by Adam Drake
I glanced at the planet's data, again. Seven thousand kilometers in diameter and still expanding. “What's the quickest we can get that time down to?” Like, now would be a good time.
Otto answered for the engineer. “Captain, the standard wait time is a minimum designate not only for the engines to cool, but for the safety of the crew. Humans need time to adjust before making another jump.”
I knew all this. Hell, it was covered in basic training and hammered into our brains. You didn't risk your crew in order to save time. The effects on people made saving time impossible. Five and a half days was the golden number.
But I didn't think we'd have five and a half minutes, let alone days. To Pullman, I said, “We need to move upwell as fast as possible until the drives are ready. Can you switch some more energy over to the pulse engine?”
“Well, ya, I can, but why-.”
“Just do it!” I said, and cut the comms.
Caddie stood, alarmed. “Captain, what's going on? Do you think it's going to explode?”
“I don't know, but we can't risk it. We need to move away, and quickly.” Even at this far a distance from the planet, if the thing did go boom, it would scatter trillions of tons of debris upwell. I had no intention of getting hit by any of it.
“Caddie, spin us around one hundred and eighty degrees, then slap on the pulse engine.”
The other woman blinked, but didn't move, as if frozen in fear.
“Caddie, now please.” I made an effort to ratchet down the anxiety in my voice.
“Yes,” she said, after a moment. “Yes, Captain.” She sat in her seat and frantically tapped at her display.
Otto suddenly said, “We've just lost satellites one, two, three and four. They were the low orbiters.”
The planet expanded so quickly the satellites couldn't compensate and had smashed into its bleak surface. This was all too bizarre to even fathom.
“Pulse engine on,” Caddie said, her voice relatively calm, although her expression showed otherwise. “We should be at maximum speed in twenty minutes.”
I frowned, watching the image of the planet. Was it about to blow up? Or was there something else going on? Another worrying thought worked through the frenzied activity in my brain.
The planet had started to expand right after the satellites at settle into their orbits. Did that mean it was reacting to their presence? How was that possible?
Unless...
A chill ran up my spine, and for the first time ever in my career as an interstellar surveyor, I wanted to be back at the depressing station around Pluto and far from this place.
“I think there's more going on here,” I said, staring at the planet, fear cloying at my chest.
“More than an exploding planet?” Caddie said.
Suddenly, the ship's deck shifted beneath me and I flew across the bridge. I smashed into the far wall, barely managing to get my arms up. Falling to the floor, I heard the high-pitched braying of the alarms.
Dazed, I managed to sit up. “Sitrep!” I could see Caddie crumpled in a ball at the corner of the bridge.
Otto said, “It appears the pulse engine has been taken offline. Our forward momentum has ceased which is impossible without reverse thrust.”
As I tried to understand what that meant, he said, “Captain, the ship is reversing direction.”
“How...” I started to ask, but knew the answer. The planet.
With double vision, I looked at the display. The planet had stopped expanding, and was now over ten times its initial size. So it wasn't going to explode. It was doing something else.
Preparing.
“It's pulling us to it,” I said.
After a brief moment, Otto said, “You are correct Captain. Fascinating. The power to capture an object from such a distance is absolutely staggering.”
“Oh, I'm staggered,” I said, managing to flop back into my chair. “Can we do anything with the maneuvering jets?” I had a faint hope we could at least spin out of its reach.
“Negative,” Otto said. “All engines and drives are offline. Most systems are down. I'm trying to get them back up again.”
“At this speed it will take almost a full day to drag us in, if that's its intent,” I said.
“Agreed. I don't think the hull's integrity will hold for more than-.”
Suddenly, the proximity alarms squealed to life, deafening me. The ship shook more violently than before and I found myself on the deck, again.
A whiteness filled the display wall.
The planet. It was on top of us.
“Impossible...” I heard Otto say, but the alarms and sounds of the ship's hull cracking drowned him out.
The whiteness flared in intensity, engulfing everything. In seconds, the bridge vanished. I tried to close my eyes but the whiteness was there too.
“The planet has us...” Otto's voice was barely audible.
“That's no planet,” I rasped.
Then two words appeared, their black letters contrasting against the all encompassing white.
Joining Server.
CHAPTER TWO
One of the first things they taught you at the academy was that space was not empty. This tenement was always driven home to students regardless of which class we took. No matter of how monumentally vast and infinite the universe was, there was always something to find. As a surveyor, it was our job to find those 'somethings', wherever they were, and record and classify them.
For decades I believed in this unwritten law. Whichever system I was sent to, whatever far flung location I arrived at, it was never truly empty.
But I found emptiness now.
The whiteness was everything; space, the universe, my soul. It washed out all thoughts and emotions. And it was all I could do but stare into it.
Long after those two words had faded away, I was left floating in nothingness. When I tried to speak, I couldn't make words, I couldn't even make sounds. It was as if my body ceased to exist. Faded away like those words, becoming one with the great white emptiness.
The sounds of the ship cracking apart had long gone; replaced by an eerie silence, one which was somehow more deafening than the death rattle of the Corena.
Otto? I wanted to say, but could only think the name. Over and over, I mentally called out to the ship's AI, hoping for some kind of response. But none came. Occasionally, I would think the names of the crew, but the results were the same. Were they okay? Could they be in this place like me? Was this even a place at all?
My fear for my crew and ship slowly turned into a dull ache, one which couldn't be allayed. Helpless, I waited. There was nothing else I could do.
Then, without warning, the empty universe started to change. The whiteness slowly grew darker, shapes and images began to appear all around.
Confusion mixed with relief. I wasn't dead. The ship hadn't been destroyed. But what was I seeing?
Soon, blurry images began to take shape, revealing detail. But what I saw only confused me more. It was a rocky plain stretching off into the distance. Dark, angry clouds scudded overhead. Two bright orange lights became torches, stuck into the ground.
This wasn't the bridge, or any place I'd seen before. What was happening?
Otto? I tried to shout, but still couldn't verbalize. In fact, my vision was locked in place, forced to stare at the torches flickering in a wind I couldn't feel.
Panic gripped me. I couldn't understand what was going on and my lack of ability to do anything made me want to scream with frustration.
Suddenly, words appeared near the top of my vision, above the torches.
Choose your character:
Huh?
With a shock, a person appeared before me like an image on a screen.
I wanted to gasp, but couldn't.
It was me. Or at least, it was a facsimile of me. The image stood between the torches, her eyes scanning around as if looking for danger. She wore clothing made of what appeared to be thick hides. Her hair was pulled b
ack in a tight braided ponytail and a leather satchel was slung over a shoulder. Gripped in one hand, at the ready, was a strange looking knife made of a dull-white material. I realized it was bone.
Another word appeared below this image of me: Tracker.
What, by the stars, was going on?
More words appeared.
Tracker
This class grants a character the ability to traverse the many dangerous realms of carnage with ease. Skilled in hunting and skinning, a tracker can find prey in the most difficult of terrain. At later levels, trackers can learn to capture and train various beasts and creatures (non-humanoid).
+2 Reflex Attribute
+5 Power
+10% Skinning skill
+5% Tracking skill
Accept this character – Yes / No?
If I could blink in confusion, I would have. What was this? For a few moments I could only stare in bewilderment at the feral version of myself. Had I accidentally entered one of the sims in the ship's database?
Then I recalled the words from before: Joining Server.
What if I could get out of this somehow? I tried to say no, but still couldn't speak. Then I noticed the word Yes was highlighted. I focused on the word No, hoping that would pull me out.
The No highlighted and flashed once. Then the image of me quickly slid out of view and vanished. It was replaced by another version of me, this one different than before.
This one was covered from head to toe in clothing made from a patchwork of material. Skin, I realized with horror. Human skin. A necklace of severed ears hung from her neck. Her head was shaved bald, and a strange tattooed symbol covered her scalp. Her eyes weren't as wild and feral as the tracker, but were no less menacing.
Several packs were strapped to her back at odd angles, each made of hide. Across her waist was a cord-like belt which hung with several little pouches, each with a symbol stitched onto them.
She gripped an object in a clenched fist, and long wicked teeth stuck out between her fingers. A piece of an animal's jawbone.
This one had an oddly fitting name to go with its appearance.
Gore Fiend
This class grants the character the ability to salvage better materials for crafting. In tune with an enemy's weaknesses, a gore fiend can increase the chances of making a quicker kill. One of the few classes to be allowed to practice Death magic at later levels.
+2 Mind Attribute
+10% roll bonus when claiming an Enhanced Item.
+5% Critical Hit Chance
Immune to Blood Madness (A Death magic penalty)
Accept this character – Yes / No?
My frustration grew. I hadn't been dropped from this bizarre selection screen, and appeared to be stuck. What was this nonsense? Where was Otto?
Trying to keep my growing anger in check I selected no. Then no again, and again. Rapidly, various classes zipped past, each a snapshot of me in some macabre state of dress; Demon Dancer, Plains Warrior, Shadow Rogue, Cloud Mage, Dream Champion, Festered, The Unknown, Sorcerer, Giant Whisperer, Feral One, Glacial Knight, Bone Templar. And still it went on. Dozens and dozens of them.
Finally, I got the hint. No wasn't the answer to escaping my purgatory of this bizarre menu. I stopped selecting no and the screen halted on a class. Not caring what it was, I selected Yes.
To my relief, the screen changed, but not before catching a glimpse of the class name I'd selected.
Berserker.
The torches vanished and my view angled upwards to face the roiling black clouds. From deep within their depths flashed yellow and purple lights, indicating something sinister beyond.
Another selection screen appeared, and I moaned inwardly with annoyance.
Choose a God:
This time, instead of an image of me in a grizzly outfit, a reddish symbol filled my view. It was hard to discern and I didn't care to interpret its meaning – a red lake channeling over a cliff, forming a waterfall of red?
This was followed by more words.
Blood God
Slain in the Third Great War, the Blood God seeks a return to the mortal plain and revenge on those gods who betrayed him. With you by his side the Blood God would destroy his enemies and subjugate all who-.”
Don't care! I wanted to shout. I ignored the rest of story telling gibberish and scanned downward. Pages of nonsense scrolled up until it stopped at what I was looking for. A selection.
Bind yourself to this God – Yes / No?
Yes.
Are you certain of this choice? Binding yourself to a God defines your main quest path, as well as effecting unlockable talents-.
I ignored the rest and went straight to the confirmation. Yes. This is my damned selection. Get me out of this mess!
You are bound to the Blood God. There is no hope for your soul.
If I could have laughed, I would have. Whoever came up with this garbage should be demoted or fired, or whatever happened to washed up sim creators.
All messages vanished and only the angry clouds remained. After several seconds I feared I'd be stuck like this, but soon the clouds parted. Beyond them was the strange yellow and purple lights.
When the clouds rolled out of view I realized I was moving. Without warning, my hands appeared before me. What little elation I felt was negated when an overwhelming sense of suffocation pressed down upon my chest.
My hands flailed and hit something solid. The strange yellow and purple light had moved. They weren't lights, but some kind of barrier.
I gagged and something red sloshed across my vision. Realizing I finally had a body again, I looked around.
A sticky red liquid splashed around my head, and I sensed I was laying down in a pool of the stuff. Confused, I tried to sit up, but my forehead butted against the barrier which stretched.
Where was I?
Confused, I noticed the red liquid was rising. I pressed my face up against the barrier, keeping my mouth above, but I accidentally took a big swallow.
Coppery. Salty.
Blood.
Gagging, I screamed in horror, the sudden sound of my voice after the long silence was almost deafening within the constrictive confines of my prison.
Panicked, I slashed upwards and was surprised when my hand punched through the barrier. Desperate, I used both hands to rip and tear at the hole I'd created. In seconds, I managed to make it big enough to sit up.
Blood in my eyes blurred my vision, but I sensed a ledge next to me. I flung my body to the side and was relieved when my torso smacked down on a hard surface.
Still screaming and shrieking, I clamored through the barrier and out of the bloody pool. Safe for the moment, I curled over on my knees and retched my guts out. Copious amounts of thick red blood splattered the ground.
When there was no more to vomit, I slumped to my side, clutching my stomach with both arms. By the stars, what had just happened?
After several moments of gasping, I rubbed the sticky blood from my eyes.
Beside me was a long, narrow trough in the ground, like a grave. Thick blood filled it to its edge. Stretched taught across its surface was the barrier which I'd torn down the middle.
A membrane.
I'd been in that? My mind reeled, aghast.
I glanced around. I was laying on hard ground, surrounded by piles of boulders and rocks. Above was open sky. Dark clouds swirled past, the same clouds I'd seen at the selection screen.
From behind, a voice spoke, startling me.
“It would appear the Blood God has summoned to me a new candidate.”
CHAPTER THREE
I turned around and looked up.
A man stood over me. Even from this angle I could see he was short. His head was bald and glinted with a sheen of sweat. He wore a blood-red leather vest which exposed his flabby arms and did little to conceal a wide protruding gut. A swath of dark leather wrapped around his waist and hung down to his scarred knees.
In one plump hand he held a staff. No,
not a staff; a spinal column topped with an engraved human skull.
Stunned, I could only stare at this grotesque apparition for several moments.
The man's frog-like countenance scowled down at me. “Are you mute, bitch? Say something!”
I blinked at him, still trying to recover from what just happened. First I was on my ship, then we suffered some kind of attack, then I was assailed by images, followed by nearly drowning in a pit of blood. Safe to assume I wasn't at my best in that very moment, but I did manage to speak. “Where am I? What's happening?”
Unimpressed, the man's scowl deepened forming fat ripples up his forehead. “At least you're not another still-born. What is your name, woman?”
Words appeared before me, and the world seemed to slow down to a crawl.
Character's name?
I grunted with annoyance. “I don't have time for this. Get me out of here!”
Nothing happened. The message remained.
Frustrated, I said, “I wish to log out now. Please!” I figured I'd accidentally got thrown into a sim. Is that what happened? The ship was damaged and I'd somehow interfaced with a sim while trying to access systems?
Again, nothing changed. When I tried to move, I found my body was immobile, frozen in place.
Fine. If I needed to go through the motions, I would. “Okay. My name is Zyra. Got that?”
Character's name Zyra.
The message vanished and the world resumed again.
The man's scowl lessened, but only a little. “Zyra. A good name. A strong name. One that will strike fear in our enemies!” A wide reptilian smile broke across his face, revealing angular, yellow teeth.
Happy to get that out of the way, I stood only to realize I was completely naked, save for a narrow loincloth fitted tightly around my waist. I fought back the impulse to try and cover myself, but I was too annoyed to care. Besides, this was just a sim. “I want to log off. How do I do that?”
The scowl returned. “You speak too much, woman. There is no time for your prattle. The Blood God has tasks for you to perform. You must prove yourself worthy to him!”
