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

by Michael Atamanov

  Once when we were lying in bed embracing after a storm of passion, I admitted to Minn-O that I had known about her pregnancy for a long time.

  “You’re going to have a boy!” I told her what I knew about the fetus from my scans. “And our boy is already a Psionic Mage with sensitivity to magic, a true successor to the ancient La-Fin dynasty.”

  “Yes, Medic Gerd Mauu-La has already told me the gender. But I didn’t suspect you also knew... Well, all the better. I have been wracking my brains over how to get the child out of the game and into the real world for the last few days. Thumor-Anhu said it was possible. But for the life of me, I don’t know how...”

  I reassured my wife that there was nothing especially complicated in the procedure. I had read through all the subtleties in the Miyelonians’ data reference system. Once the pregnancy entered late stage, we’d be able to see the “future player’s” base characteristics. He still wouldn’t have a name or class, we’d only see race, gender, level zero and a life bar. Thankfully, with my Scanning skill, I could already see more than others would see months down the line. Or perhaps I was helped by the fact my Scanning skill was somewhat distinct from the usual kind and used Magic Points.

  In one way or another, even incomplete information about the fetus was enough for the mother to be able to enlist the unborn child in their clan/faction/pride and thus request a free virt pod be made available for the new player. The optimal time for “entering information about a new player” was thought to be ten ummi before birth. That gave the “new player” time to get their own virt pod before being born. Meanwhile, a boy would be born in the real world as well and, when the mother came out into the real world, he would disappear from the game along with her and appear in his own virt pod in the real world. Easy peasy!

  Sure, there were certain risks that had to be considered as well. Like a child could become an NPC if assigned to a faction too early, thus becoming independent in the game before its time. A child would also become an NPC if the parents did not take care to provide a virt pod before birth. But that wasn’t the scariest possible outcome. A mother being pregnant in the game was accompanied by a pregnancy in the real world, but trying to give birth outside the game to a child conceived in it would kill the baby in all realities, often also leading to the death of the mother. There was more information about the late pregnancy (I didn’t see about people specifically, the article was only about Miyelonians, so it specified “late” as beginning at one hundred twelve days) saying that any death of the woman in the game could cause the fetus to be lost, and the farther along she was, the higher the risk. And that went all the way up to 100% guaranteed loss of fetus if the mother died and respawned in the game during the last few days of the pregnancy.

  “In other words,” Minn-O decided to clarify, “soon I won’t be able to die in the game that bends reality. And as soon as I feel the first contractions, I should send a request to the faction leader, i.e. you. You can add our son to the Relict faction and, after birth, he will appear not only in the game, but also in the real world. Which of the worlds will he appear in: yours or mine? After all, the Relict Faction could have free virt pods in either one.”

  Good question... I honestly admitted that I did not know the answer. But I immediately reassured my wife that, no matter what, our boy would be provided a suitable exit point, and my faction would come up with a way to provide for mother and child to be together.

  Minn-O spent some time in silence, thinking strenuously. I could sense my wife’s worry and could have read her thoughts, but I didn’t. Among mages that was considered bad form. Finally, my wayedda admitted what exactly had her so worried:

  “It’s been more than three days already, but Gerd Tamara still hasn’t shown up next to her virt pod. It’s very strange. And even more strange is that the rebels are broadcasting propaganda videos with Tamara in them from illegal stations hidden in hard-to-reach locations. And the Paladin girl is calling for open rebellion, seizing weaponry and slaughtering any and all mages. Your stupid girlfriend must have found some other way to enter the game.”

  It really was strange... I for one did not know any way to change virt pods from the real world. Although Gerd Tamara, to put it lightly was strange and attempting to understand what she had planned was doomed to failure. Even knowing about the seven- or eight-day limit one could spend outside the game, Tamara might have consciously chosen to sacrifice herself. Or she might have been afraid of an ambush and thus avoiding her virt pod.

  Meanwhile, based on Minn-O’s words, the anti-mage uprising in the First Directory had not been quelled, and attacks on the mages were only growing more frequent. The military advisors of the La-Fin dynasty even said they were no longer convinced of the loyalty of several First Directory military groups. Furthermore, the rebellion had spread geographically, and flare-ups of anti-mage violence had been recorded in the Fourth, Sixth and Ninth Directories as well. My wife even told me she was afraid her world might belong to Gerd Tamara’s fanatics before our son was born, and there would be no room for a magically talented child in it.

  I promised Minn-O not to let that happen. She immediately settled down and nuzzled up to my shoulder, smiling placidly. I on the other hand couldn’t fall asleep for a long time, thinking over the poorly timed uprising. Should I turn my ship around and go back to Earth? Stupid. Especially with the hidden Relict base where I was planning to pick up my combat drones and possibly luck my way into useful technologies and artifacts less than one day’s flight away.

  Offer to negotiate with the leaders of the uprising? No, there’s no point trying to reason with fanatics. They are deaf to rational argument. Still, most of the people fighting under such loudmouth leaders were in fact decent folk who could (and had to) be reasoned with. This simply was not the time for civil unrest, and I thought they could understand. We had a bigger task at hand – saving humanity. Yes the mage-rulers were cruel and at times treated their subjects brutally. But space invaders would be much less kind, and you didn’t have to look far to find examples. Tailax – enslaved, the Gilvar Syndicate – enslaved. Other planets had been wiped out by the Meleyephatian Horde. In some cases, whole races were pulled up by the root, often not leaving so much as a name behind. The people want the best future for their children? I want the same for my child. So in many ways our goals coincide. However, a good future would be absolutely impossible with our planet in the hands of occupying aliens.

  But why wasn’t Tamara entering the game? And what language was she conducting the propaganda in, or talking with her allies for that matter? As far as I knew, the former leader of the Second Legion didn’t know how to speak the language of the magocratic world. Maybe she wasn’t being translated properly in the propaganda clips, and they were perverting her words? Unfortunately, I didn’t have any answers to these questions yet.

  Chapter Thirty-Two. Jump into the Unknown

  “CAPTAIN, THERE’S NOTHING larger nearby!” Ayukh the Navigator looked at the data in the star reference guide and on our instruments again and again. “The largest asteroid is half the size of our frigate.”

  I could see that for myself. The asteroid belt of the H9045/WE star system had absolutely no large objects in it, and I was running into this rare occurrence for the first time. Usually, among millions of smaller ice and rock chunks, there were a few at least a third of a mile in length or even several miles. But here, the largest object was a gnarled and flame-kissed iron-nickel asteroid no more than one-hundred-fifteen feet along its very longest axis. Just in case, we flew up closer and gave it a scan, but it was the most average asteroid you could imagine, containing no hidden surprises whatsoever. Meanwhile, scanning the dust cloud revealed only objects around the size of fine grained sand particles.

  And nevertheless, there must have been something in the unusual H9045/WE system. I could still see the Small and Large Relict Guard Drones in my drone tab, and even order them to fly to me. Flight time for both drones was around three minut
es, so there was nothing stopping me from simply summoning the pair. However, I was in no rush. After all, the drones were not merely drifting through space – otherwise, we’d have picked them up on the frigate’s scanning systems. No, they were inside an invisible object of some kind that none of our scanners could detect. If I removed the drones from it, finding the camouflaged Relict base would turn into a total crapshoot!

  “Slight advance toward the red star. We’ll try a game of hot and cold.”

  The Shadow Panther lying at my feet suddenly began to purr and rub up against me. After the time she attacked an allied player in a sparring match and learned her painful lesson, Little Sister hadn’t left my side for a second and was constantly trying to atone for her guilt.

  “Hey now, out of my way!” I pushed her slobbery snout. “Go see Valeri.”

  Little Sister jerked her tail in offense and left the captain’s bridge, disappearing as she went. I then asked the drones their flight time again. Three minutes twenty seconds. The time had slightly increased.

  “Dmmmitry, turn the frigate around! We’re getting farther away. We need to go the opposite direction. Yes, great! Time is pressing.”

  We changed the ship’s vector several times, gradually coming closer. Two and a half minutes. One minute forty seconds. Now just one minute. But still we couldn’t see anything! The locator, lidar and even gravity scanner couldn’t detect any objects in our direct flight path.

  The Large Relict Drone was twenty seconds away. Okay, I think that’s enough! The last thing we need now is for Tamara the Paladin to slam into some invisible object at high speed. I ordered the pilots to disengage thrusters and stop the starship.

  “Small Relict Guard Drone, come to me!”

  There it is! From out of nowhere, just a few miles away from our ship, a metal sphere the size of a basketball suddenly materialized in the void of space and was immediately detected by the locators and other ship systems.

  “We’ve found it! The Relict base is just over a mile away!” I shouted into the microphone in a frenzy, wanting to share my elation with the team.

  “That’s just great, Captain Gnat! We’ll take it from here!” an unfamiliar whistling voice suddenly came over the intercom speaking Geckho with a very strong Meleyephatian accent. At the same time, several ships of Meleyephatian origin appeared just a few miles from my frigate.

  Two cloaked frigates, a light cruiser, an assault cruiser and a long-distance scout ship. Almost at once, all five of the ships turned into red markers on the tactical map. Enemies!!!

  Danger Sense skill increased to level eighty-eight!

  “Dmitry, full speed ahead!” I shouted before I even read the next message. “Combat alert!!! Ayukh, get us out of battle! We need coordinates to enter a hyperjump quick!”

  The frigate’s siren started wailing, my crew ran to their posts. I was pressed back into my seat with triple force, but this time I was delighted by the G forces, in fact wishing the ship could go even faster. We started getting farther from the enemies. I even had a flicker of hope that we’d manage to escape. After all, Tamara the Paladin had pretty sporty acceleration.

  “We’re being targeted! We’re under attack!” Copilot San-Doon shouted in alarm.

  And our forcefield really did take a slight dip. The two cloaked frigates first started firing from their laser cannons, then the other ships as well. It wasn’t critical yet – Tamara the Paladin had a strong shield, but still it wasn’t nice. Much worse was that we got “caught” by their combat electronics! That robbed us of our biggest advantage: speed!

  “Captain, we have been hit with a hyperdrive disruptor and two stasis nets! Three nets now! We’re losing speed fast!” Dmitry Zheltov commented in a surprisingly calm voice as if telling me about the weather forecast back home.

  Our main thruster started wailing in strain, working at the edge of its capability. But nevertheless our starship was slowing down. Our speed couldn’t save us now. And our hyperspace drive was blocked. We couldn’t beat them in a fight either – their firepower was significantly higher than ours.

  “You’ll have to give me my ship back!” only after that did I finally recognize the nasty voice. I don’t know how Leng Sooweesssh Eleven managed to get off the Miyelonian station or how he found me, but it was the leader of the Nest of the Horde Frontrunners. I had no doubts.

  “Keep dreaming! I’d rather blow this frigate to smithereens than let you take it back from me!”

  I placed a marker on the probable location of the hidden Relict base. I didn’t have any idea what exactly was there, but it was our only chance.

  “Pilots, accelerate in that direction! We’ll try to hide behind the space distortion shield! Gunners, fire at the nearest frigate with all cannons! I’ve placed a targeting marker on it!”

  Electronics skill increased to level ninety-three!

  Targeting skill increased to level fifty-one!

  What, don’t like that?! The enemy frigate took a few hits and started dodging maneuvers, simultaneously accelerating to leave the battlefield. Cloakers generally had weak shields because their camouflage systems used too much energy. So a cloaked frigate couldn’t stand up against concentrated fire from nine laser cannons for long.

  “Going somewhere? Nuts to you! You won’t make it!” I shouted. And literally at the last second, we managed to place a disruptor and stasis net on the ship, not letting the cloaked frigate escape. Half a mile from us, space was lit up by a bright explosion. One opponent down!

  Targeting skill increased to level fifty-two!

  Machine Control skill increased to level one hundred five!

  You have reached level one hundred!

  You have received three skill points!

  Congratulations! You have unlocked three additional skill slots!!!

  Any other time, I’d be celebrating the landmark level and the ability to choose three new skills for Gnat, but I could not think about that now. Our ship was sure to perish. Even though it was a twinbody, and the shield was enhanced and firepower improved, Tamara the Paladin was still a frigate and couldn’t stand up against two cruisers in a firefight in open space.

  “You wanna know how I found you?” the Meleyephatian Spy asked, getting on my nerves. “Because you have MY ship! It’s unique, it’s my pride and joy! It still holds many secrets you never uncovered. I heard every word spoken on the frigate and was tracking your every move, human. I know about the ancient Relict base in the H9045/WE system and we even got here first. Do you really think an experienced Spy couldn’t get off of the Kasti-Utsh III trade station? It was no problem for me! I even got here before you. We checked the whole system and couldn’t find anything. But you found it for us!”

  He was lying about the ship! I scanned the whole thing, every berth, every utility area, but I never found any bugs or any other espionage equipment. Although... maybe he wasn’t lying? How else could he know so many of my secrets?

  Tamara the Paladin’s defensive shield was falling before my very eyes, especially when the enemy assault cruiser’s cannons hit. The Mirosssh-Pakh II was the main combat ship of the Meleyephatian Horde. It combined massive firepower and a sturdy defensive shield, the workhorse of most interstellar conflicts in modern times. By the way, the starships were assembled for the Meleyephatian Horde on subjugated Tailax.

  All my attempts to take out the targeting system on that highly dangerous enemy ship with combat electronics ended in failure. The assault cruiser was still firing, and every volley it landed sharply reduced our frigate’s shield.

  Thirty percent. Eighteen. Seventeen. Two percent...

  I tried to launch both of our torpedoes at the enemy Mirosssh-Pakh II cruiser, and it looked like a gesture of despair – both of the missiles were destroyed by the cruiser’s high-speed cannons before they even got close. We were done for. No more shield. We would not survive another shot.

  I summoned the Large Relict Guard Drone into the firefight to help the two Small ones, and they got
the second cloaked frigate out of the fight. But it didn’t wait around to meet the same tragic fate as its counterpart, just hyperjumped away. With one less stasis net on Tamara the Paladin, our frigate started to accelerate again. Were we really going to make it?

  But then... At first I didn’t notice, but my Large Guard Drone was dashed to pieces by a direct shot from something very powerful and deadly. Then it hit our frigate as well. The rough blow just about made me fall out of my seat, and I painfully hit my left hand on a work panel. My eyes went dark from the sharp pain. I think I broke my wrist. The lights flickered on the starship and the characteristic siren rang out to say we’d lost pressure. Damn! They did hit us after all!

  “Captain, the tail section of the frigate has been hit! We lost our hyperdrive!” there wasn’t even a trace of Dmitry Zheltov’s former calm left. The Starship Pilot was shouting in panic at this point.

  And I understood his despair perfectly well. With no hyperspace drive, we could not leave this star system. Flying to a neighboring system in normal space would take years. Hundreds and thousands of years, in fact. With no hyperdrive, this was no longer even a starship in the literal sense of the word, just a ship for leisurely flights inside a system. And the captain’s tablet showed me that our troubles were not limited to a lost hyperdrive. The cargo hold had been completely destroyed, the right corridor took damage and the two outermost residential berths as well. Our right stabilizer was missing a big chunk, and so was one of the laser cannons.

  “Uline, report on losses in the crew!” I demanded, but my first mate’s answer was not forthcoming.

  The terrified voice of Medic Gerd Mauu-La did ring out in my headphones though: