The Outlaw (Phantom Server: Book #2) (29 page)

Surrender control of the nanites to the external neuronet.

It all happened simultaneously: a blinding flash, the crackling sound of the unevenly heated metal and someone’s groan of disappointment.

The external neuronet has activated a surprise ability: Self-Sacrifice. You’ve lost 80,583 nanites. The enemy’s nanites have been neutralized.

Liori, clever girl!

The recharge mechanism clicked, sending a new micro nuclear battery clip into its slot and discarding the depleted units. They fell to the floor and rolled in all directions.

I swung round. My servodrives screeched. My armor was dropping flakes of rust.

Replication
, I sent a mental command while swiping my eyes over a large protruding piece of the gravity elevator I could use as source material.

“Kathryn? What do you think you’re doing?”

She stood half-turned to me, her armored suit enveloped in a thick scan-blocking veil of nanites.

“Kathryn!”

Slowly she turned round, surrounded by a swarm of incandescent vortices. Millions of nanites swirled around her, distorting the shape of her armor.

I knew this blood-curdling scene only too well.

I can’t tell you what I felt. This was Avatroid, as large as life and twice as ugly.

Had the girl existed at all? Who was it that we’d saved from the spiders’ stifling den? At the time, I had indeed thought it strange that the mobs had trussed her up and left her there without even trying to crack her technogenic shell and sample the sweet flesh.

Thoughts crowded my mind. Did that mean that all this time, we’d been followed by an automaton controlled by an ancient AI? Creating a character’s avatar wouldn’t be a problem for it, of course, but I’d love to know how it had managed to deceive us with such a believable facsimile of a girl’s behavior?

Kathryn is dead. Avatroid killed her and assimilated her mind expander,
Liori whispered bitterly.
This is the only possible explanation. Even I had no idea. Zander, Avatroid's here to get Genesis!

Our mental dialogue was only the backdrop to the action unfolding around us. In another blinding flash, a second molecular cloud whirled up into the air as my nanites replicated again. I granted Liori control of them: we had to remove the debuff from the other group members.

Who was Ingmud, then? Another ancient AI whose deformed mind had been overpowered by its human matrix? The opposite of Avatroid? Did that make us pawns on their Galaxy-sized chess board?

Without taking my eyes off the sinister technogenic monster, I repeated the nanite replication process.

A hoarse laughter rumbled in my earphones like far-off thunder. Foggs stirred weakly; Roakhmar awoke from his stupor as my nanobots had removed the debuff from him.

Avatroid wasn’t attacking yet. He was still incomplete, surrounded by a cloud of incandescent gas. Smoke billowed in all directions, sending gusts of hot wind across the cave.

* * *

The artifact’s force field faded slowly. Roakhmar had already jumped back to his feet, looking confused. To him, the spawn of evil materializing in front of us was part of their ancient cult – virtually an object of worship.

“Roakhmar, use your head!” I rolled toward the safety of a collapsed smoldering terminal and opened the common communications channel, forwarding them the information about this ancient monster.

I just hoped that both the Disciples and my own men who’d never had to deal with anything like this before would be smart enough to work out Avatroid’s nature. It combined a number of incompatible AI modules that used to belong to on-board systems of different spacecraft. Most of them had been damaged. The Outlaws had put this Frankenstein together with the sole objective of using it for what it was worth, then eliminating it.

You’re all going to die!
a synthetic voice rumbled through my mind, as if confirming my train of thought.

This was an insane monster possessing a wealth of ancient knowledge but torn by inner conflicts unknown to a machine. Many of his modules must have spent considerable periods of time in contact with human minds, carrying with them the imprints of somebody else’s frustrations, feelings and desires.

Even Roakhmar shrank back and nearly lost his footing, frightened of the ancient roar that rang with primeval greed.

Millions of nanites kept swarming around the monster's mechanical outline, forming various devices layer by layer, molecule by molecule.

It all happened much faster than words can tell.

In another flash, my nanites replicated again and immediately split up to liberate Vandal and the remaining Disciples from their Critical Failures. That was it, no more cooldown: I’d exhausted my Nanite Replication ability for the next twenty-four hours.

“Smoke the bastard!” Vandal’s voice was brimming with fury.

Foggs quickly put two and two together and ducked for cover. His Tesla gun began spitting short bursts of precision fire.

I opened fire too, but what was the point? Avatroid’s force field throbbed, deflecting white-hot slugs that dropped – no, dripped – to the floor. The monster’s mocking laughter rang in our ears. His nanobots kept creating new modules. He had grown considerably, his shoulders unnaturally broad. The nanites were using Kathryn’s armor suit to build something truly unprecedented.

“You worms!”
a bolt of lightning lashed out at the Disciples. Two of them used their personal force fields but the third one wasn’t as lucky. His squat figure filled with transparent fiery plasma, then crumbled to ashes.

A flash of nanites went for the nearest Disciple, leaving a smoky trail in its wake and bestowing three debuffs onto the unfortunate: System Failure, Critical Failure and Power Leak.

“Scorch his nanites!” Foggs yelled.

This technogenic golem was nearing completion with every second — which meant he was acquiring new and potentially deadly abilities.

Finally, Roakhmar came back to his senses. Although emotionally shattered, he was now ready to act.

“
Ischkharah!
” the familiar command echoed in the earphones.

Two plasma generators fired from opposite directions. Compressed by magnetic fields, clumps of ionized gas sliced through the gloom and exploded on impact with Avatroid’s force field, burning nanites and preventing them from finalizing their transformations.

The time of organic life forms is over!
Avatroid’s deafening roar rang with metal.
I will restore my creators’ technosphere!

“You were built by Outlaws,” I shouted at him.

By way of reply, he lashed my hideout with an electric charge. It cut right through the top of the terminal behind which I was hiding, its white-hot jagged edge breathing fire just above my head.

I darted to change cover.

“You flippin' freerider! Why did you have to jump on our bandwagon?” Vandal stood up and sent a long burst of fire his way – admittedly without much success. “If you’re too weak to get here by yourself, you should say so!”

Avatroid's reply was rather straightforward,

“I can’t materialize within the artifact’s force field. I always opt for the easiest way. Predictably, you’ve paved my way here.”

“Why do you need Genesis, anyway?” Foggs picked up on Vandal’s idea and took over from him, engaging the monstrous NPC in a dialogue.

“Because you won’t leave me alone! You keep messing everything up! You capture space stations and implant yourselves with neuronets! You destroy modules that are rightly mine! I can’t personally squash every one of the millions of sentient worms! These exo viruses will soon put an end to all of this!”

His growling was drowned out by the interference caused by a new plasma charge. The monster’s shields dropped to 10%.

Then he disappeared. My scanners didn’t see him!

Level 50 Steel Mist. I can’t do anything, sorry,
Liori wrote.

Roakhmar cast a desperate look around. Furious, he wanted to kick a discharged plasma generator out of his way.

“Don't disrespect your weapons!” Vandal yelled at him. He hurled at him the belt taken off one of the dead Dargians. “Destroy the artifact before it’s too late!”

I didn’t hear Roakhmar’s reply. Everything dissolved in a deafening rumble. Replication flashes merged into a wall of fire. The thick molecular clouds began disgorging combat drones.

* * *

Genesis' force field kept dwindling. The technology scanner control in my interface sprang back to life.

Changing positions, I managed to get closer to the artifact.

I ducked and ran for Roakhmar. The drones kept attacking us. Laser beams whooshed overhead. Molten metal splattered everywhere. Smoke swirled over smoldering organic remains.

Roakhmar was marked as
awaiting respawn
. A lethal wound gaped in his chest. I grabbed the force field control module with its still-highlighted command sequence pictograms. My own force shield throbbed, absorbing damage on its last set of micro nuclear batteries.

I ran toward the next cover and gasped, catching my breath. I tried to reactivate the force field by pressing the highlighted pictograms but their combinations were way too many.

Vandal and Foggs retreated toward the gravity elevator. I could hear explosions going off in that direction followed by showers of incandescent shrapnel.

“Zander, over here!” Vandal’s figure shimmered as he received a new level. “We need to get out of here! We won’t make it!”

I ran for my life. Torrents of coherent radiation sliced through the dark, leaving red-hot scars on my armor. I ducked under a massive bow-shaped gravity compensator support and fired back at the drone chasing me, slicing off its pylon launcher and shutting down its laser. Enveloped in a cloud of smoke, the mob banked and rammed into a bulkhead, disappearing in a wall of flames.

Where was the bastard now?

I activated Piercing Vision. No good.

Avatroid reappeared out of nowhere. His massive bulk loomed into view just next to the gravity elevator. I could see him; I peppered him with machine-gun fire but the bastard had already restored his shields!

A screech of servomotors; a swing of a mechanical arm; a blinding flash of plasma.

Vandal dropped his gun and sank to the floor.

With my last strength, I bolted toward him. Liori had spent all her nanites on removing the debuffs, so she couldn’t help us now.

Foggs cried out, threw his hands in the air and collapsed onto the ground. Status:
awaiting respawn
.

I used Disintegration on a conveniently passing drone. The close explosion pierced Avatroid's shield; his servomotors screeching, he swung round to face me. His movements were jerky but his abilities didn’t fail him. A Plasma Lash sliced through my armor.

The pain was mind-boggling. My legs gave under me. My head swam. We’d been pretty stupid thinking we could overpower him.

The cave’s ceiling shuddered. A web of fine cracks ran across it. Then it began to crumble. Jumbo chunks of rock came crashing down, squashing the segmented platforms and crumpling the framework. Fierce torrents of fire gushed through the openings – the flames of a spaceship’s planetary engines.

Images of various spacecraft flashed before my mind’s eye. Finally, one of them became highlighted in red.

That’s right. I’d seen it before. It had been drifting by the edge of the debris field near Wearong.

The merciless flames melted the ancient equipment as the spaceship restored by Avatroid moved toward the artifact, leaving destruction in its wake. Part of the platform on which Genesis rested broke off and crashed down, destroying whole floors of the tower in its fall. Still, the artifact hovered in place, supported by its built-in gravitech.

The ship switched to antigravity thrust and floated over me, opening the gates of its cargo hold. Its powerful manipulators reached out and closed on Genesis, clutching it tightly.

The force ramp slid out. A hatch opened. Two men hurried out and froze, awaiting their orders.

I was still trying to hold myself together. In one final effort I focused on their name tags,

Jyrd. Reincarnation 2/150

Khors. Reincarnation 3/150

“The time of biological life forms is over!” the dull angry voice reached from afar. “Forget your Oasis, worms! You’re too worthless to grasp where you are and what is about to happen!”

My mind faded.

The Planet Darg. The slave traders’ camp.

Respawn

T
he gloomy sky hung low.

I was cold. Gusts of wind tore at the tents, raising little tornadoes of dust. Jagged cliffs loomed gray in the bleak light of the early morning. The slave drivers’ drones patrolled the air, aiming their paralyzers in an arc.

I lay on the cold stone floor of a cramped cage. My legs were bound, my hands chained behind my back.

The translucent icons of my interface slowly materialized before my eyes.

Zander. Level 77. Pilot. Current status: Prisoner

My Physical Energy indicator hovered in the yellow sector. Most ability icons were highlighted in red.

You don’t have enough nanites or external sources of energy. Self-replication is not possible.

That wasn’t a problem though. Any of the patrolling drones would make excellent source material.

Quest update alert: Restoration of the Oasis.

Step 3: inform Ingmud of his daughter’s death.

Step 4 (unavailable for group participation). You now possess detailed scanner files of Genesis including the Founders’ databases, and its complete digital copy. Now you need to decide what to do with this unique information.

The icon of direct neurosensory contact with Liori was inactive.

Barely twenty-four hours in gaming time had elapsed but it felt like a lifetime.

Just above my Ability menu, three avatars were highlighted in my interface,

Foggs. Level 67. Warrior. Unconscious. Current status: Prisoner

Vandal. Level 65. Warrior. Unconscious. Current status: Prisoner.

Marcus Novitsky. Level 54. Exobiologist. Current status: Prisoner.

I opened the mnemonic chat. “Hi there, man.”

“Zander?” Novitsky sounded both happy and surprised. “Where are you?”

“I'm a prisoner at the moment, after a respawn. You okay?”

“Yeah,” he didn’t sound too convinced. I could detect vague images of his surroundings in the background of his messages.

“D’you think you can forward me your neuroimplant’s visuals?” I asked.

“I can try. I’m not in the camp though. They've taken us out this morning to clear some debris.”

A picture came slowly into view. I could see a rockfall blocking the familiar tunnel. “I want you to take a good look around you.”

I was right. I could see the edge of the platform that used to hold the scorched defense point. Four Dargians were working there, apparently trying to repair the damage.

Their force fields were down. Temporary power cables snaked around some mysterious parts of alien weapons.

“Zander, what do you want us to do?”

“How many people are there with you?”

“About thirty. All low level, I’m afraid. They didn’t get the chance to level up. Thanks for keeping me in the group.”

“Can you read the Dargians’ stats?”

“Mechanics, levels 40+.”

“Any armed guards?”

“None. Everyone but those four abandoned this location once it was shelled. The slavers pop by from time to time. So what is it you want us to do?” he repeated.

“Nothing for the time being. Keep your heads down and get on with hauling those rocks. We’ll get you out,” I assured him. “In the meantime, no good us attracting their attention. I’m happy you’re alive. I’ll keep you posted. Over and out.”

I lay there all trussed up staring at Darg’s ashen sky. Despite what I’d just said, I had neither the desire to escape from captivity so natural for a player, nor the equally natural desire to kick some Dargian slavers' butt in doing so.

What was wrong with me?

My Physical Energy indicator began to shrink for no reason whatsoever. My breathing seized even though no one had attacked me. It couldn’t be the Exhaustion debuff!

A respawned player was supposed to be angry and reenergized. Or was it the game engine recalculating the post effects of continuous metabolite overdose?

But what if Liori had been right? Could my in-mode capsule be playing up? I had no idea of whatever was going on in real life.

Avatroid’s words sprang to mind,

You’re too worthless to grasp where you are and what is about to happen!

I struggled to catch my breath and cast a look around. The bars of my cage were made of rusted finger-thick metal and concreted into the foundations. There was no way I could bend or work them loose.

I focused on a bar,

Durability: 110

Well, the local slave traders definitely hadn’t counted on having any Mnemotechs among their prisoners!

Calm down
, I told myself. Escaping wasn’t a problem. I could always create a fuss and smoke a dozen slavers. But what were we supposed to do next?

The image of a red-hot wire cutting through the bars of other cages appeared in my mind’s eye. What was that now? A new ability or my hyperactive imagination?

First things first. I had to check all the unread messages, distribute all the available XP points, learn the lay of the land and come up with a decent plan. I had to think well before I did anything crazy.

I opened my skill tab.

This implanted technology scanner had proven to be a very useful thing in combination with the Mnemotechnic skill. Once it had finished scanning Genesis, it switched to automatic data collection mode as we’d battled, considerably raising my Technologist skill and adding one of Avatroid’s abilities to its database.

New ability available: Plasma Lash. The scanning process has identified and analyzed a device scheme allowing you to form threads of nanites which self-destruct on impact releasing enough energy for instant phase transition to the fourth state of matter (plasma). A stroke of Plasma Lash slices through cargonite armor up to 0.4” thick.

The device’s original intended use: high-precision cutting of refractory metals. The Founders didn’t intend it for any other purpose. Would you like to add a combat module from the Technologists’ database to the scheme?

Yes! Yes, please!

New replication matrix available: Plasma Lash Generator. Once built, the device’s working range will (at your current ability level) be equal to 3 ft.

“Meditating?” Vandal’s rough voice broke into my thoughts. He’d respawned after his paralysis angry and determined to escape and show the Dargians who was the boss here.

“Low your voice, please. And keep an eye on Foggs, he might come round soon. Don’t start aggroing them without me, is that clear? I need to sort out my skills first and find out what they’ve done with our gear.”

“All right. Just make it quick, will ya? I don’t think I can wait much longer.”

I went back to my char’s stats. In mopping up the tower, I'd raised my Mnemotechnics skill up to level 20! How the hell had I done it? Surely my use of Disintegration and Differential Nanite Control couldn’t have caused it!

I found the answer in the logs. Apparently, I’d received XP for Liori’s use of her high-level abilities as we'd battled through.

Come to think of it, it was only logical. Her neuromatrix was only part of my Synaps implant.

I couldn’t help thinking where this unique development branch might take me. The girl I loved had gone digital – and we were seeing each other inside my own freakin’ mind!

A quiet ping added to my thoughts, informing me of the end of the twenty-four hour cooldown. The icon of the direct neurosensory contact lit up.

The air thickened, tousling my crew cut. Gently it touched my cheek.

I’m happy you’re back
, I thought.

This feels strange,
she chimed in.
This is my first normal respawn after I’ve transformed. Zander, I need some nanites really badly. At least nine colonies. The cybermodule is so cramped. I’d love to remember every moment and every experience but its neurochips just aren’t up to it. Will you help me? I’d love to be with you always, not just for 60 minutes every 24 hours!

I lay there bound hand and foot, my arms and legs numb, but with a smile wandering across my lips.

I will, only later. Nanite replication will attract attention.

‘Mind if I do it?
Liori asked.
I’ll be quiet, I promise.

That got me curious.
Go ahead, then.

Silence fell, followed by a message,

The external neuronet has used a surprise ability: The Call.

I saw the air thicken with the flow of nanites coming out of a squat barrack-like building.

So that’s where they kept my damaged gear, then?

You have received 87,000 nanites. Warning! The colonies are fragmented. Their numbers need to be restored.

I bet they did. Avatroid had done a nice job on me.

The next moment, my mind blurred. I very nearly snuffed it. My Physical Energy levels dropped to 5%. In the absence of metabolites I had nothing to counter the Lethal Exhaustion debuff with. My life bar began to shrink.

Zander, are you okay? What’s going on? Talk to me!
Liori’s anxious voice brought me back to reality.

I’ll manage,
I croaked, switching my metabolic implant to overdrive.

What had the game developers been thinking of? If the Mnemotechnics skill could be potentially dangerous, why introduce it at all? There wasn't even some fine print anywhere telling you about the price you might have to pay for your new superhuman abilities, considering the local authenticity levels!

I caught my breath. It felt a bit better.

Zander, I’m afraid you’ll have to materialize me,
Liori’s voice rang with anxiety.
Your body – I mean your real physical body – can’t sustain two consciousnesses. You’re breaking under pressure! Let go of me, please!

“I won’t.”

Don’t you understand you may die? Die for real? All I need is a heavy gear kit, a few nanites and some available energy. The rest I can do!

“No,” I snapped. “That’s out of the question.”

I imagined a new Avatroid being born of my cybermodule and a heavy suit. “Liori, we can find another way.”

There is no other way!

“How d’you know?”

Because that was my job! I had to seek out neuronets and study nanite control. Don’t forget I used to work for the Corporation. I leveled up both Piloting and Mnemotechnics. That was exhausting but not as bad as you are now!

“I prefer the in-mode malfunction scenario,” I mouthed faintly.

Three Dargians stopped opposite my cage, talking quietly. The disgusting antennae framing their agile mouths twitched as they spoke. A combat drone hovered over their heads.

I activated Differential Nanite Control and Piercing Vision.

There must have been at least fifty slavers in the camp, levels 30 to 40. I could manage, provided I used all my skills but – I glanced over to the figures of the Eurasia players huddled in their cages – I couldn’t count on any extra help. This was hopeless. Players levels 7 to 10, crushed by the realism of their experiences.

I forwarded the data to Vandal and the recovering Foggs, adding the file of my conversation with Novitsky.

“Listen guys, it looks like we’re in it alone. Don't be surprised by anything you see. I’m going to create a new unusual combat shape for my nanites.”

“When do we start?” Vandal demanded. All he was interested in was exacting immediate and terrible revenge.

“Couple of minutes. I still have something to do.”

“We’re chained,” Foggs reminded me. “And the cages are locked.”

“I’ll sort it out. You wait. We’re lucky they’re not into slave collars here.”

Liori didn’t argue any more. We maintained direct neurosensory contact so she could understand my idea well.

I reopened the stats tab. I had forty-two available points. I invested twenty into Stamina and another ten into Strength. I just hoped that the increase in Physical Energy and hit points would temporarily protect me from any deadly debuffs.

Now, the skills. Whatever I did now couldn’t be undone later. I realized that well, so I only invested in Replication, Disintegration and Object Replication. As for Piercing Vision and Steel Mist, Liori had a good grasp of them.

Now. My advance in Mnemotechnics had opened System Failure and Breakdown: two of the most useful control debuffs indispensable against cyber mobs and enemies clad in techno gear. I invested two points into each.