Aces High (Reality Benders Book #6) LitRPG Series

by Michael Atamanov

  Beyond that, there was a new transparent emerald green table on a little carved leg, and on it was the distinctive black parallelepiped of a Miyelonian wallet and a set of clothing sealed inside a thin plastic package. First of all, I checked the wallet, activating it by pressing the opposite edges. Not bad. This was a multi-currency wallet which could perform transactions with the Geckho or Trillian money as well. And the account contained fifty thousand crypto — the exact amount I’d withdrawn from the game. For security’s sake, I set a password that would be as face-meltingly hard for members of other space races as it would be easy for me to remember. Something like “FoRtY tHOuSaNd MoNkEyS sTuCk BaNaNaS uP tHeIr BuMs” (thanks to fantasy writer Sergei Lukanyekno for that little lifehack), and I started putting on the clothes that had been set out for me.

  What can I say about the suit...? I suppose it would be ideal for a cosplay party. A one-piece somewhere between pajamas and overalls, soft on the inside and covered with thick black fur on the outside. The hood even came with little “ears” sewn on it, which looked very much like a Miyelonian’s, while a three-foot long black tail dragged behind its backside. I didn’t understand — was this someone’s very elaborate idea of mockery, or was I simply insufficiently familiar with Miyelonian culture, and thus not grasping the full depth of the philosophical intent behind it?

  The thing was that, as my psionic abilities had grown, I found myself unwittingly reading thoughts and emotions of those around me more and more often. And Miyelonians I didn’t know (nonmembers of Team Gnat) often bore poorly hidden disgust toward creatures not covered in fur. The bare skin of a human was unpleasant and even nasty to them. Maybe the Miyelonian costume makers wanted to help me look nicer in the eyes of the Great One? That may well have been, but I myself felt unbearably stupid in the ridiculous getup. And if it was intended as a uniform for my official meeting with the Miyelonian fleet commander, then I suppose I’d rather just go in the hospital gown and frayed pants.

  The door, which had been locked for the duration of my quarantine, this time obediently slid aside.

  “Follow me! Keetsie is waiting for you,” said Gerd Lekku, who was standing next to the doors (and I recognized the dangerous Brawler and fiancé of the Great One right away). He said nary a word about my appearance and led me down a well-lit corridor toward a bank of elevators. For the record, in the real world, Lekku also wore a blood-red suit of heavy armor and was in fact identical to his in-game avatar.

  A high-speed elevator, then another couple corridors, the last containing a suspicious number of brawny Miyelonians staring at me guardedly. Despite their civilian dress, it was easy to guess these “peaceful residents” were elite First Pride fighters. Finally, my guide stopped next to an unremarkable door:

  “Kung Keetsie-Myau is inside by herself, with no assistants, servants or even the guard detail her status requires. The Great One requested it that way. She’s showing you a lot of trust, human. Appreciate it!”

  THE MODEST VERY SMALL room was utterly inconsistent with the level of this leader of the Miyelonian race. Furniture nowhere near new, poorly cleaned traces of a long-standing wire flare-up, carpeting so worn and faded in places that you could see the metal flooring beneath. Nevertheless, in the middle of the room, on an old and badly worn levitating chair, I did indeed discover Kung Keetsie-Myau holding an empty glass in her paw and reclining wearily as she attentively observed my conduct. I went down on one knee in respect, greeting the highly powerful lady.

  “On your feet, Gnat. And pour yourself a glass of whatever you like,” the Miyelonian pointed at a small mini bar built into the wall and, after a few seconds of silence, added with a slight chuckle, “your unstated complaints are wrong. In fact, you’re double wrong. This is indeed my home. My parents lived here, and I grew up under this roof. And I am not the one who ordered the fluffy costume you so disapproved of. Believe me, I have seen some very freaky creatures in outer space, so the fact that some of them have no fur stopped shocking me a while ago. For the record, there was some sense behind that outfit suggestion, though. You have a good opinion of Miyelonians, have learned our language perfectly and you are comfortable around members of my race. And for those reasons, my assistants believed you would not be opposed to becoming a Miyelonian and in fact would be morally prepared to do so. Not to merely dress as a member of my race, but to truly become a Miyelonian. Gnat, do you know what that is?”

  The Great One swiped her clawed paw, pointing at a large and clearly heavy metal container against the wall, which was covered in a thick layer of frost. I set my glass aside, which I’d filled with bubbly green wine from a strange spiral bottle, then took a closer look at the container. Hmm... What a familiar item! Sure it may have been somewhat strange to see an item I was familiar with in the game in the real world, but there could be no doubt — before me was an ancient container from a Precursor treasure hoard. And it even had the very same ancient hieroglyphs on the lid as the chest we’d dug up on the ice comet.

  “I see you know the answer to my question. I’ll admit, Leng Gnat, you’ve really surprised me there. Few currently living entities know of the existence of such Precursor treasures, and only a handful have actually found one. But don’t be surprised, the game and reality are connected, and so the Precursor artifacts can be found in any world.”

  The Great One seemed somewhat upset — the surprise she had prepared for me didn’t work as intended. I then filled my glass, then a second of the same. I walked over to the Miyelonian ruler and extended one of the glasses. Then I explained aloud, though it’s possible the Truth Seeker had already read the information from my brain:

  “I have the very same kind of chest in the common room of my starship, though it honestly is now empty. And I know perfectly well what you’re referring to, Keetsie: the black pebble, once thawed out, starts to glow purple. But I didn’t use the ancient forbidden artifact to change race or game class, even though I could have. And I will not now.”

  “Too bad,” Keetsie drained her glass in one swig and asked me to pour her another of the same, “you’d have made a great Miyelonian. You would adapt to our society easily. And it would make your orange Translator so happy! I didn’t even have to use my Truth Seeker skills to see how much she likes you, even in human guise. You’ll probably find it interesting to learn that Ayni even consulted with the ship Medic to see if it would be physically possible for a Miyelonian woman to have interspecies sex with a Human male. Anyway, I didn’t put in all this effort for the sake of that young affection-starved female. I wanted to thank you for the valuable information about the Meleyephatian Horde and get you, Gnat, out of harm’s way.”

  Kung Keetsie-Myau was observing my reaction closely, but I just batted my eyes blankly. What the heck was she talking about? What “harm?” She had to explain:

  “You must not have heard yet because you’ve been isolated from recent news. But know this, human. The Union of Miyelonian Prides has signed a peace treaty with the Meleyephatian Horde. From now on, the brunt of the war will be borne by the Geckho and their vassals. And meanwhile, the Meleyephatians are in a very serious mood and are even transferring their main fleet from the outskirts of known space to fight the current war with the Geckho. All our analysts say the same thing — that the Geckho are in a very tight spot. No, your suzerains will not be exterminated as a race, but they will be forced to bring in all their forces to defend their core star systems. And as for defending remote colonies and vassals, forget about it — the Geckho will not be able to find the resources. And so, the prospects for your home planet of Earth are very nasty indeed. I cannot see a force capable of defending it from space invasion. And you, Gnat, have been named an official enemy of the Horde, and thus you would be executed as soon as the Meleyephatians got their hands on you. So maybe that will get you to consider our offer and perhaps become a Miyelonian.”

  The news that the Union of Miyelonian Prides had exited the war was very troubling, but I nevertheless insisted
that my intention to remain a human was inviolable, as was my desire to struggle for the freedom of my home planet. And Keetsie didn’t insist:

  “You know best, Gnat. It’s your life, I’m not your babysitter. For the record, there is one other elegant solution to this whole thing — Earth’s humankind could trade masters and become vassals of the Miyelonians. Then the scorching-hot space war wouldn’t touch you. And when your term of safety is up, those who covet your planet...” Keetsie made a second’s pause and corrected herself, “both of your planets, will be very few in number. If any would even dare.”

  Based on the way Kung Keetsie-Myau cast off her ostentatious calm, straightened up in her chair and immediately turned serious, I realized the whole conversation up to that point including offering to let me change races was just working up to the thing she really considered important. And meanwhile, the Miyelonian ruler continued to build on her thought, at the same time showing that she was well aware of the state of affairs in my inner circle:

  “Soon, your assistant Uline Tar will be marrying the Geckho Viceroy of Earth. You are among the invited guests and I am certain that a crafty opportunist such as yourself will be able to find a convenient opportunity for a face-to-face chat with Kosta Dykhsh. Ask the Viceroy what price the Geckho would be willing to accept to give up the title to your virtual planet. I imagine that, after the recently signed peace treaty between the Horde and the Miyelonians, it will have decreased significantly.”

  So, I’m just supposed to up and ask whether the Geckho would maybe consider selling Earth to the Miyelonians? I was not at all sure that the Viceroy would even respond to such a provocative question. He might even throw me out and accuse me of treason or working for the competing Miyelonian race. But the Great One continued to try and convince me:

  “Don’t you worry, human. The Viceroy will not be angered by the query. Much will become clear once you learn the history of Clan Waideh-Dykhsh. Or rather, if you are able to uncover their history, given the clan changes name regularly and information about their activities is scrubbed from all public sources. I for example had to use my political connections and even spies embedded in Geckho society to get my paws on what would seem to be completely run-of-the-mill information. At any rate, I’ll have you know that Clan Waideh-Dykhsh, as it is now called, has changed name on several occasions but, since time immemorial, it has engaged in the sale of problem territories the Geckho were unable to hold. Or the annexation of territories the Geckho had no legal claim to. Clan Waideh-Dykhsh works directly for the Krong of their race. They do so quietly and try not to publicize their activity, which is nowhere near always strictly legal. But that way, if some big scandal does erupt, it will all be blamed on some little-known clan, and no one will blame the ruler of the great spacefaring Geckho race. The scandalized clan will ‘collapse,’ but in fact just change names yet again. It isn’t hard to understand that members of Clan Waideh-Dykhsh do not want too much publicity, given the particular nature of their work. But did it really not surprise you that some apparently modest player was appointed Viceroy of a large inhabitable planet? He isn’t even a gerd! Or that even his future bride knows nothing about her fiancé and the forces standing behind him? And that the Geckho are undertaking some grand-scale construction projects all over your planet, but carefully concealing their true purpose?”

  Wait, wait! She had voiced my own concerns and fears with too great an accuracy, adding her own commentary and difficult-to-confirm facts as reinforcement. Seemingly, if I were in the game just then, I would be seeing skill-up messages for Mental Fortitude, because I was now being read like an open book. And meanwhile she was trying to psionically steer my thoughts down the proper channel.

  “Don’t sell your abilities short, Gnat. I can’t exactly read you ‘like an open book,’“ Keetsie chuckled happily, clearly entertained by my shame and fear as she established complete control over my mind. “Since our last encounter, you’ve improved considerably as a psionic. At times, it was hard to read your hidden intentions and fears. But the reason I am a Truth Seeker is so I can understand those I converse with and extract information from the very deepest layers of their memory. Yes, it’s an inborn talent of mine. For me, not reading thoughts is basically the same as not breathing.”

  “Okay, let’s be frank,” I tried to calm down, make peace with the fact that my thoughts were available to her, and concentrate on what was most important. “Let’s say the Viceroy of Earth really does name a price at which the Geckho would be willing to get rid of their now problematic ‘asset.’ Let’s say your race accepts that price. What next? Will the Miyelonians pay up and take the place of the Geckho at the spaceport and other such structures on the planet?”

  “No Human, that isn’t at all how it works,” came the Great One, having attained understanding in the main issue, stretching out back into her seat and turning to the wine. “It isn’t the Miyelonians that would have to put together the money, it would be the Humans. That will be the price of your liberation from vassalage. The price of freedom. Although if humanity has problems getting all that cash together, the Miyelonians could help you out. Not for free, of course. You and my assistants can discuss the rate and duration of the loan, as well as the form of remuneration. The Miyelonians are not fussy, and we would be willing to accept payment in crystals, crypto, resources, territories, or ancient Relict laboratories,” Keetsie drew attention to the last part with her voice and gave a satisfied chuckle when she noticed my fear.

  But really, what was I surprised about? I should have expected it. Such a powerful figure, who was well informed about all important events of course would have already known that Free Captain Leng Gnat had found something so truly interesting. How many Miyelonians did I have in my crew? Tini, Gerd Ayni, Gerd Mauu-La, Orun Va-Mart. Four. Any of them could have considered it their duty to immediately share such important information with one of the rulers of their race. Although... Tini was working for Priestess Leng Amiru U-Mayaoo. He was sure to have told her specifically. That left three. Keetsie recently mentioned that she had spoken with Ayni. Yes, most likely the information leaked through Ayni. Although I couldn’t exclude my ship Medic either...

  “It doesn’t matter one bit who told me about the ancient laboratory,” Kung Keetsie-Myau interrupted my attempts to guess. “You yourself were one of my sources. I have extracted much from your mind just now. But what does matter is something entirely different. After humanity pays the entire sum, the Geckho will no longer be duty-bound to defend your race. And after the synchronization of the game and real worlds is complete, they might even attack your planet... or rather both planets. Now obviously the Geckho have bigger concerns, namely the war with the Meleyephatian Horde. But know this, human — that chance would exist. And the Geckho would be fully within their rights to try and wrest away control of your ownerless planet, as would any other spacefaring race. So, it will be critically important for humanity to enlist the support of another strong race before the tong of safety is up. Naturally, I am referring to the Miyelonians. The standard thirty percent of resources extracted, plus the ancient Relict laboratory I mentioned, and we will provide dependable security for planet Earth.”

  Here I couldn’t hold back and broke down laughing. The Miyelonian ruler turned out to be such a shrewd negotiator:

  “Keetsie, you want two densely populated vassal planets, an ancient Relict laboratory, a fairly high amount of crystals, crypto and territories, plus a thirty-percent tribute from the fifteen billion people of our two planets. And all that without the slightest effort on your part, without so much as tapping two claws together?”

  But Kung Keetsie-Myau wasn’t the least bit ashamed, and didn’t see what had me so amused:

  “Gnat, you are still young and inexperienced, and so there is much you do not understand. In the galaxy, any player in the game of politics bases their decisions on three things: technological development level, authority and military might. The Union of Miyelonian Prides has
all those in full measure, and that is why we are reckoned with and considered successful. The Miyelonians are truly capable of achieving their stated objectives. Either the nice way, by negotiating. Or the nasty way, by force. And I am the most powerful ruler of the Miyelonians and have grown accustomed to getting absolutely everything I desire!”

  Keetsie straightened up in her chair again. I saw dangerous little lights flickering in the Miyelonian’s constricted eyes, while her voice rang out steely:

  “Gnat, I need the ancient Relict laboratory. I also need two new vassal planets, but not nearly as badly. When I get what I’m after (and I will have it one way or another), my standing among the rulers of my race will easily be high enough to reach Krong status and occupy the throne of the sole ruler of the Miyelonians. That is the supreme goal of my entire life, and I am closer to achieving it than ever before! Human, if you help me achieve my heart’s desire, you will be generously rewarded. The title of viceroy of one or even both planets, the status of Krong of the whole Human race in the game. And, even more importantly, everyone in the galaxy will know you as my friend. That is the best defense you and your kind could ever hope for. No one would even dare glance sidelong in your direction!”

  Keetsie was speaking very convincingly. In fact, to be considered a close friend of the ruler of the Miyelonian race would be dependable protection against all kinds of filth such as Miyelonian space pirates, or any other brigands for that matter. But still I wanted to find out what might happen if I refused to help Keetsie with her political plans. I didn’t even manage to ask that out loud though. The Great One explained all on her own: