Virtual War: Alpha Centauri (A LitRPG Novel) Read online

  Speaking of which, it was definitely time to sleep. His head throbbing from the Irian alcohol, he lay himself down on the board table and killed the projection. He would’ve give his left arm for a cup of water, but it couldn’t be helped. He drifted to sleep with an echo of Avari’s relentless insect chirp in his ears.

  Unsurprisingly, Talbot once again woke up tired. A chorus of stern voices in his mind scolded him for not taking the more conservative option - a shuttle back to the Aurora, a steaming hot shower, a mug of hot chocolate, a movie and perhaps a little casual sex. He could’ve at the very least tried to be nice to Laura.

  All of those things might’ve soothed his weary mind and prepared him for eight hours sleep in his warm bed. As it was, he woke on a hard Irian briefing table with an acrid smell in his nostrils. It was just the cleaning gas the Irians routinely pumped through the Terangdor, but it made him feel ill. Especially on an empty stomach.

  And yet, Talbot’s belligerent streak was content. There was something primal, almost spiritual about keeping a lone vigil in alien territory. After all, he was still at war. Behind enemy lines. He wasted no time in finding a locker room in which to relieve himself. A pair of Irian soldiers looked at him coldly as he went about his business. Out of pure spite, he lingered as long as he could without being physically assaulted. He studied himself in the curved chrome that passed for a mirror - he looked like shit. Good. Life was about to get uncomfortable on Silvano and he wanted to arrive as if he’d been sleeping there for days.

  The hangar bay was steadily filling with prim, sober Irians. Talbot received a spawn request map on his wrist pad and he selected the old alien reservoir without hesitation. His logic was simple - with such a small army, the Terrans were toast if they were caught out in the open. At least on the reservoir they had recourse to the dam wall or other infrastructure that could be used as cover.

  Talbot had just confirmed his choice when the remnants of his virtual army marched in under armed escort. Things had definitely become tense now the battle for Alpha Centauri was in its final phase. Irian sentries had been posted along the walls. The hangar floor seemed to be under heavy surveillance.

  Talbot made a beeline for Wilkes, who looked at him with a mixture of wonder and pity.

  “Where’s Terran High Command?” Talbot asked.

  Wilkes smiled grimly. “The Terangdor could be an ugly place, whatever the result. The security risk was deemed too great. You could say that relations between Terrans and Irians are a little strained at the moment.”

  In fact, the observation decks, so full of eager onlookers on day one, were now troublingly empty.

  “The Irians want to wrap this up,” Talbot said in a cynical tone.

  “Wrap it up, claim the system and kick us out of their fucking territory,” Wilkes added.

  “I heard there’s more than one colonization pod ready to be deployed,” Talbot said bitterly.

  The paltry Terran group assumed their positions by the Immersion tanks. Including Talbot, thirteen soldiers. Laura seemed determined not to look at Talbot at all. The empty space where Quantum usually stood seemed like a gulf. Talbot felt his loss more keenly than he had the entire commando unit. The old engineer had been crucial in producing tools and weapons from his workbench / forge. Someone else would need to step up to the plate on Silvano.

  The Irian pixel runners filed into the hangar without fanfare. Forty-five enemy troops, well rested and focused. Ashby stood opposite Talbot with his hands clasped rigidly behind his back. This time he didn’t look at Talbot, instead gazing straight ahead with dead eyes. There was a primal violence about that look, a look calculated to intimidate.

  At that moment Talbot realized his decision to stay on board the Terangdor was a good one. It had turned him into an animal, immune to the more complex frailties of human emotion. Right then he was a bona fide savage. As he waited for Irian technicians to prepare the glowing tanks, he pictured all the alien blood he was about to spill. There was a brisk, brutal efficiency about the day that suited his mood. No speeches, no politics. Just the harsh reality of the game.

  Talbot’s technician gave him a thumbs-up and the Terran pounced on the ladder. Talbot spotted a bag of nuts nestled in the technician’s kit bag and took a handful. Delicious, they went some way to removing the ferocious hunger in his belly.

  Undressed, Talbot let himself sink to the bottom of the tank, where he waited impatiently for the start of play. ‘Go’ lights appeared on all the nearby tanks. Talbot watched Laura’s indistinct form on the other side of the aisle as everything went deliciously black. It was time to fight. Or die.

  22

  Talbot materialized alongside his comrades on the sloping surface of a dry reservoir - exactly where he had intended. He and Wilkes drew their assault rifles, but the reservoir was empty and quiet. A hawk cried somewhere in the distance. Ashby and his crew had clearly decided not to spawn in this location. Talbot breathed out, realizing how much he’d been dreading this moment.

  “Look at those peaks,” Fielding murmured, nocs on the surrounding terrain. Jagged, snow-capped peaks reached for the sky in all directions except the south. The view that way was blocked by a massive, charcoal-grey dam wall etched with florid designs. The structure was both elegant and practical.

  “Amazing,” Wilkes said, drinking it all in. “Those aliens sure had a sense of scale.”

  Talbot cast an eye over his crew. Ten engineers, Wilkes, Fielding and himself. One scout, one commando. It wasn’t good for his mental state to dwell on the numbers.

  “Sir,” Sanger said. She was the hydrologist who’d excelled herself on Avari. “There must be a pump station or something similar near here.”

  “I like your thinking,” Talbot said. “Let’s go find out.”

  The crew made their way to the western edge of the reservoir. The air was crisp and fresh, but bitingly cold.

  “Over there,” Fielding said, spotting the outline of a door in the dam wall. The feature was ten yards shy of the curved wall’s western terminus.

  “Watertight maintenance hatch,” Sanger said.

  “Wilkes - you go first,” Talbot said. Assault rifle poised, the commando disappeared into the darkness. Talbot followed second, wrinkling his nose at the stale smell. At first he couldn’t see anything, but Wilkes found a switch. They stood in a narrow tunnel running further west. The passage had been carved from the rock of the mountain, but it was the polished finish that caught Talbot’s untrained eye. The switch Wilkes had used was a transparent cube set back into the rock.

  “Serious technology,” Wilkes commented. “A highly advanced society.”

  “Wonder what happened to them? This planet seems habitable to me, if a little cold.”

  The pair encountered what appeared to be a dead end.

  “That platform moves, I’m sure of it,” Wilkes said. “Allow me to be your guinea pig, sir.”

  “Go ahead,” Talbot said with a grin.

  Wilkes stepped on a sensor plate at the end of the passage and was whisked through the ceiling. It returned without Wilkes a few seconds later.

  Talbot called Sanger in and rode the shaft with her. They rose to a wide chamber filled with alien technology. Wilkes was inspecting various dome-shaped objects on a low table.

  “Incredible,” Sanger breathed. “Can you guys see all the holo-tags?”

  “No,” Talbot said, feeling inadequate. “Tell me about them.”

  “Must be my level in hydrology,” the engineer said. “This machinery is more advanced than anything humans or Irians have seen. I think I can open the rear sluice gates and fill the reservoir. Probably for the first time in centuries.”

  “What makes you think it’s been dry for that long?” Talbot asked.

  “From the rock formations outside,” Sanger replied. “There’s no evidence of scouring or erosion.”

  “Interesting,” Talbot said, turning to Wilkes. “I wonder if our alien friends knew they were never coming back.”
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  “It’s possible,” the commando said. “It’ll make for an interesting archaeological site for whoever wins this place.”

  Talbot had a surge of anxiety - failure wasn’t an option here. There was simply too much at stake. The game designers were effectively telling both armies that the winner would have access to exciting alien tech. A bonus to an already-massive pay day.

  “Fill the reservoir, Sanger,” Talbot ordered brusquely. “Activate this tech.”

  The hydrologist looked at Talbot nervously. “Might take a while, sir. I need to decipher these symbols.”

  “You have four hours,” Talbot said. “With readily available water in that reservoir we don’t have to worry about finding another source.”

  “It’ll give enemy dragoons a possible advantage,” Wilkes pointed out.

  “A risk I’m prepared to take,” Talbot said. “I plan to drink the water, not travel across it.”

  “Sir, we should access the dam wall,” Fielding said, entering the pumphouse. “From there we can scan the surrounding terrain.”

  “Good idea,” Talbot said. “From there we can settle on the general strategy.”

  Corbin located a larger drop shaft that traveled all the way to the top of the dam wall. Talbot rode with the first group, emerging through the floor of a command tower. The cylindrical building commanded a view in all directions. The view to the south was particularly spectacular. The sheer drop from the dam wall was enough to give the hardiest traveler severe vertigo. The dam was the largest artificial structure Talbot had ever seen. Whoever built this had successfully retained the ice-melt from the mountain range. Enough water to slake the thirst of an entire civilization. The various dashboards and controls were foreign to everyone. Sanger would be needed once she’d finished in the pumphouse.

  “Such a dry, parched landscape,” Fielding said, gazing out over the southern plain. The flat landscape was marked with a lattice of channels and gullies.

  “An ancient delta,”Corbin guessed. “Been dry for so long it’s become a lifeless salt pan. Nothing has grown down there for decades at least, probably centuries.”

  “But if we’re looking to engage the pumps and sluice gates again, where’s the water right now?” Wilkes asked.

  “Maybe the the rain stopped,” Corbin suggested. “And that’s why the aliens left.”

  “Maybe,” Talbot said, “But that’s all speculation and we have a job to do.”

  “Sir!”

  It was Harris, who’d found an exit and walked a several yards along the dam wall. “You’d better come see this!”

  Talbot joined her and was immediately buffeted by a strong wind howling down from the mountains. It was so cold it passed right through his bones.

  “There,” Harris pointed. A silvery glow in the corner of the dry reservoir. Talbot kicked himself - why hadn’t he seen it earlier? It may have been difficult to see at ground level against the mountain backdrop.

  “I want a team down there to claim it,” Talbot said. “Wilkes, take three engineers with you. Report back immediately.”

  Wilkes saluted and hand-picked his team. In the meantime, the rest of the Terrans traversed the entire length of the wall to scout the eastern end. Along the way, Fielding spotted something through her binoculars. Talbot took a look - far to the south, a string of four green beacons dotted the delta. Ashby and his host had spawned down there and were collecting beacons at will.

  “Crafty bastard,” Talbot said. “We’ll need to make a play for those beacons at some stage.”

  “I wonder where the others are,” Fielding mused, looking up at the imposing mountain range.

  “We might need to climb,” Talbot said grimly. He didn’t relish the idea, as the high-altitude terrain looked perilous, but any beacons captured up there would be difficult for the Irians to re-capture.

  There was a commotion amongst the engineers at the eastern dam terminus. Talbot rushed across, his hopes rising. It wasn’t a beacon, but almost as good - a quad. The game designers had apparently agreed to provide a little boost for the last battle. For Talbot, the quad was a sight for sore eyes. He only had a small group and the vehicle conferred a sense of solidity and protection. He ran his hand lovingly over the hood.

  “The Irians will have one too,” Fielding reminded everyone.

  “Which means they might have two,” Talbot said.

  The dam wall officially secured, the Major was greeted with the welcome sight of Wilkes and his small detachment returning from the reservoir.

  “All done,” said the commando. “That beacon down there glows navy, sir.”

  Talbot nodded appreciatively.

  “Any sign of enemy activity?”

  “None, sir. Though I heard a vehicle to the west. I think the Irians have found a pass into the hills.”

  Talbot felt a familiar dread climb into his guts.

  “They’re not wasting any time,” he mused softly, grabbing Fielding’s binoculars and training them on the northern pass beyond the reservoir. “That’s where they’ll come from. Defensive positions.”

  Fielding organized the troops along the wall. Problem was, she was the only one with a sniper rifle. Talbot rued losing his scouts on Avari, as they had been his most valuable unit in the early stages of the virtual war. It was pointless to dwell on it. Silvano would be won through engineering or not at all.

  “Wilkes,” he called. “Shouldn’t we be seeing some water by now?”

  Wilkes tried to reach Sanger over the com. All he got was static.

  “There was a surveillance bank in the control tower,” Fielding said.

  “Hold your positions,” Talbot said. “I’ll be back soon.”

  As he left, several engineers exclaimed at once. That could only mean the enemy had been seen high up the northern pass. His heart hammering, he sprinted all the way to the control tower. The surveillance bank was difficult to understand but he managed to toggle the pumphouse feed within a couple of minutes. There was no sign of Sanger, but an Irian sentinel filled the frame, swinging its heavy arms into the diagnostic panes.

  Furious, Talbot took the drop shaft to the lower tunnels. He wasn’t sure how he was going to bring down a sentinel but anger had clouded his judgment. There was no fear in his heart as he scampered through a dark, frigid tunnel. He’d lived his moment of ultimate failure a thousand times in his mind and was tired of it. Only action removed the crushing burden of command from his shoulders.

  The tunnel forked ahead and Talbot took the left option. He had a vague idea they led to opposite ends of the pumphouse. The light was so faint Talbot could barely see his hand in front of his face. Which meant that something was blocking the far doorway - something big.

  The light seemed to shift slightly and Talbot was struck in face with tremendous force. He slammed against the tunnel wall, stunned. The silhouette of a sentinel loomed over him. He just had enough time to lob a bore grenade at the thing’s head. It wasn’t the flush hit he was hoping for, more like a glancing blow. The grenade didn’t detonate until it ricocheted off the wall, lighting up the tunnel.

  Talbot took the opportunity to sprint to the pumphouse doorway, where he killed the light within. He could hear the sentinel approaching and backed along the wall. He bumped into all manner of hydrological machinery, including what looked like a pressure valve. There was no sign of Sanger, but she’d clearly been busy. Many of the generators were slowly coming to life, whirring and coughing like long-slumbering giants. The pressure valve was hot to the touch and trembled from the power being generated inside the walls.

  Unfortunately, killing the lights failed to provided the cover Talbot needed. The various blinking lights reflected off the sentinel’s polished armor as it emerged through the doorway. Talbot rued his inaccuracy in the tunnel - that bore grenade had barely scratched the helmet. Talbot allowed the hulking enemy to come closer, hoping against hope his final gambit would pay off.

  The sentinel approached with the confidence of som
eone who knew the fight was already over. Talbot raised his rifle and fired into the pressure valve’s central axle, which immediately turned to slag. The valve was released like a bullet, breaching the sentinel’s side plate and cutting through the soft Irian inside. The alien gasped in horror as blood flowed from the grievous wound. It sank to its knees, hydraulic gears sighing in displeasure.

  Talbot gave it a good kick to the head. The thing clattered to the floor, its occupant already dead. Panting heavily, Talbot looked around for Sanger’s corpse. He found her lying in an ante-chamber, alive but in pain.

  “It smashed my tibia and fibula,” she said. “But don’t worry about that - you need to complete the pump sequence.”

  “I can’t read the machinery,” Talbot pointed out.

  “I’ll guide you.”

  Following Sanger’s patient instructions, Talbot primed the last generator and got most of the northern pumps working. The sentinel had damaged three of them, which left nine in working order. The next step was to open the northern sluice gate array, which Sanger was able to describe in detail. Talbot breathed a sigh of relief when the last sluice gate was activated, but the overall process still failed to initiate.

  “Check the error log,” Sanger said.

  “There’s a map,” Talbot said, head buried in the light projection. A tiny red sphere flashed somewhere on the reservoir bed.

  “It’s the maintenance tunnel we first entered,” Talbot said with a frown. “I’ll have to go down. Stay here and call Fielding to assist. Tell her where I’m headed.”

  23

  Talbot rode the drop shaft to ground level and saw the problem at the end of the maintenance tunnel - an Irian quad was jammed inside the hatch. A dragoon sitting at the wheel spotted Talbot immediately. The alien had his harpoon raised before Talbot could draw his own weapon. Talbot thought he was as good as done but the Irian’s head exploded like rotten fruit.