming to ask for her own bunk... Okay then, I could afford to make an exception and underline her special privileged position as first mate, especially given that most crew members considered my business partner the true owner of the ship. Although our cleverest crew member, the Jarg Analyst, had already started to suspect that Uline was now subordinate in our joint enterprise. That made raising Uline Tar’s status in the eyes of the crew all the more proper.

  I signed off on Uline Tar getting a separate berth, which I immediately told all team members nearby.

  “Thank you, captain! Oh...” Uline froze with her eyes open wide in surprise. “I... I just became a Gerd!!!”

  Our Uline has become a high-profile player!!! I was first to congratulate my gorgeous friend on the important in-game milestone. After that, congratulations started pouring down from all sides. Uline Tar was respected and loved in the crew for her fairness, restraint and good judgement. Af
ter a diffuse “congratulations” to the object of public admiration, as if in passing, Tini added that he was nearly up to the requirements himself and might also become a high-profile player soon.

  “Tini, you’ll be the fifth member of the ‘flying above the crowd’ club on our ship!” Gerd Mauu-La Mya-Ssa guffawed, clearly playing on the traditional translation of the ancient word “Gerd” as “elevated above the crowd.”

  “Sixth,” I corrected the Miyelonian Medic. “Gerd Minn-O La-Fin will be returning to our crew. She’ll reach the station in one day.”

  The news of my wayedda’s return caused a storm of jubilation among all those who knew Minn-O. Even Valeri-Urla, who had hinted at warm feelings for me on a number of occasions, was sincerely delighted at the Princess’s return, which surprised me quite a bit. I was actually expecting the Tailaxian to have the exact opposite reaction to her rival coming back.

  I must have spent too much time staring at Valeri, and thus attracted her attention. Or maybe the Beastmaster really had managed to read my thoughts. In any case, Valeri-Urla gave an astonishingly accurate mental answer to my unasked question:

  “You’re probably wracking your brains over why I have a good opinion of your wayedda. You want me to answer as honestly as possible? You simply haven’t yet earned the right to be with me, and that means I have no reason to be jealous of other beautiful women around you. Furthermore, there is only one role I would accept for myself – your sole or at the very least senior wife. So your junior ‘travelling’ wife doesn’t bother me one bit. But again, I repeat, don’t get ahead of yourself. Denni Marko and I knew each other for five years, and he never earned the right to be with to me.”

  The mental contact broke off just as suddenly as it began, leaving me in a state of deep contemplation. Valeri spent five years stringing along an admirer! No wonder Denni finally lost it and turned his attention to other women. And another thing... I might have been wrong, of course, but I was getting the impression that over the course of our relationship, Valeri-Urla had examined me and found a “key” to my mental defense. She just had too easy a time slipping her thoughts into my head. I shook my head sharply, driving off the flood and returning to what was going on around me.

  Gerd Uline Tar, still overjoyed about her promotion, loudly philosophized aloud:

  “Fame is traditionally considered the very hardest parameter to improve. But with our Captain Gnat, that is not the case at all! There’s always something unusual happening with him. The words ‘Leng Gnat’ are constantly in the ears of people throughout the galaxy. His black energy armor suit is always on their screens, and his glowing eyes always blinking on the news. And though it isn’t always positive, our captain is being discussed, so it doesn’t matter. Most importantly – his Fame is growing. And along with it, Leng Gnat’s companions’ Fame is growing. At this rate, we’ll have a starship team made up of nothing but Gerds and Lengs soon enough!”

  Everyone around laughed, having found my first mate’s words an amusing joke. I laughed along with the rest, but I was thinking to myself that Uline was right in many ways.

  I really was dreaming of having only the best of the best in my crew. After all, growing your level and skills is not the only way to get stronger. There is another, more effective method – investing the eight extra statistic points awarded after achieving “status.” And that first promotion to the rank of Gerd required high Fame. And that meant increasing that parameter for my crew members! Any flashy events Team Gnat took part in needed to be broadcast to as wide an audience as possible!

  “Ayni, I’ve got something for you,” I said, cautiously embracing the orange kitty by her waist and pulling her away from the rest of the crew. “Do you still have the contact info of that dark-furred Journalist that was shooting footage on our war with the Pride of the Bushy Shadow? Excellent! Get in touch with her and say that we might have some nice material in the works for her. But to get it, the Journalist will have to take a short space flight on our ship.”

  Gerd Ayni didn’t understand one bit of my vague explanation, but promised to pass it along to her acquaintance.

  “Alright. Now the most important part: I want you to get in touch with Miyelonian counterintelligence. Yes, you heard me right. And don’t looks so afraid. I have important information for them. Tell them that Leng Gnat has reason to believe that his recently acquired frigate has several high-level Meleyephatian Horde Spies on board in an inactive state. I believe they are planning on secretly escaping the Kasti-Utsh III station that way, having finished an assignment to track the Miyelonian fleet. If they ask what made me think so, tell them intuition, and a few thought fragments I read from the Meleyephatian artifact Trader Ayzzz 117. If they want to check my words, have them look for Ayzzz 117 on the station. I suspect they will not be able to find him, because he will be leaving Kasti-Utsh III shortly.”

  The Miyelonian turned serious and looked tense. She reminded me more of a hound ready to snap than a peaceable inoffensive Translator. Gerd Ayni promised to get in touch with Alliance of Miyelonian Prides counterintelligence, just clarified what I wanted the Miyelonians to do about it.

  “Have a squadron of Miyelonian players sneak onto my starship as covertly as possible. We have limited space and narrow corridors, so we’ll need fast hand-to-hand fighters with traditional Miyelonian blades. It would be good for them to bring Resonators along, too. They’re highly effective against Meleyephatian weaponry, as practice has shown. Well and Paralyzers... or whatever they have for capturing enemy players alive. I suspect that fifteen to twenty high-level fighters will be enough. And all of them should have strong defense against mental control. Have them sneak onto the ship and immediately exit the game. Then they will patiently await our signal that the Meleyephatians have revealed themselves, and enter the game all at once to teach them a lesson!”

  I stopped, looked at my fluffy friend and made a suggestion:

  “And by the way! You could serve as our ‘signal!’ At the first sign of Meleyephatians on board, you leave the game and call for help. Have them give you a button or find some other method. And then the soldiers, lying in wait in their virt pods, can enter as well. A classic ‘log-in trap.’ My friends and I used to use that tactic often in online games... anyway, it doesn’t matter. Most important is making sure the Miyelonians don’t sleep through it and do in fact intervene. And just imagine what great footage that will make for the Journalist! In my world, news agencies would be so eager to get their hands on that tape, they’d rip it away from you arms and all! I also have one condition – the Union of Miyelonian Prides will be paying for all damage incurred by my starship in the course of the battle!”

  Chapter Nineteen. One Against All

  ON MY WAY DOWN from corncob number fifteen, I ran into a whole delegation of directors and important Human-3 Faction players: Ivan Lozovsky, Valentin Ustinov, Igor Tarasov, and Alexander Antipov. Also in their midst for some reason was a member of my crew, Vasily Andreyevich Filippov, even though the Bard’s faction had already changed to Relict. They all looked high-strung and were rushing me along:

  “Hurry up, Kirill! Second exit, get to the chopper! They’ve been waiting for us in Moscow for some time already!”

  Past the residential buildings and service structures, they led me to a whole other way out of the Dome I didn’t even suspect existed. But what was really so surprising? In more than a month and a half living under the Dome, I had not once taken pains to really get to know the place, spending practically all my time in the game that bends reality. Security let our group through without even the barest check, and we literally ran down the well-lit corridor to the elevator shaft. The second exit had a high-speed elevator, and it took our group to the roof of some tall building. There was a cold pouring rain, and shaggy dark clouds low enough to nearly touch the buildings. And just ten yards from the elevator door we discovered a military-style chopper ready for liftoff.

  “Hurry up, let’s get in!” Alexander Antipov
was nervous. “We’re already forty minutes late! Oh my, I can just tell we’re gonna get chewed out for being late!”

  The helicopter was already spinning up its rotors and we ran forward, bending down low. I didn’t even have time to plop down in a seat before we took off from the platform and, at a height of just one-hundred-fifty feet, started tearing off directly south. Through the gaps in the dark clouds, I got my bearings and could approximately see where the huge underground Dome facility was located. It really was completely underground – you couldn’t even see a slight hill on the surface.

  “To Onega-3,” Antipov reminded the pilot, but the flyboy seemingly already knew that.

  I tried to start a conversation with Vasily Filippov to find out what we would be discussing, but the Bard only answered that he had also been urgently pulled out of the game, so he knew just as little as me. The experienced military specialist noted only that: “If we’re going to Onega-3, it means this is a very serious matter. They don’t have meetings there for minor issues.”

  The flight lasted at most ten minutes before the rotor-winged vehicle landed in the fenced-in territory of a military compound. We jumped out before the rotors came to a complete stop. From there, we walked at a quick pace through innumerable corridors, until we unexpectedly found ourselves on a brightly lit stage in a small room that was totally immersed in darkness. Despite the subterfuge, my vision was good enough for me to see everyone’s faces. There were thirty people, mostly wearing army uniforms.

  On the stage, there were seven armchairs arranged in a semicircle, two of which were already occupied by people I didn’t know. First was a gray-haired bearded man with the appearance of a typical professor wearing a toxic green athletic suit labeled “H23 Faction” that looked wildly inappropriate on him. Next to the professor was a young redheaded woman of thirty years in a severe business suit, and she was the one currently speaking based on the microphone and projector remote in her hands: