Book Read Free

Sector Eight (Perimeter Defense: Book #1)

Page 3

by Michael Atamanov


  My thirst continued to grow. I stood up again and, after wrapping myself in the blanket, I set out to take a look at the walls of my... what was this place to me anyway? It was too comfortable to be a prison, but too empty to be normal living quarters. When I walked up to the next section of wall, a space noiselessly opened in it. A piece of stone just came out of the wall and slid to the side, exposing a semicircular archway leading into another room, which turned out to be a bathroom. It came in very handy, as it were – as did the entrance to the shower I found next to it. On the ledge in the shower, there was a plethora of containers I couldn't read strewn about, but that wasn't what stopped me at all. There was a mirror on the wall, and I looked into it.

  "Ahhhhh!" A scream of despair and fear ripped its way from my chest again.

  It wasn't me in the mirror! Looking back at me, from the mirror, was... what's his name... Georgiy Innokentievich! It was his face to be sure, swollen after drinking, looking back at me with cloudy eyes from a rectangular frame. That’s his dark hair, his nose and his eyes! How the hell…? I stepped back and practically fell down, obviously the fault of the previous day's activities. Along with all that, I had to constantly focus my vision. There were these dark spots constantly moving to obscure my view, and that bothered me a lot.

  Think! Think now! The possibility that I was already somehow playing, and that was why I saw someone else's face in the mirror was seeming more and more likely. It was the face of a character created by a different player. Obviously, I would have to play for him now. But what do I even know about my character? I took another look in the mirror. A dark-haired, middle-aged man. Pretty bloated and with a noticeable gut. If he did play any sports, you'd never have guessed it from his figure. That was probably pretty far from something Georgiy did often. Folds of fat dangled loosely from my manboobs and flapped on my belly. Why the hell would you make such an egregiously repugnant character? By the way, what is his name?

  As if answering my question, an information box appeared before my eyes:

  Georg royl Inoky ton Mesfelle, Crown Prince of the Empire

  Age: 47

  That put my bare butt right on the uncovered floor. So, now I was sure I was in the game. What more proof did I need?! And now it was my job to play this "Crown Prince" called Georg who, in his 47 years, has left his body in such a state that you couldn’t even look at it without wanting to cry!

  I wanted to get some more information about my character, like his characteristics, you know, like, strength, agility, charisma... Though... how could you even think about charisma if just looking at this guy had made me react with complete disgust?! But, try as I might, I couldn't figure out how to get to any screen to see my characteristics. Maybe they didn't have that in this game. The only thing I could find out about Georg royl Inoky came from something like a popup:

  Race: Human

  Gender: Male

  Class: Aristocrat, Mystic

  Achievements: None

  Fame: +4

  Standing: - 27

  What's the deal with his standing? Why the hell would it be negative? I got embarrassed for myself somehow. I walked up to the mirror again, calmer this time, and looked at my new face. My eyes were expressionless, off-white with very bright irises that contrasted sharply with my dark hair. They had a reddish tinge, either from being tired or drunk. There were also dark bags under them. A straight nose. Slightly baggy cheeks. A bit unshaven. Teeth... In this department, Georg had actually made me happy. He had a full set, and they were ideally even and white. My real teeth had a chip on the upper right incisor (for some reason, idiot that I am, I once opened a beer bottle with my teeth) and I was missing two teeth on the left side. I was afraid of dentists and disregarded cavities when I was in my last few years of school. So, at least in that one regard, my virtual character was better than the real me.

  My neck was solid, but not very long. My body... Well, it was so doughy that you couldn't even properly call it a body. I was reminded of a cruel nickname my friends and I used to call a fat classmate in school: “wide load.” Now, I was the "wide load." I had obviously weak arms, and there was an ungainly tattoo on my left forearm in the shape of some kind of cartoon character that was driving me nuts. It was either a badly drawn donkey with bulged out eyes and butterfly wings, or some kind of insect with four appendages and either hooves or claws. I had medium-length legs that were fat and strong. Also, my toenails were painted alternately dark blue and green. Between the legs... Well, at least the Crown Prince didn't have any problems in that regard. I even let loose a whistle and felt a pang of jealousy.

  I was getting thirstier, so I took a risk and tried the water straight out of the tap. The local water wasn't too pleasant. It had some metallic undertones, but in any case it sated my thirst. After that, I took a shower (by the way, it was really classy with a big selection of functions and panels), dried off with paper towels and went back to the bedroom because there wasn't anything else to do in the bathroom. While I was out of the room, the bed had disappeared on its own up into a slot in the wall, leaving the room completely empty. I was standing in the middle of the room and looking attentively at the walls, but I couldn't find any doors other than the two to the toilet and shower I'd found earlier. But this can't be?! Funny, I'm stuck in my own bedroom!

  "Building map!" I said loudly and clearly, not knowing how to get out of this ridiculous situation and trying the first thing that came to mind.

  It worked! A detailed schematic of the floor with hallways, closed rooms, some kind of elevators and a "you are here” marker in one of the rooms appeared before me. But what caught my eye wasn't the semitransparent map that had appeared before my eyes but the writing below it:

  Third (residential) deck of the heavy assault cruiser, Marta the Harlot

  I didn't even know what to be more surprised by. Was it the fact that I was on an assault cruiser? Or the fact that I asked for a map and it just appeared at my command? Or was it that some moron named a military ship something so strange and unfitting? In any case, I decided to leave all these questions for later. What was important was getting out of my bedroom. Without effort, I expanded the image and found that there were three exits in my room. One to the bathroom, the second was a very narrow door for staff, behind the corner panel. (The plan showed there being a ventilation shaft and power cables there.) The third exit was right in the middle of the wall and went into the big hall shown on the map as the "Guest Room." I walked in the direction of the wall shown on the map, and the wall panel moved noiselessly up into the ceiling. I had finally found the exit!

  "Ahhhhh!" I jumped back and covered my nakedness with my hands. "Please forgive me!"

  There was a fat old lady sprawled out on a pink sofa in the big hall wearing a long bathrobe and golden hair curlers. There was a thick layer of greasy cream on the aged woman's face. The woman slowly turned her head toward me and bellowed out in an extremely annoyed tone:

  "Georg, I'm being serious. That's quite enough! If you're going to scare me and scream like you're being cut every time you take crystals, I'm going to divorce you once and for all. Do you understand?"

  There were a few things in her speech that caught my attention right away. The first and most important: that fat cow was my wife. It was extremely hard to believe, because she wasn't to my taste at all. Nevertheless, after looking at her again while averting my gaze, I read the information in the popup window:

  Marta royl Valesy ton Mesfelle-Kyle, Princess of the Star Kingdom of Fastel, ruler of the planet Fastel-XI

  Age: 38

  Race: Human

  Gender: Female

  Relation to you: Your legal wife

  Class: Aristocrat

  Achievements: None

  Fame: +2

  Standing: - 9

  Presumed personal opinion of you: -57 (hate)

  Kingdom of Fastel's opinion of you: -11 (dislike)

  She really was my wife! And, for some reason, she hated me! What
a twist!

  The second thing I paid attention to was that she had said "divorce you once and for all." What was that supposed to mean? Was it that we already basically were divorced but it wasn't "once and for all" yet? That struck me as strange; however, I was not able to find any more information about why our relationship was strained.

  The third thing was also important. It would seem that this wasn't the first time I had reacted this way in front of my wife. Why? Could it be that I had already been in a similar situation? Or maybe this character has already been played by some people other than Mr. G. I. himself?

  And finally, the fourth thing. My wife had made a passing reference to crystals. What was that all about? I wasn't even too surprised when a hint about that very question appeared before my eyes:

  Crystalloquasimetal-cis-isomer valiarimic acid (slang: crystals). A synthetic narcotic substance with a pronounced hallucinogenic effect. Noted for the extended effect of its narcotic state (from 48 to 86 hours), which presents a non-negligible risk of death to the user due to dehydration. Addiction to crystals begins from the first use.

  Consuming crystals became fashionable during the universal popularization of the "drang-musik" musical movement between 658 and 712 and was widely consumed by composers and artists. Later, consumption of crystals became popular among scientists and the upper aristocracy as well. At present, the manufacturing and distribution of crystals is strictly forbidden by the laws of the Empire and can be punished by death, as can consumption of crystals by individuals who are not on the special list of Mystics, reaffirmed yearly by the Emperor.

  Effects of taking crystals: may cause detachment from distracting factors, with concentration of cognitive activity for solving day-to-day problems, often in an extremely nonstandard way. This kind of cognitive activity has produced results: from optimal algorithms for complex systems, to captivating scripts, brilliant financial solutions for firms, winning strategies at various logic games, and much, much more. There have even been recorded occurrences when the individual taking crystals had a very weak understanding of a subject, yet was able to make a scientific breakthrough in it.

  Side effects: very strong narcotic dependency; the need to redose on crystals every 5-8 days, with a slightly higher dose required each time; serious weakening of the body's immune system; reduction of overall muscle mass; and a high probability of developing chronic diseases of the gastrointestinal tract and urogenital system. Notable reduction in sexual activity in individuals of both genders to the point of complete refusal of sexual contact.

  Well, I'll be damned! I couldn't believe what I'd read. I have to play a fat, impotent drug addict! Thanks, Georgiy, you did me a solid. If I'd have known this from the start, I'd have told you right where to stick your “good deal!” And no bodyguards would have been able to stop me from giving you a smack right to the jaw!

  "What are you looking at? Is your brain still switched off after the drugs? What are you doing walking naked around the berth, swinging your useless family jewels around? Don't embarrass yourself, go get dressed. Your officers could come in with a report any minute!" My fat wife pointed at a crack in the wall. That must have been where the clothes closet was.

  Not giving an answer to her hurtful words, I set off for the closet and started getting dressed, trying not to pay attention to the shameless way Marta was looking at me. By the way, was it her that this ship was named after? I'd have to look up where the name of this cruiser came from and how my wife behaved herself, when I got the chance.

  The clothes were bizarre. The underwear were form-fitting and very thin. The unitard was like a jacket and pants sewn together with self-correcting rubber bands, fitting it exactly to the shape of your body. I finally figured it all out and put the clothes on. It wasn't too fast, but there were also no particular problems. I especially liked the boots. They were high, practically to the knee, but soft, and you couldn't feel them on your feet at all. The situation immediately became easier to handle with clothes on. I had barely gotten dressed, when the trill of the doorbell rang out and a gray-haired old man came into the room in a severe, silvery-gray uniform. He bowed deeply and declared in an official tone:

  “My Prince, officers from the ship are awaiting you in the entrance hall. Shall I let them in?"

  I looked at the old man. A popup told me that the person standing before me was my 135-year-old, loyal personal secretary and butler, by the name Bryle:

  Presumed personal opinion of you: +37 (loyal)

  "Remind me, Bryle. What am I to discuss with these officers?" I asked my servant.

  If he was surprised, he was doing a good job of hiding it. Bryle bowed again and told me that I myself had asked them to bring a detailed report on all skirmishes with the aliens and, also, that I was preparing to share my new defense strategy for Perimeter Sector Eight with my subjects. No more, no less! I laboriously swallowed the lump that appeared in my throat.

  "Tell them..." I began, looking for a reason to get rid of these officers who had appeared at such an inopportune moment, but I suddenly changed my mind and said, "No, never mind. I'll tell them everything myself."

  Bryle nodded gently at me and placed his hand on an illuminated circle, which opened the entrance door. Trying not to lose my resolve, I went out into the hall. There were six people there in military uniforms and one "nonperson," a ten-foot-tall insect that looked like a praying mantis with six appendages of various lengths. The upper pair of "arms" were hypertrophically huge, with spikes that gleamed menacingly on its chitin armor, and looked scary even when folded up. The middle pair of appendages were thin and maneuverable, the so-called "humanlike arms." And the lower pair looked something more like what you'd call "legs" with backward knees. The first thing to jump out about the insect's face was its eyes. They were enormous, each one was the size of a soccer ball. I could see myself, the hallway, and the frozen soldiers reflected hundreds of times in miniature form in its compound eyes.

  I quickly looked around at everyone, but there was only information on two of them: the squat, almost square man in a heavily armored suit and the ten-foot-high praying mantis.

  Mwaur Zen-Bey, captain of the Imperial Space Marines

  Race: Human

  Gender: Male

  Class: Military

  Achievements: Has combat medals for participation in interspecies conflicts

  Fame: +2

  Standing: + 2

  Presumed personal opinion of you: -3 (indifferent)

  Empire Military faction opinion of you: -10 (dislike)

  There was very little information about the praying mantis:

  Triasss Zess, assistant to the ambassador of the Iseyek State to the Empire

  Race: Alpha Iseyek

  Gender: Neutral, third clutch

  Class: Diplomat

  Achievements: None

  Fame: +1

  Standing: + 2

  Presumed personal opinion of you: Unknown

  Iseyek race opinion of you: 0 (indifferent)

  I wondered what made these two characters different from the other four. Why could I find out more about them, but not the others? Were they real players, while the others were NPCs? That was probably it.

  When I appeared, the people froze at attention, as did the extraterrestrial diplomat, pressing his arms to his torso, obviously copying the pose the people were making. I asked which one of them had prepared the materials I requested. The six military men exchanged confused glances. Either they were all counting on someone else to do it, or they all had just equally forgotten about my order. It looked strange. What were they doing coming to a scheduled meeting with the Prince and not even taking the time to prepare? The ambassador saved the situation. Triasss Zess stepped forward and, in a very clean-accented human voice, told me that he had prepared a whole collection of materials on all times people had encountered the mysterious race and added materials to that about encounters the Iseyek race had had with these aliens as well.

  Inst
antly recognizing the opportunity that had presented itself to sit and study the materials one by one while simultaneously finding out more about the overall game world, I dismissed the six military men:

  "My good men, I will have to first carefully study the materials brought by the honorable Triasss Zess in order to make any necessary corrections to our defense plans and take all information into account. Please forgive me. It seems I called this meeting prematurely. I'll need some more time..."

  I lost track of what I was saying a bit when my gaze accidentally fell on the wide, oval porthole behind the soldiers. Behind the thick glass there were some long metal arms like cranes or claws on the backdrop of the inky blackness of space. It was then that I realized that the ship I was on, Marta the Harlot, was not a typical oceangoing ship but a real-life star cruiser.

  "... Could you please leave me alone with the honorable ambassador?" I asked, finally having collected my thoughts and turning quickly away from the window.

  It seemed that the soldiers weren't too happy with the fact that I wanted to conduct a discussion alone with the Iseyek; however, none of them chose to express their dissatisfaction out loud. I pulled back to the side, letting the ambassador into the hall. It seemed that I had done something wrong, as the praying mantis froze for a few seconds before coming through the door.

 

‹ Prev