Start the Game (Galactogon: Book #1) (38 page)

“Alright, let’s assume you’re right. How am I supposed to use this information? Where is room number one? Two? Three? How do I ‘press’ the number I need?”

“I have no idea,” the girl admitted sincerely. “You wandered through the level so chaotically that you must’ve entered some kind of combination strictly by chance. But nothing happened. It follows that you have to do something in the rooms. But
what
exactly—is already a question for you to answer.”

“What do you say, Stan?” I asked my second brain.

“Eunice’s hypothesis is plausible. Considering the layout of this level, the common hallway that connects all of rooms, and the small circles that may be found on the floor of the rooms, the conclusion that there is a gigantic communicator here makes sense. However, there is one detail you and Eunice have overlooked—there is a circle in the common hallway as well.”

“What circle?” Eunice and I said almost simultaneously.

“I will show it on the screen. As we know, each room and hallway has a small circle, about twenty inches wide. The circles’ locations correspond to the intersections of virtual diagonals. In the common hallway, the circle is located at the far wall without any regard to the overarching geometry formed by the placement of the circles in the rest of the level. The circle in the common hallway stands out from the floor by virtue of a darker shade of paint, which makes it basically invisible in the Labyrinth’s low lighting. If we follow Eunice’s hypothesis, we may conclude that the circles are all buttons corresponding to different number values. And the call button itself is located in the common hallway. I can calculate no other possible solutions at the moment.”

“So all we have to figure out now is where the beginning of this convoluted keypad is located,” mused Eunice.

“That’s actually the easiest thing to solve,” I realized. “All the rooms are linked together sequentially. Consequently, we assign ‘1’ to a room, and use it to calculate the other digits. Then we make the call. If it doesn’t go through, we’ll assign ‘1’ to the next room and repeat the operation.
Yalrock
’s number only has thirty digits. The level has ten rooms—in a few hours I’ll be able to go through all the combinations. Then I’ll keep my klamir!”

I was a little off in my estimate. It took me an entire hour to walk through thirty rooms in the correct sequence and finally press the “call” button. That was just for one call! After waiting a couple minutes to make sure that there really was no result, I switched to the next room-sequence in my PDA and began entering the next call. If Eunice’s theory was correct, it would take me no more than ten hours to try every possible combination. If, on the other hand, she was wrong…Well, I didn’t even want to entertain that possibility.

Secrets found: 4 of 4 on this level.

You have gained access to the stationary communicator.

I almost jumped, seeing the notification that popped up after my fourth run through. It was that unexpected. I was already beginning to doubt Eunice, since I’d gotten no response to the first three “dials.” And here suddenly I was granted access to the stationary communicator! Please, please let it be Braniac!

“
Delranos keltake ugranda de
!” said a man’s voice from the wall beside me as soon as the notification had faded. It looked like the speaker and mic had been built right into the wall. I was not familiar with the language being spoken by whatever creature was on the other end. He could’ve been a Delvian or an Anorxian or even some Zatrathi—cleaning toilets on the very station I’d recently escaped from. Surely the devs had furnished them with the same means of communication as the rest of
Galactogon
.

“This is Surgeon, captain of
Yalrock
!” I said, checking to see if I could be heard. It’d be a heck of a thing if I’d finally reach Braniac only to discover myself unable to actually tell him anything.

“Qualian?” the man on the other end asked in a language my character understood. “How did you get this number? Who gave it to you?”

“I repeat, my name is Surgeon. I am the captain of the ship
Yalrock
. I dialed your number entirely by accident. Whom do I have the pleasure of speaking with?”

“My name is Grandar. I am the junior advisor to the deputy weeding assistant to the gardener of the Third Palace of his Imperial Highness, the Emperor of the Precian Empire (hallowed be his persona). Please do not call this number again, as I have not the time to speak with various…”

“Wait!” I yelled, before Grandar could hang up. “I have information about the kidnapped prince! I know where Rrgord is being held! I know why the Qualian prince died!”

“WHAT?!” curiosity reared in the voice of the twelfth advisor. “Speak! I need to know this information urgently!”

Uh-huh. Allow me to fall all over myself to tell you. I’m being persecuted by a Precian general who’s taken my
Yalrock
and stranded me inside “my own personal hell,” and I’m going to give this random gardener’s assistant this info for nothing? Thanks but no thanks.

“Grandar, you have,” I glanced at my PDA, “three hours to find someone authorized to negotiate for this information. I will call you back in exactly three hours and I beg you—make sure that whoever’s beside you at that time is someone who is capable of making serious decisions. Not some advisor to the junior deputy et cetera et cetera. The information that I have is much too serious to be disclosed to unauthorized parties. Do you understand me? Three hours! If in three hours you don’t find someone, then I will publicize what I know about Rrgord to all of
Galactogon
. And trust me, your boss won’t like that one bit. Three hours!”

Without giving Grandar a chance to respond, I stepped out of the “call” circle. Funny how things worked out. I had unwittingly managed to contact someone from the Precian Emperor’s administration. I now had an ever so slight chance to save
Yalrock
. Just over ten hours remained until the Precians could take control of it, so I decided to use the next three hours in finding the number to the ship. If Grandar produced another deputy to a junior advisor, I’d have nothing to say to him. I wasn’t about to surrender my info about Rrgord for free. War between the Precians and the Qualians didn’t bother me one bit. All I cared about was gaining access to the Precian prince’s ship.

“This is the command circuit for the klamir
Yalrock
.”

“Braniac is that you?” I yelped joyously, having entered the next sequence of buttons.

“Boss?” the computer asked with surprise. “Why are you calling from an unknown number?”

“Braniac, they’ve taken away my comm. Block it before it’s too late.”

“I am sorry but I am unable to fulfill your request. The current comm number is not registered in my database. I am therefore unable to execute any orders issued from it. Be advised that the previous comm has already been blocked. I received a command from it to provide full access to protected system resources from it—in contradiction to my earlier instructions.”

“Braniac, how can I prove to you that I am me?”

“That is an invalid question. You are by definition you.”

“Okay, how do I prove to you that I am the captain of
Yalrock
?”

“You must import data about the current communications device into the ship’s internal database for authorized command numbers. You may do this only from the captain’s deck inside the ship…”

“Braniac!” I yelled wrathfully. “Have you lost the plot? What captain’s deck? We don’t even have a captain’s deck!”

“If you continue your aggressive conduct, your number will be blocked,” the computer rebuked me. “Access to the ship’s configuration is possible only from the captain’s deck. The area that you (if you really are Surgeon) piloted the ship from is called the captain’s deck.”

“Braniac,” I explained slowly, trying my best not to raise my voice, “if you don’t activate the self-destruct procedure in seven hours, the Precians will assume control over you and they will do whatever they feel like with the ship. You have only seven hours! I need you to activate the self-destruct and return to Blood Island. Understand that I really don’t want this…”

“I cannot accept a self-destruct order from an unregistered number,” rattled Braniac. “Your number will now be blocked. Have a good day!”

The call dropped. It took all I had to keep myself from slamming my mighty fist into the paltry wall and thereby breaking the communicator to pieces. I needed to talk to Grandar. But how about that Braniac, huh?! A real digital bitch. I told him in natural language—blow yourself up! Why wouldn’t he listen to me? If I managed to retain possession of
Yalrock
, I would do such a number on that stubborn, brainless tin can…

“Surgeon?” Grandar’s tinny, deferential tone was so sharply different from earlier that I was stumped momentarily. Why the change all of a sudden?

“That is correct. Did you find someone who can make decisions?”

“Is the Emperor of the Precian Empire enough of an authority to make important decisions, as you say?” said a voice so authoritative and powerful that I unwittingly straightened to attention.

“Absolutely, your imperialness,” I retorted, mentally giving Grandar a grade of “Excellent.” I had no idea how the junior advisor to the deputy weeding assistant to the gardener of the Third Palace managed to reach the emperor himself, but the fact remained—I was speaking with the head Precian. In
Galactogon
, this was not a joking matter.

“Why could I not reach you on your number earlier?” The emperor instantly went on the attack.

“Because this is not my number. At the moment, I am on the planet Vozban in the Gantanil-3 System. I was forced to flee here from the Zatrathi station where I witnessed the death of the Qualian prince. The general in charge of Vozban killed me and is planning on taking my ship, despite me telling him that I have information concerning the abducted princes.”

“You are calling from the Labyrinth?” the emperor showed his familiarity with the game. “What level?”

“The eighteenth,” I replied, trying to conceal my surprise.

“You said that the Qualian prince was murdered. By whom? The Zatrathi?”

“No your imperialness. Rrgord killed him.”

I could hear Grandar gasp in surprise and this was followed by silence descending on the other end of the comm.

“Who else witnessed this?” the emperor asked at last.

“The other ten princes and princesses. They were all there when it happened.”

“Why did Rrgord kill the Qualian?” Despite the fact that the emperor’s voice was authoritative and neutral, I could hear a barely concealed irritation in it.

“Because I told him that the KRIEG had been built.”

“WHAT?!” roared the Precian and I thanked my lucky stars that I was in a different place. He sounded like he could’ve killed me. “How do you know this?”

“Two months ago, I was an ordinary recruit in the Qualian Training Sector…”

Over the next hour I told the emperor (who kept interrupting me to ask various questions) about how I learned about the KRIEG’s creation. How I was thrown in solitary, how I exchanged knocks with the unknown creature, how I told Rrgord about the KRIEG, and how he destroyed the Qualian prince—throwing him past the boundaries established by the Zatrathi. It didn’t make sense to keep this information from the emperor—you don’t haggle with locals of his stature. Either you get an imperial reward or you get an imperial kick in the butt (one that’ll send you flying clear across all of
Galactogon
).

“Remain on the eighteenth level,” the emperor ordered, once my testimony and his cross-examination came to an end. “In three hours, someone will come for you. Do you have any other requests of me?”

“Yes, three,” I decided.

“Speak.” It sounded like the emperor had furrowed his brow, since the static in the comm suddenly vanished. There are not many who would venture to ask an emperor for a favor.

“I don’t know who Grandar is or what he does, but if it weren’t for him, we would not have been able to speak. I have no idea how a Precian of his level managed an audience with your imperialness, but his effort is worthy of praise and a reward. I ask that you treat him graciously and generously.”

“That’s your first request?” the emperor asked surprised. “You ask a favor not for yourself but for a Precian you do not know?”

“If I get my ship back, then I’ll need little else in this life. I am trying to acquire what I want on my own.”

“This is worthy of praise. Your ship is your second request?”

“Yes. At the moment it is in orbit around Vozban. In seven hours, the Precian Empire will take control of it. I really do not want to lose it.”

“The ship will remain yours. You have the word of an emperor. What is your third request?”

“Rrgord gave me the access key to the capital system. I would like to receive your personal permission to explore one of Zalva’s three moons.”

“One of the moons?” the emperor asked surprised. “For what?”

“According to my information, there is an Uldan base located on it.”