In search of the uldans, p.20
In Search of the Uldans, page 20
part #2 of Galactogon Series
“Let’s do the mines,” I ordered the engineer as the star lines outside the porthole turned to points again. We had emerged from hyperspace. The dispatcher came on the air:
“Orbship Warlock, welcome to the Belket system. Access to the trading planet has been granted. Would you like permission to land?”
Security in the Belket system was provided by three Grand Arbiters, spread out at different ends of the system. Against the background of these colossi, the players’ gigantic cruisers seemed like minnows. It was true that an upgraded Grand Arbiter wasn’t the size of a Zatrathi orbital station, but working together, the three could put up more than a decent fight. Considering that the Delvians had the same monsters, it was even scary to imagine the meat grinder that would unfold in two days. The invaders would have to first take down the Arbiters, and I doubted that those would go quietly into the night. It would be a great battle and I had no desire whatsoever to be there.
The Emperor’s whim outweighed my pirate’s fame and I was offered a dock from the first hundred. The berth intended for the nobility was located not far from Belket’s cultural and commercial center, a few kilometers from the Hansa Corp’s HQ. Perhaps in granting me this VIP dock, the Precians were simply limiting the time I would spend on their planet.
The landing was successful. The local customs officers formally checked the ship, without even glancing into my hold. Instead of an inspection, there was a brief interrogation. They frowned disapprovingly, clicked their tongues as they passed the Qualian and proudly withdrew from my ship. Before I could even set foot on the dock, giant transport robots that worked as taxis and porters flew up to me. For a certain amount, they were ready to deliver me to any part of the planet and take care of any unloading and loading.
The temptation to take a VIP taxi was great. And no wonder—an enormous flying saucer with a pool, a bar and a lounge—yet the fog of temptation cleared as soon as I heard the price: The two kilometers to the Hansa HQ would cost me 100,000 GC. Spare change to vain bastards who loved luxury and comfort. And on top of this I was forced to all but beat this quote out of the driver—the Precian pretended that he didn’t speak the common tongue and had no idea what I was asking. He smiled and nodded like a dummy, inviting me to board the flying saucer. Only the threat of contacting the spaceport administration miraculously taught the driver the common language and made him name his price. One hundred thousand credits for ten seconds of flight is worse than cabbies in meatspace!
Having wished him to take an erotic journey, I set out for the Hansa HQ on foot. The two kilometers, half of which I traveled on a moving walkway, were a cakewalk. The pedestrian zones on Belket were well developed, which I put down to the cost of transport services. Players and locals alike scurried about me, deftly maneuvering in the intense flow. Valorous guards looked on, keeping order. They looked out for troublemakers and pulled them out of the crowd by air for further proceedings. Nothing should impair other creatures from spending money. Such are the laws of a trade planet.
The Precian arms manufacturer occupied a fairly large area, surrounded by a high stone wall, a sort of tribute to antiquity and the ultramodern. An opaque force field covered the Hansa HQ, protecting it from anyone who wanted to peek in from above. To get to the main building, it was necessary to go through the guard post, presenting a pass, bypass the alley and climb the high and long stairs—a good hundred steps.
I was beginning my ascent when a voice hailed me from above.
“Captain Surgeon!” An elderly man slowly descended to meet me. A player. The wind flapped his cloak, giving him the appearance of a superhero from the ancient comics. The old man had nothing on him—no armor suit, no weapon, no personal shield—nothing but a short name. Mr. Eine.
“You have kept one vaiting, Herr Kapitan,” the old man said in a German accent and with grave displeasure in his voice. “You vere not pleased by ze Taxi I sent for you? You decided to take a Spaziergang—a vat do you call it—a shtroll—ja?”
“I simply decided not be taken for a hundred thousand credits,” I replied, examining my interlocutor: a neat trimmed beard, dry tanned skin, piercing blue eyes, a square face with high cheekbones. Once upon a time the Aryans sought to breed a paragon of their people and they could have used Mr. Eine as their model. He’d do for a fine Aryan portrait too and I even wondered if his appearance in-game matched his real one—this avatar was just a little too, uh, exact. In real life, people like this tended to attract lots of attention. I am not a big fan of show business or a subscriber to image feeds, yet I still don’t recall ever seeing such a handsome man.
“Ze Idea vas I pay for you. It vas ein Gift,” the sarcasm seeped from Eine. But he went on seriously: “Your Leisure has disrupted my Plans. I vas forced to cancel an important Meeting. By your Fault.”
“I cannot say I’m sorry—but I have to go.” It took a couple of phrases for me to form a sufficient impression of Eine. A dealer whose only priority was his personal desires. Mentally, I christened him ‘Herr Huckster.’
“There is a Misunderstanding, Herr Panzer. I wished to shpeak vit you right now. I have twenty thousand Credits and the Desire to give them to you for speaking with me. Twenty thousand real Credits vill be yours if you can spend half an Hour talking with me. Die Hansawaffengesellschaft is not going anywhere, yet my Money vill stay vit me if you refuse.”
I couldn’t help but grow tense. This person knew my real name and seemed to know my financial situation—why else bring up IRL money?
A now-familiar taxi descended from above. Eine scurried aboard deftly, inviting me to follow him. I hesitated for a moment. In principle, the Aryan couldn’t do me any harm. I could self-destruct at any moment and respawn back on Blood Island. Brainiac can fly Warlock back there on his own. I might lose some armor and whatever’s in my cargo hold. Damn, I’d be sorry to lose the armor though. And yet I really wanted to find out what the old man wanted with me. The meeting was supposed to be interesting, considering that this was the game’s biggest collector. He hadn’t been too lazy to do his due diligence about me. For twenty thousand real credits, I could hear him out. I followed after him and the taxi zoomed off with us.
“Have a Seat, please,” Eine said like a welcoming host, pointing to an armchair. He himself sat on a modest stool, his hands on his knees. “I do not have ze habit of going here and zere, I prefer to do Business. Vould you like a Drink? Come, come, do not deny yourself ze Pleasure. I have heard so much about you during ze past two Weeks. Every Time ze Story is more interesting. One does not know vat is ze truth and vat is Fiction. I have heard about your Adventures and now vould like an Insight into ze real Truth. You own two ZPEF-Manipulators, an Orbship mit a full Crew, a Planet and various Missions. You have been to ze Uldan base and ze Training Sector Jail. I vould like to know how you acquired all of zis. I understand that you vant payment for ze information. I have twenty thousand Credits for confirming my Searches. Vat do you have to say to zat?”
Of the list enumerated by the old man, only the manipulators really got my attention. Why would Eine mention them? Making a note of this, I began to test the waters.
“Herr Eine, I will speak openly as you do. I do not like this whole situation. Imagine yourself in my position. Suddenly, a person appears who knows my name, my financial situation and the details of my in-game accomplishments. Now he wishes to pay me for information. Experience tells me that I should run away as quickly as I can and have nothing more to do with you. What do you have to say to zat?”
“You have ze right reservations,” the old man smiled. “I have not been sufficiently politic. No, I mean, courteous. Not sufficiently courteous. I vish to dispel your Fears. I learned your Name in ze official Game Portal. Such is ze Game’s User Agreement. Galactogon has seventy-two Players named Surgeon and you are in zis List. I speak vit ze others, but zey do not understand. I search further. I consider ze possibility zat you are an employee of ze Galactogon Corporation. I make official Request and receive no Answer. You are a regular Player, yet you receive vat others do not. This is ze Source of my Interest. As for your ‘Financial Situation’—I do not know to vat you refer. Everyone vants Money. It is simple.”
“Stan?” Wasting no time, I had my home AI double-check the data.
“I confirm the information.” It took Stan just a couple of seconds to verify what Eine had told me. My name and occupation were indeed available in public sources. “All this can be obtained quite easily.”
“You told me how you discovered my name. But this does not explain where you got the details about my game history.”
“Zis is very easy. Information about ze Manipulator and ze Planet I receive from an informant on ze Cruiser Alexandria. Kapitan Kiddo vas very helpful. Information about your orbship and ze Uldan Base, I received from ze Adviser to ze Precian Emperor. I have very positive Relationships with all ze Empires. I am one who values meine Name. I am not one to get involved in dubious Business, Herr Panzer. Does zis satisfy your Curiosity?”
It all sounded so plausible that the one thing I was sure of was that this old man was lying! I just wasn’t sure about what exactly. My desire to talk to him further left me completely. The less you talk, the richer you’ll become.
“Just a second,” I muted my suit’s PA and called Kiddo on a private line.
“Yeah, what of it? I sold Eine the tip about your pacifiers. Sent him a video too,” the pirate confirmed. “I’ve had a business relationship with him for a long time. And don’t go playing the victim—you sell valuable information left and right. You never said you wanted me to keep your info confidential, so I didn’t even break a promise, much less violated a deal. Anyway, as your personal pirate, I advise you to work with him. He comes in handy.”
Again those manipulators. Why is everyone so obsessed with them? They seem completely ordinary. As for Marina, she had confirmed my fears at her own expense. I really needed to put a damper on my relations with her.
“Frau Kiddo has confirmed vat I say? I am not a lover of foul Play,” Eine accurately guessed whom I had called. Or could it be that Kiddo had already told him?
“Yes she did. But I am more interested in your mention of the manipulators. Why are you interested in them?”
“Herr Alexis, ze Players are not allowed to use zis Device. Galactogon prohibits Players to use ZPEF-Manipulators. It is a Rule set in Stone. Yet ze exception made in your Case, attracts my Attention. I vish to understand ze Reason. I have seen ze Video of you receiving ze Manipulators, but it is another Riddle. It is not possible. Vatch for yourself.”
Eine showed me a compilation. I watched as, again and again, various players tried to acquire the manipulators. There were fights, riot police in the training sector, even an attempt to seize hostages. Brainiac counted thirty attempts and they all failed—with the exception of mine.
Eine had studied and reproduced everything to the smallest detail in my ‘feat,’ but he lacked one factor: Being a pawn in a game between two very bored, very wealthy men. What could I tell this ‘poor’ collector? That I had received the manipulators as a reward for showing ingenuity and initiative? I had better keep quiet about that.
“Now that you have seen ze Information, I have a Qvestion. I vould like to know how you managed to receive these Items. I am prepared to pay you twenty thousand Credits.”
“That information is worth more than that. I am ready to provide you videos of all my raids for ten million IRL credits. You will see my audience with the emperor, how I acquired my orbship, how I recruited my crew and, in case you are still unaware of it, my recent raid on the Zatrathi flying fortress and my capture of the Zatrathi scout.” I remembered Stan’s description of the collector perfectly well. The old man did not mind getting unique information for pennies on the credit and pretended to be doing me a favor.
“You are talking about a terrible Amount!” Eine cried. “You must forget that ve are in a Game. Zis is not ze real World!”
“You’re right. We’re in Galactogon, not reality. That’s precisely why I quoted you such a low amount. Only ten million. But I can sweeten the deal. This spear here was once part of the Uldan base. I was forced to fashion it to defend myself from the Vraxis warriors. There are none like it in the game and there never will be. I am also prepared to hand over an engineer from the Zatrathi flying fortress. This creature is also unique in its own way, because before me no one had taken one prisoner.”
“I vant your Orbship. Ten million is a large Amount for some Pixels. I vant to receive something substantial.”
“The orbship is not for sale,” I snapped. “I can grant you temporary access to the ship, give you a tour of her, show you how she is arranged, but I will not part with my ship under any conditions. If this does not suit you, our conversation ends here and now.”
“A Lease perhaps? I vill pay five hundred thousand Credits. You have ze Opportunity to sell me everything you say.”
“No! No leases. I agree that ten million is too much, but I will not go any lower than nine. Are we done here?”
“I vish merely to receive a decent Produkt for my Money,” Eine reddened and began to tremble. “I vant to pay real Money for a virtual Record in ze Database. You must understand and should take my Offer. A million Credits! I have ze shtrong Opinion that zis should be enough!”
“You are mistaken,” I sighed eloquently. “You are not paying for a virtual record in a database so much as for the satisfaction of your curiosity. It is a pleasure to have unique knowledge and items, even if they aren’t real. And pleasures are always expensive.”
“Wenn it comes to Pleasure, for nine million real Credits, I expect to die of Ecstasy and go to Heaven too, Kapitan Surgeon!”
“I wouldn’t guarantee it but anything’s possible!”
We ended up agreeing on seven million, although it was exhausting for both of us. Eine would only raise his price by five hundred thousand, each time swearing that this was his final offer and he would not go any higher. I was able to resist only thanks to my experience negotiating in Runlustia.
As soon as we shook hands, things took off at a hectic pace: Stan confirmed the receipt of Eine’s payment, while Brainiac reported an access request. Having made a final decision, Eine acted swiftly like a true businessman. Our deluxe taxi hovered down next to Warlock, where the collector’s people were already waiting to pick up the Zatrathi engineer and start examining the orbship. I didn’t mind handing over the alien one bit, provided that they would send me their report as agreed. I had no desire to rummage around the slug myself. I handed over the promised videos and the Uldan spear. The collector also begged out the Zatrathi armor suit from the derelict scout. Eine didn’t have such a device yet and I didn’t mind making a graceful gesture at a cost of ten thousand game credits.
“Vill I be able to help you further in your Game?” The collector offered to finish our conversation on the ride back to the Hansa HQ.
“Actually, yes,” I said after a little thought. “Do you know where I could find a device that will convert Uldan coordinates into ours?”
“You have Information about a secret Location?” Eine began to pry.
I briefly explained the message from the Uldan survivor on the walls of the base. Eine’s people would comb through all the videos frame by frame anyway, but I wouldn’t sell this mission and warned the old man accordingly. Eine agreed that our deal only extended to already completed missions and try to launch into a new round of bargaining. But I was no longer interested. I asked Brainiac to remove the frames that showed the first half of the coordinates from my videos. The possibility of getting something worth quite a deal more than a few credits was too great. Besides, the eleven million I had made today would feed and pay my medical costs for the next year.
“I have Information about ze Owner of such a Device. However, I see a big Problem. I do not have the ability to access ze Device. The owner of ze system where ze Device is located is not my Friend.”
“Is he a player?”
“Nein. Not a Player. He is an NPC. Ze Jolly Roger—ze Corsican.”
“Do you think Captain Kiddo could help me get to it?” I ventured and immediately bit my tongue—I had said too much.
“Nein again. Marina is ze Corsican’s right Hand, but she does not have access to ze System. No Player in Galactogon knows ze Coordinates to ze Corsican’s System. Zis is a big Problem.”
“In that case, we’ll deal with this later. I do indeed have the Uldan coordinates but until I complete a pirate mission, the way to the Corsican remains closed to me.”
“Vat is zis Pirate Mission? Must you shoot down Ships, ja? Rob and plunder zem?”
“Nah just shoot them down. A lot of ships. I still have about a hundred more fighters or scouts to go. I could of course destroy nine cruisers instead, but after the latest update…Fuggedaboutit!”
