I took out my last analyzer and gave a heavy sigh. Alright, this was my last shot. Make or break! I have to admit, I was very nervous. I was trying not to show it, though. Anyhow, it would feel bad to remain in the Geckhos’ memory as a loser human, remembered only for screwing up.
I opened my skill window and placed all eight of my skill points into Scanning, raising it to 34. No reason to sit on my points if I needed results right here and now! I closed my eyes for a few seconds, and even mentally prayed to the admins of this strange game for luck. At the very last moment, I changed the settings, choosing not to search only for metals. Instead, I placed all the sliders approximately in the middle. I didn’t react to my partner’s surprised exclamation and, with an abrupt exhale, I took out the last tripod and activated it.
Hundreds of results appeared on the screen. Iron, nickel, other chemical elements. But something else caught my eye.
“What is that?!” the bright yellow spot on the three-dimensional diagram had also caught Uline’s attention.
“Some kind of anomaly,” I answered vaguely, familiarizing myself with its preliminary description.
My heart stopped stock still. I zoomed in on the curious map section. It showed open spaces deep under the asteroid’s surface with corridors, hotbeds of intensive electromagnetic field, and sources of strong radioactivity. I increased the scale even further. On the monitor, there was a subsurface complex: hemispheric rooms and a network of corridors connecting them. What was more, the entrance was not very far away. In fact, it was just six hundred feet from us, at the other end of the crevasse.
“This is no mere anomaly, Gnat!” Uline exclaimed, not even trying to hold back the panic bursting out of her. “This is a Relict outpost, a remnant of a long-extinct ancient race! A depository of unique technologies and equipment! I remember the news when some Miyelonians discovered a subsurface complex like this on the outskirts of the galaxy. I was just a girl, it was five tongs ago. I’ll contact the captain at once and tell him what we’ve found! Finally, fortune smiles on us!”
Chapter Twenty-Six. Hostile Reception
THE NEWS OF OUR FINDING excited the entire crew. They immediately stopped unloading nickel iron ingots from the automatic processor. What was more, in expectation of finding unique treasures in the Relict base, Captain Uraz Tukhsh ordered the Shiamiru's cargo bay entirely cleared.
The captain demanded to see a schematic of the subsurface base. He showed it to the navigator and senior engineer as well. They spent a long time arguing and poking their clawed fingers into the screen of my scanner. From what I heard, I had not discovered the main entrance to a subsurface Relict base, but some kind of back door. And perhaps this wasn’t even a door, but simply a corridor that got exposed by the forming of the crevasse. In any case, the Geckho knew no other way into the subsurface complex, so they decided to clear the partially collapsed passage.
The captain and his senior assistants spent a long time deciding the most efficient way of clearing the cave-in and removing artifacts. As far as I understood, before we got into the outpost, we would have to somehow overcome thirty-five feet of rubble. What was more, the path was blocked not by pliable stone, but a hard metal alloy.
They first considered using explosives to clear the passage but decided against it in fear of causing the unstable asteroid to collapse even further, perhaps even caving the whole complex in. That would be a true catastrophe. Clearing the resulting billions of tons of nickel-iron ore would be a titanic endeavor.
So, the Geckho decided on the less risky plan of boring a hole. Our mechanics removed a drill from the ore processor, transported it and lowered it into the crevasse with a crane. I thought Uraz Tukhsh would move the shuttle closer to the crevasse. But instead, he ordered the twin brothers Basha and Vasha to bring two heavy robot loaders to the excavation site.
The drilling had every crew member busy except Uline and me. We were ordered to keep our distance, so our only insight into the process were the rare messages on the common channel. What was more, I was already out of air in my space-suit tank. I asked Uline if we could go back to the Shiamiru to refill it. My partner answered that she would be happy to help, but she didn’t have permission to open the airlock, and I would have to ask the captain, navigator or senior engineer.
And just then, it happened...
“They're through the collapse!” came the inspired voice of the drill operator. “There’s a round tunnel, then a thick stone wall.”
“Bore through that, too!” Uraz Tukhsh ordered.
A high-pitched squeal rang out, then a whistle, and the surprised drill operator said:
“Strong airflow! It looks like air pressure was maintained in the old base this whole time... Captain, there’s something moving! Ahhhhhh!”
For the next minute, Uline and I stood frozen in horror as we listened to the intensive gunfire, explosions and fearful shouts from our crewmembers as they died one after the next. We understood very little from their unintelligible screaming. Just panicked yelps, cries of pain, and demands for explanation. Apparently, almost no one managed to even see what killed them. In all the chaos, we heard just one indication. One Geckho shouted before death that he saw a metal hemisphere flying overhead. After that, everything went silent...
“Like I said, whenever Uraz Tukhsh says he has a good feeling, something bad happens!” Uline got wound up again, but I stopped her grumbling with a gesture and asked where the crew members’ respawn points were.
“On the Kasti-Utsh III space station, I guess. At the very least, that’s where mine is. It would be dumb to set respawn on your home planet. If anything were to happen, we'd have to wait many, many days for the next ship going our way. Meanwhile, it’s too dangerous to put a respawn point on the space ship — you could die once and for all like that if the ship is destroyed. So, probably Kasti-Utsh III.”
“What exactly is Kasti-Utsh III? I’ve never heard of it,” I enquired.
“A Miyelonian star base. It was our initial jump point to this distant system. It’s a large and well-developed station, a true center of civilization in this region of the galaxy. But flying from Kasti-Utsh here takes two ummi at the very least. So, we're both doomed. There’s not enough air, the Shiamiru is locked. First, you’ll die of suffocation, then me...”
Astrolinguistics skill increased to level twenty-seven!
I already knew an “ummi” was a unit of time used by the Geckho and several other races. In our standards, it was approximately five and half hours. Mhmm... this was not the most pleasant situation. Apparently, help would not be coming any time soon. In eleven hours, we'd be long dead from suffocation, both reborn at our respective respawn point.
Just then, a familiar voice rang out in my helmet intercom:
“This is Basha Tushihh, my brother is standing next to me. We were bringing the heavy loaders from the processors to the excavation site and, seemingly missed something important. Should my brother and I, like, kill ourselves to get back to the others?”
“Yes, you understand perfectly,” Uline Tar confirmed fatedly. “Us three have to commit suicide right now and respawn on Kasti-Utsh III with the whole crew. Otherwise, the others will find a ship coming this way and leave without us.”
The three Geckho were speaking so calmly of suicide, as if it was a near daily ritual. That put me beside myself. What was more, I personally found that option absolutely unacceptable. The Geckho would all respawn together on the far-off space station, hire a ship coming this way, and fly back for the invaluable treasure, taking their failure into account and responding appropriately. But after the oxygen in my space suit ran out, I would die and respawn at my capital base. And I somehow doubted that Captain Uraz Tukhsh would deign to fly down and share the spoils with me. Also, how would he do that if he didn’t even know where my base was?!
This space suit was very dismal compensation compared to the unique treasures of the secret base of an ancient mysterious race. And so, before the Geckho m
anaged to kill themselves, I would have to change something.
“What is this?! Come on, friends, has fear made you lose your minds? As soon as you meet resistance, you turn coward? You are the proud and brave Geckho, not some sniveling cowards! You know no equals in the universe and, for my race, you are an example to be imitated. Why give up so easily? We haven't even seen what killed our friends. Maybe we can take it down!”
Perhaps, I overdid it because the Trader sharply turned, clearly pretty mad. But Uline took a breath and lowered her shoulders:
“What else can we do, Gnat? We’re not warriors. I'm a simple trader. My job is to know prices and the particularities of various interstellar markets. Vasha and Basha are just peaceful loaders. How can we defeat an enemy that even our guards couldn’t handle? And how will that help us if we suffocate anyway?”
But then I found an unexpected ally:
“This is Basha Tushihh. Actually, Gnat is right. All is not lost yet. The Shiamiru's cargo hold is open after all, and we can get food from there and use it to access the inside of the ship. Do you remember two flights ago when our lock got jammed, and the mechanics opened a hole in the cargo bay? We could try to repeat their trick. We have tools, so we could try to fool the mechanism! If we get through to the ship, we’ll have air and food! And we can wait for the others there!”
“That sounds good,” Vasha Tushihh agreed with his brother. “I just got to level sixty-three, so I don’t want to go down and lose skills...”
* * *
The three Geckho were standing inside the depressurized cargo hold patiently waiting for me to study the magnetic locking device and figure out how to turn it off. I was using a set of electronic probes and screwdrivers unscrewing the massive lock and cutting wires one after the next, trying to ignore the delirium brought on by my rapidly depleting oxygen levels.
“Ready! All four magnetic bolts are undone, and these bars just need to be pulled out manually,” I pointed my enormous assistants to them and walked away from the door.
Just like humans, with crowbars in their strong hands, hooting and cursing with every burst, the two huge Geckho started carrying out my order. It wasn’t right away, but the obstacle gave. They worked out all the bars and the door into the airlock opened.
Break-in skill increased to level nine!
Break-in skill increased to level ten!
Break-in skill increased to level eleven!
Break-in skill increased to level twelve!
Electronics skill increased to level eighteen!
You have reached level twenty-four!
You have received three skill points!
A minute later, now in the familiar hallway of the Shiamiru, I removed my sweaty helmet with untold joy and took in a lungful of oxygen-rich air. What a joy!!! How little a person needs to be happy. Sometimes it’s just a matter of breathing. My head started spinning like I was drunk. I walked to an empty bunk and fell back into someone's cot right in my spacesuit.
Fame increased to 15.
I was hoped this message was positive and because we’d saved ourselves, not because I had taken someone else's bed without asking. Although, even if it was the latter, the cot owner would not be back any time soon, so I wasn’t planning to get up.
“I’ll heat up some food for everyone,” Uline Tar challenged herself. “We can discuss what to do next over a meal.”
Just in the nick of time. Gnat’s hunger bar was also down in the red zone, and my Prospector had long needed to eat. But I couldn’t satisfy my hunger, because I’d used all my dried rations trading with the harpy for the laser pistol.
Uline walked further up the corridor, while Vasha and Basha pulled out a small table from the bunk wall. Just three minutes later, the trader returned, carrying a tray with four deep metal bowls of dark-red spicy-smelling slop.
I lowered my spoon into the thick pottage and raised it to my mouth. The extraterrestrial stew was unbearably spicy. I barely managed to swallow the burning glop, because it got stuck in my throat. Tears welled up in my eyes. I could barely breathe and even took out my flask to chase the blistering concoction. My first thought was that they were playing a joke on me. However, their bowls had the same stuff.
Both twin brothers grumbled through their tightly clenched teeth, obviously taking pleasure in my discomfort.
“This is a traditional vegetable soup of our people, made with a burning underground nut,” Uline explained warmheartedly. “Usually, two-thirds of food packets on all Geckho starships contain this stew. I do not know what men see in it. To my eye, it's inedible.”
“Woman, you simply do not understand all the charms of male cuisine,” Basha intervened in the conversation. “This dish makes the soul of a true Geckho man sing. It eliminates weariness and multiplies potency.”
In reply, the trader snorted in dismay:
“Not to upset you, Basha, but there have been less barbaric methods of increasing male stamina for hundreds of years. If you’re having problems, I can send the names of at least ten effective medicines. There’s no reason to burn the stomach with this red swill.”
Both brothers rumbled again. Apparently, a sharp tongue and ability to joke at others’ expense was valued on the Shiamiru. I also smiled and risked trying another spoonful of soup. But this time, I was morally prepared and managed to swallow the nuclear vegetable glop. Actually, it was more than edible. I even found it tasty. But the abundance of burning spice made the vegetable soup a true ordeal for the tongue and throat. Fortunately, I had a canteen of water so, after every spoonful, I took a small swallow and gave my throat some respite.
Constitution raised to 13.
Yes! That was the best improvement I could imagine. The last remnants of the slop went down much easier, entirely filling my hunger bar. The traditional Geckho stew was not only burning, but also very nourishing. And my exhaustion also passed. I felt full of energy and ready to get back to work. Following my crewmates’ example, I overturned my empty bowl, demonstrating that I had overcome the trial.
Fame increased to 16.
“You must be tough, Gnat!” Basha Tushihh snarled in approval. “I’ll admit, I wasn’t expecting it. I even had a bet with my brother. Not all Geckho appreciate our burning stew, which is to say nothing about members of other races. Before you got here, there was a human woman in our crew. That spacesuit actually used to belong to her. Anyway, she couldn’t handle our cooking, and quit after the first trip.”
Like a hunting dog, I got the scent and tried to find out about this mysterious lady. What was her name, where was she from and what was her profession? The answer surprised me:
“Yeah, who knows? I didn’t ask... Members of your race can be found in the whole galaxy, though they are quite rare. There are some people in the Meleyephatian horde. The Miyelonians also have some human vassals...”
“She was from Tailax, a Tailaxian,” Uline joined the conversation. “A psionic, I do not know why the captain brought her along. She had a bodyguard with her, also human. And a predatory animal that could turn invisible. But they all left the Shiamiru long ago. It was a bad fit.”
I spent some more time trying to find out about these extraterrestrial humans, but my Geckho friends didn’t really know much. I understood one thing for sure. The humans living in those distant star systems were totally different, neither of my Earth, or the Dark Faction’s.
Time passed. There was nothing to do on the Shiamiru. Basha and Vasha were entertaining themselves by gambling at what looked like three-dimensional holographic checkers. Uline had opened the folding bed and lied down for a rest. But I didn’t want to sleep at all. In fact, after that nuclear meal, I felt like I'd taken steroids.
I walked around the whole shuttle and even looked into the bridge, but all the panels were inactive and the screens were dark, so there was nothing to do. The captain’s chambers were locked. Although the number pad at the door didn’t look too complicated, I had enough sense not to try and force my way into Uraz
Tukhsh’s room.
What to do? Sitting in a locked shuttle for another ten hours would be boring and useless. What then? Leave the game into the real world? Make a report to the leadership, get some sleep and come back in ten hours when there would be some action. A lot of landing ships would be arriving, and there would be hundreds of Geckho soldiers who would take the Relict base by assault. The Geckho would leave me mere crumbs at best. Most likely, they wouldn’t even let me get near their unique treasure. I had no doubts that was exactly what would happen. A total wash, and I really had no idea why I had even broken into the Shiamiru.
Should I risk it and try to fight my way into the subsurface base? I suspected I wouldn’t be able to convince my companions. Now, death from suffocation was no longer a threat, so all three Geckho were sitting peacefully clearly intending to wait for help to arrive. Go out alone? There was a high chance I would die there, like many crew members before me and reappear on the H3 base, again with nothing to show for it. Also not an option...
So, hoping desperately that I wasn’t doing something impossibly stupid, I changed my respawn point to our bunk on the Shiamiru. After that, I declared to my neighbors that I was going off for recon to see whatever had killed our crew members with my own eyes.
Chapter Twenty-Seven. Relict Base
THE GECKHO REACTED with surprising restraint. No one tried to talk me out of it or appeal to my sense of reason. Both the brothers stayed silent. The trader just mocked me: “Do as you wish, it’s your life. I'm not your nanny.” Basha Tushihh helped me open the door out of the air lock into the cargo bay and gave a miserly goodbye wave before immediately losing interest. Apparently, none of the Geckho thought I had any chance.
I had to admit, I also had my doubts, but it was the only way for me (and humanity as a whole) to squeeze any artifacts from the base of the ancient race, so I made a conscious, calculated risk. After all, if I died, I had little to lose. I'd just zero-out my level-twenty-five progress bar, but that was nothing at my relatively low level.
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