Earth's Gambit (The Gam3 Book 2)

by Cosimo Yap

  Finally, the wait ended and a countdown began. The room was now three-quarters full, with seventy players registered for the tournament. There was a flash of light, and the battle started…

  ***

  Alan stood still, in the same spot where he had been initially teleported, advanced invisibility activated. He felt a bit bad, but the rules had been clear: the last man standing won. So, he watched as the rest of the warriors eliminated each other, alliances breaking down as the number of remaining players dwindled.

  The Coliseum floor, which had been a dense jungle in the player vs. environment fights, was now a simple dirt pit, with line of sight throughout the entirety of the battlefield. There was no cover, which made spotting enemies and shooting at them very easy, assuming your opponent had no stealth abilities. Fortunately for Alan, his armor had such an ability; unfortunately for everyone else, no one seemed to have detected his presence.

  Eve suspected that most of the players had ways to detect an enemy through basic invisibility, so to be safe Alan used the armor’s advanced setting. The armor masked Alan’s sound and smell, in addition to other signals. Many of the warriors were far more durable than Alan had anticipated, capable of taking multiple headshots or even stab wounds before falling.

  It had been twenty minutes since the fight started, lowering the amount of energy Alan’s armor held from 2,000 to 1,725. He’d had to stop using the advanced stealth mode five minutes in, because he still didn’t meet the basic requirements of the armor. Like Eve had expected, no one noticed him—even when a brawl happened right beside him, laser swords clashing a few feet away.

  Finally, there were only two other combatants left standing. The medic had used a strategy similar to Alan’s, simply running away and healing himself, but was now having trouble dealing damage to the other warrior, a bald martial artist that looked like a punk with studded earrings and fought with a pair of metal knuckles that glowed blue. He’d moved fluidly through the chaotic battle, avoiding any direct blows, taking out enemies with one or two punches, even if they were heavily armored.

  The medic was currently getting the shit kicked out of him, but each time the punk-monk dealt a crippling blow there would be a brief flash of light and the medic would stand up, good as new. The medic wielded a single laser pistol in one hand and a healing tool in the other. Eventually, it seemed like the medic ran out of psionic energy, and he took a blow and fell to the ground without standing up.

  The crowd roared with excitement, and the punk-monk smiled as he slowly walked over to the medic’s fallen form. He kneeled over him and with another punch caved in the medic’s chest, eliminating him.

  The monk stood up, staring at the crowd that cheered him on. He smiled and waved; a minute passed. He looked over to a shielded part of seats and shouted, “What, haven’t I won?”

  Alan took the opportunity to deactivate his invisibility, unloading his twin laser pistols into the monk’s skull from point blank. The monk fell to the floor, disappearing in a swirl of light. Silence fell over the crowd; a second later, booing began. Alan heard it grow in volume before he was teleported away, but he didn’t care: he’d won.

  Alan found himself in the shielded VIP area. Sitting before him in an ornate, throne-like chair was a Predecessor. It wore a suit of dark red metal, holding a spear of soulsteel in one hand. Eve could not identify the type of metal its armor was made of, or its properties.

  “You won. Without honor,” the Predecessor said, looking down at Alan, taller even when seated.

  Alan calmly stared back, removing his helmet so he could look into the Predecessor’s eyes. “I won. I’m Alan, by the way.”

  “And, as you know, I am the Tyrant. Do you know the origin of this title?” the Tyrant asked.

  A message popped up:

  Scoping out the Competition:

  8/10 Major players met

  Bonus: 1/10 Objectives found

  “No, I don’t,” Alan said.

  “Because I have bled entire planets dry, using the blood of my enemies to strengthen myself. And not once have I resorted to deceit; each time I have gone to battle I have announced my intentions, and the universe has wept crimson tears.”

  “You’re a Predecessor, but I am only human. To defeat one so mighty as yourself I’d have to use other tactics,” Alan replied.

  The Tyrant smiled. “And so you must. Here is your Warrior Commendation. You will also participate in the monthly Champion’s Tournament. I personally require your presence.”

  Alan was handed a small emblem with a spear on it, a Warrior Commendation. Messages popped up:

  The Grand Melee complete!

  x2 Level up!

  New quest: The Champion’s Tournament

  By winning a tournament you have qualified for the monthly Champion’s Tournament. The format is single elimination, randomized deathmatch arena, with teams of up to three players.

  Time remaining: 9:22:30:03. If you do not register with a team you may choose to be randomly placed on one.

  Teams registered: 22

  Rewards (for each member of the team):

  1st: 5 Warrior Commendations. Rank A item choice from Academy Armory or 5 platinum marks.

  2nd: 3 Warrior Commendations. Rank B item choice from Academy Armory or 3 platinum marks.

  3rd: 2 Warrior Commendations and 2 platinum marks.

  4th: 1 Warrior Commendation and 1 platinum mark.

  Alan swallowed, the Tyrant’s presence bearing down on him.

  “I’ll be there,” Alan said. The tournament would take place in about ten days, so he should be done with whatever training Cerberus had in mind by then.

  “Good. For your dishonor, I give the following penalty: the warriors you wronged are free to attack you within my walls for the next hour.”

  There was a flash of light, and Alan found himself back in the waiting room. Surrounding him were the warriors who had just fought. Shouts rang out.

  “There he is!”

  “Get that Rogue sonofabitch!”

  “That’s the dirty cheat, let’s teach him a lesson.”

  Alan activated his armor’s invisibility as he was mobbed, quickly forcing his helmet back on. Angry warriors converged on his location as he turned invisible. Laser fire and other lethal attacks were launched. Alan managed to avoid most of them, and though a few hit, his shields held.

  Shoving his way through the waiting room, Alan ran outside. Warriors burst out behind him, throwing out sensors and pointing in various directions. Trying to get away from the angry mob, Alan sprinted for the Administrative Center, where he’d be able to teleport to another area of the Academy. He’d made far too large a scene here—whoever was hunting him would certainly be on his trail now.

  Once he’d made his way into the Administrative Center, Alan sent to the nearest Administrator, Teleport me to Null Point Station.

  Very well. As Cerberus’s student, you are allowed three free teleportations within the Academy per day. You have two left today, the Administrator replied.

  Alan nodded, climbing into a capsule, returning Home, and selecting Null Point Station as his teleport destination.

  ***

  Alan emerged from the capsule on Null Point Station, the Pilot training grounds. Cerberus’s note simply read: Ex-Empire Admiral, Null Point Station.

  “Halt. State your business.”

  Looking up, Alan saw the barrel of a rifle pointed at him. A single guard wearing a lightweight set of power armor was standing before him, some sort of jetpack attached to the guard’s back.

  To allow maneuverability in a vacuum, Eve sent.

  Why would he need to be able to move around in a vacuum? Alan asked.

  Look to your right.

  Alan did so. To his right was a clear window, staring out into space. Alan took a second to take the endless void in. All that stood between him and space was an inch or two of composite glass.

  Can the Revenant Scout Armor maneuver in a vacuum? Alan asked.
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  With the right extensions. Currently, it cannot, and holds a maximum of thirty minutes of air, Eve replied.

  “I said state your business, or I’ll space you,” the station guard said; his hand motioned toward a small red button next to him.

  “Oh, I’m here to see someone,” Alan said.

  “Who?”

  “Um, an ex-Admiral.”

  “Cobalt-1-7?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Are you here to see Cobalt-1-7? He’s the only ex-Admiral I can think of on-station. If you don’t know his name he’s clearly not expecting you. Who are you, who sent you?”

  “I’m Alan, Cerberus sent me.”

  “All right. Indigo-3-4 reporting in, I have an Alan here to see Cobalt-1-7, sent by a Cerberus.”

  Alan waited as the guard listened for further instructions. A minute passed before he got a response, enough time for Eve to manage a connection to the station’s network.

  “Acknowledged,” the guard said. “Indigo-3-4 leaving arrival gate 4 and proceeding to Flight Training Room with Alan.” He motioned Alan to follow.

  Alan walked behind the guard through the station; it seemed very neat, orderly. Everyone they passed by walked with purpose, and wore similar-looking power armor. They arrived at their destination, two guards standing at the entrance.

  “You are relieved, Indigo-3-4, return to your station,” one guard said.

  “Acknowledged,” Indigo-3-4 responded, turning around and heading back.

  “Alan, you may enter,” the guard continued.

  “Uhh, okay,” Alan said as the door to the Flight Training Room opened, revealing three rows of capsules. Each capsule had a terminal attached and was suspended in mid-air, outside of the station, floating in space. An odd, blue field kept the atmosphere in the room.

  A man with a small, blue medal attached to his chest looked up at Alan. “Alan? I am Cobalt-1-7, you’ve gotten here just in time.”

  A message popped up:

  Scoping out the Competition:

  9/10 Major players met

  Bonus: 1/10 Objectives found

  “Excuse me?” Alan asked.

  “I was just about to send for someone from Ænigma to sort this out: a number of our flight simulators seem to be experiencing increasing delay. So far, we’ve passed off the increase in latency as special training, but the recruits seem to know that’s bullshit. Can you check the systems and see what the problem is? It’s probably a harmless program left running by some past recruit—they seem to think pranks like these are funny.”

  A new quest appeared:

  A Minor Glitch:

  Fix whatever the problem is with the flight simulators.

  Reward: A Pilot Commendation and Basic Pilot Training

  Failure or Refusing this quest will result in a ban from Null Point Station.

  “Of course, sir,” Alan said, “I’ll try my best. I make no guarantees, though.”

  “Covering your ass like a true officer,” Cobalt-1-7 said. “The affected terminals are 2, 71, and 82. You have one week. After that, I’ll have to hire a professional.” He clapped Alan on the shoulder, then left the room.

  Alan walked over to Terminal 2, which was currently unoccupied. He opened his mind, trying to form a mental connection with the terminal, activating his mental hack ability.

  In his head, a tunnel opened between his base and the terminal.

  SHIT. CUT THE CONNECTION NOW, Eve screamed into Alan’s head as the tunnel finished. Hundreds of small, furry creatures began streaming through the tunnel before Alan could close it. Eve dove downwards.

  As soon as he cut off the connection, Alan paused to get a better look at what fearsome pest had invaded his base. They were bunnies, and Eve was slaughtering them indiscriminately, her face an alarmed mask of fear as she cut through the small furballs while they ran away from her to the corners of Alan’s mind-base-thing.

  He started laughing.

  THIS IS NOT A LAUGHING MATTER, Eve sent.

  What are they going to do? Eat all our carrots? Alan asked.

  No, but they will multiply and completely lag-out our systems! They are a VIRUS, Eve sent.

  Alarmed, Alan examined his base. Sure enough, the ranks of bunnies were not decreasing, even though Eve was slicing through at least one a second. If anything, their numbers were somehow increasing. He tried taking a closer look, and saw that the bunnies were…copulating. In his mind. Shortly after, the bunnies would lay a dozen eggs. New bunnies would pop out a second later.

  What the fuck? he sent Eve.

  It’s your mind interpreting the virus, don’t ask me. We need some sort of defense program or digital cure, and fast. At the rate they’re multiplying I anticipate I’ll only be able to process information at half the normal speed—I already feel a definite delay, Eve sent.

  I don’t notice anything, Alan replied.

  Try activating hypercognition.

  Alan did so, and sure enough, time didn’t seem to slow down nearly as much as it should have. There was also a small, thumping sound in his ear that he couldn’t get rid of. This was a problem, something he needed to fix, both to complete the quest and clear his mind of this bunny infestation.

  So, back to Ænigma? Alan asked.

  No, let’s check the Institute first, Eve sent. Cerberus said there’s a major player there, so we might as well finish that class quest before returning to him; he’ll probably have some solution if we don’t find one at the Institute.

  It was hardly noticeable, but Alan thought that she was speaking slightly slower than normal. There may have also been a hint of anger.

  Chapter 6

  As Alan was leaving the Flight Training Room, he ran into a familiar face emerging from one of the capsules. It was Amelia, the pilot from Earth. She had changed from her Earth flight suit into a light blue jumpsuit.

  “Hi,” Alan said. “Are you here testing the simulations?”

  Amelia gave Alan a confused look. “Well, yeah. Not like I’ll be able to fly the real thing anytime soon. Most factions require you to log a year of flight hours before you’re allowed to touch a ship, even in the Game.”

  “Oh, who pilots the United World Government’s ships, then?” Alan asked.

  Amelia shrugged. “That’s classified. But remember, the UWG was only able to afford one spaceship capable of putting up a fight. And it looks like they might even lose that one…”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Haven’t you been keeping up with the news at all?”

  “News? What news?”

  “War has broken out! The Legion of Man has allied themselves with seventeen non-NATO countries, helping them seize their control points back from the UWG. This happened a few hours ago and has been on the front page of every Earth news source. Where have you been?”

  A message appeared:

  The War for Earth Updated:

  The war for Earth is no longer secret. Lines have been drawn, and crossed. You may now freely recruit other humans from Earth. You may choose a side to support, or remain undecided.

  Note: Any player involved in the war that kills you can choose to remove you from the war. You may not remove players from the war until you have chosen a side. Any War Contribution Points received are tied to the side you are on.

  “Um, I’ve been training,” Alan said, rapidly going through the news that he had Eve bring up. “I need to go figure this out.”

  “All right,” Amelia said, giving Alan another odd look.

  Shit, Eve, why didn’t you update me about this? Alan sent.

  It does not change our current circumstances, as we are not yet officially allied to the United World Government or Legion of Man. Also, I believe that Amelia may suspect we are not allied to the United World Government now. Be wary of her in the future, Eve sent.

  Oh, right, she was sent here by them, wasn’t she? Alan sent. Wait, why didn’t you update me about that?

  I assumed you remembered. I cannot dictate
every social communication for you, especially now that I am actively combating the bunny virus rampaging through our system.

  Let’s hope this Institute has some sort of solution, then.

  Alan was escorted by a guard back to the capsule room. As he walked, he sent a series of messages to his guildmates, trying to figure out what they knew and their opinion on the matter. The news articles he found on the globalnet simply stated that war had broken out, and added no detail to the current situation on the ground. There were a few sites that claimed to have additional information, but they were located behind pay walls of thousands of credits.

  Alan: Hey, what are people’s thoughts on the war that’s happening on Earth? Does the Black Rose guild have a stance on it, or any additional information?

  Aurora: The Black Rose guild remains neutral in all wars until they are hired. Information on wars is granted on a case-by-case basis. As a member of the guild you are not to choose a side. Didn’t you read the guild manual?

  Sidestep: Yeah, it’s only like 3,000 pages. Haven’t you memorized it by now, Mr. Robot?

  Alan: Right. Also, is anyone involved in the Champion’s Tournament? I’m currently looking for a team.

  Kitana: I’ve formed a team with Ace and Daisy. They are aware of our inability to choose a side in the war, but I believe they still wish to talk to you, Alan.

  Alan: K.

  Sidestep: I suppose he could join our team, Aurora, what do you think?

  Aurora: Yes, that should work. I was going to have to choose between S and Luna; this way I won’t cause offense to either.

  Recalling that S was his assassination target, Alan hurriedly replied.