I really did have a truckload of questions and another small-cartfull to boot, so I didn’t even know where to begin. On the mini-map I noticed that the four First Legion soldiers had hopped into the following two vehicles, so I decided to ask the details of our current mission:


    “I suspect the faction didn’t send three armored vehicles all the way to the Geckho base just to buy me a scanner.”


    The driver of the Peresvet gave a happy chuckle at these words, and Ivan Lozovsky couldn’t hold back a smile.


    “Of course not,” the diplomat was in a kind-hearted mood and decided to answer my question in detail. “Our faction just sold a large shipment of goods to the Geckho. Mostly rare steel alloys, rolled metal, and high-tension glass...”


    “Palladium ingots...” the level-54 Mechanic-Driver by the name of Vadim cut into the conversation, but immediately went silent, intimidated by the fearsome gaze of the diplomat.


    “Yes, and palladium as well,” Ivan Lozovsky confirmed after a long pause. “However, the fact this convoy was carrying valuable metal was top secret, but apparently the whole faction already knows. We’ve got just sixteen tons of cargo, but fifty-five thousand crystals. This is the largest shipment our faction has ever made. It’s a remarkable success for our faction, but also a huge responsibility. Our suzerains have already paid for the goods, so now it''s a matter of honor that we reach our buyer the buyer.”


    “Wouldn’t it have been easier to send it by sea?” I asked in surprise. “It’s just a matter of leaving the cargo at the Geckho storehouses on the pier.”


    Ivan Lozovsky gave an unhappy chuckle and shook his head.


    “It isn’t all so simple. You see, Gnat... How can I explain it...? The Geckho are a very populous space-faring race, but their society is very multifaceted in structure. The Geckho have many leaders of all different kinds and levels, and each commands a group or tribe. Between the various leaders and groups, there aren’t always trusting and warm relationships. So, the Geckho responsible for the pier on the Antique Beach, and the ones buying the cargo...” he got stuck trying to choose his words.


    “I get it. In that way, the Geckho are just like people. If extraterrestrials wanted to send some platinum to, say, North Korea, they might think it reasonable to leave it with say, South Korea. But since they don’t get along, it would never reach its intended destination, even though they’re relatively nearby and transport should be no issue.”


    The diplomat clearly found my example funny, and even laughed:


    “It isn’t all quite so hopeless as in your example, but you get the idea. We couldn’t send it by sea. And now we’ll have to bring the valuable cargo around the bay through three neutral nodes. Twenty-nine miles each way through swamps and forests. By the way, this is the first serious test of our Peresvets. Until now, we’ve gone a few times on somewhat more basic trucks, but then we had an order of magnitude less cargo, and it was of lower value.”


    The diplomat went silent, because a man in a camouflage smock appeared on the road ahead. An ally, as I determined by the green marker on the map. The First Legion scout gave us concrete information when we were closer. Our driver clearly knew the man, started smiling, lowered the armored glass on his side and stopped. The acquaintances exchanged handshakes, and the Scout extended a tablet to the driver:


    “Vadim, here’s the route. It’s basically like the previous one. But the pass near the Harpy Cliffs is closed due to a landslide. You’ll have to take a two-mile hook. We’ve marked the detour on the map. We’ve checked the whole length of the road and cleared fallen trees in a few spots. The boulder you got stuck on last time was also dug out and rolled away.”


    Here the scout saw Ivan Lozovsky sitting next to the driver, stood at rigid attention and hurried to issue a report:


    “Comrade deputy director! Late last evening in area 22-40 we observed an army jeep of terrestrial variety at the Geckho space port. It came to the Geckho base from the north on a gravel road. It contained four members of the H1 faction. A diplomat, driver and two bodyguards. Our soldiers did not reveal their presence and the vehicle was let through unimpeded.”


    “Good job! I suppose that was the Chines coming to apologize to our suzerains for the low-quality security-system sensors. I imagine They’ll let them have it...”


    The driver and his acquaintance both snickered together, but the diplomat put a damper on their happieness:


    “I don’t see what''s so funny here. The Chinese will take it into account and quickly correct the faults in their system. But them delivering one piece of bad technology does not diminish the fact that the H1 Faction is significantly ahead of us in semiconductors and electronics.”


    The scout grew serious and, placing his hand on his helmet, wished us a pleasant ride. Our Peresvet raced off into the thick fog. Three minutes later, Ivan Lozovsky, having led his gaze over a crooked leaning barrel, commented for me:


    “We’ve just crossed the border into neutral territory. This node is strategically important for us. There’s access to the sea and the shortest path to our suzerains’ base. And there we can trade, get new technology, access the space port and improve our development. Overall, our faction is very lucky the Geckho base was relatively nearby, and we have smooth trade relations with the fast-developing race. I cannot even imagine how we’d get by in this difficult world without the technology we get from our suzerains.”


    Perception raised to 21.


    That short message popped up before my eyes, making me shudder. What? Why? I checked Gnat’s stat table, and made sure Perception really was one unit higher. I was reminded that during the Assassin’s phys ed class, Svetlana had said that any statistic can be improved, and the first improvement comes after eight hours of intensive use. That meant that I had been using my Perception actively for eight hours already. Cool!


    And meanwhile, the diplomat, turning the settings of his sophisticated radio, sent a message to Outpost One that our scouts had seen members of the Human-1 Faction. After that, he turned off the radio and turned back to me:This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    “Unofficially, we consider this node ours already. Our faction calls it Karelia due to the similar climate and landscape. It borders three of our territories: Capital, Yellow Mountains and Antique Beach. We always have a few scout groups here, and our military divisions often comb through the area. Also, our faction Geologist Mikhalych sometimes comes here to work. There are no organized enemies here. The only threats are a large pack of man-eating wolves, lone wild bears over level 100, and poisonous snakes in very large quantity. But all those living creatures won’t stop our faction from founding a base here.”


    “But then why haven’t we done so yet? Especially if the Karelia node is so important to us!”


    “Gnat, we have less than fifteen hundred people in our faction, and that is not enough to do everything. It’s scary to think, but we now have just one capable guarsman for every square mile of territory, and that’s barely to hold our external border. Due to the lack of people, the enemy occasionally breaks through our lines, and can remain in our lands unnoticed for weeks at a time, as you’ve already seen. So, expanding our territories and extending communication lines is a huge risk to us.”


    I lowered my head, downcast by such alarming news. No, I had already understood that we didn’t have many people. But I didn’t even come close to understanding the scale of the problem. Seeing my disheartened state, the diplomat tried to perk me up:


    “Don’t worry, Gnat! In a few weeks, if everything goes according to plan, we’ll get the Antique Beach node up to level two, then we can bring another hundred seventy-four players into the game. But that, to be honest, is if we manage to build two new corncobs. But I hope everything goes smoothly both in the real world and the virtual one. Then, our manpower situation will improve, and I’ll ask Radugin about building our base in Karelia. Before we expanded into the Eastern Swamp, I suggested this might make a better choice, but I was in the clear minority. All other faction leaders voted for the Eastern Swamp, because it has oil. What''s more, the Eastern Swamp node borders the Dark Faction, so it was very important to occupy its oil fields before our enemy and fortify on these territories. Perhaps my colleagues were right. In the last couple days, we got a oil refinery up and running, and now we have plenty of fuel to send our vehicles on longer journeys.”


    Cartography skill increased to level thirty!


    Scanning skill increased to level twenty-two!


    I dismissed the popup messages. Not bad, not bad. I was even somewhat lucky that I was taken on this long-distance three-node route. By the end of the trip, I suspected I would get at least one more level in Cartography, and maybe even two! But I still wanted the deputy faction head to explain why I’d been schedule for patrol. So I asked him.


    “You see, Gnat...” I again could sense the diplomat straining to find the words, as if he was afraid of saying too much, “we have long suspected, and are now quite certain, that some of our people are working for the Dark Faction. Otherwise, it''s hard to explain a string of failures in our scouting and combat operations, and the fact that our enemy knows about our secret developments and negotiations with our neighbors.”


    Seeing a lack of understanding on my face, the diplomat clarified:


    “Yes, Gnat, this is a harsh world. What’s more, there’s too much riding on this horse – the survival of all humanity. And so we torture our prisoners, dragging out all information by any means necessary. Yes, it''s barbaric, but the enemy does not hold back with our soldiers either. Anyhow, most of what we get is useless, but sometimes we hear surprising tidbits. For example, before we finished building 152-mm howitzer installations at the Prometheus, the enemy already knew not only about that top-secret technology, but even the exact location these howitzers were to be placed!”


    Holy crap! I whistled in surprise. All that meant there had to be a leak. And this wasn’t the kind of information every H3 player would have, either.


    “And there’s another cause for worry. There have been strange rumors swirling recently that the Dark Faction is quickly gaining strength, and is already a head and shoulders above us in technology. Very soon, according to this rumor, resistance will be futile. They say our days are numbered, all our nodes will be captured, and we will no longer even be able to enter the game that bends reality. But supposedly, our players who manage to join the Dark Faction and earn recognition will receive asylum and can even leave their virt pods not under the Dome, but in their world. After that, they can supposedly change sides and play for the Dark Faction.”


    “Yeah, I’ve heard that a few times,” our driver clenched his teeth angrily and gripped the wheel with such force that his knuckles went white. “We all understand that these degrading thoughts aren’t even ours. It’s just enemy mages trying to muddy the waters. Cheap propaganda like the Nazis used back in the war. ‘Russ, surrender, there’s plenty of food and shelter in our camps.’ History tells us what happened to those who gave into such enemy agitation. My great grandfather was surrounded by Germans near Kiev in ‘41, and he surrendered. He and a hundred thousand other captives were tortured in a concentration camp.”


    That time, the diplomat didn’t interrupt the driver and let him say his fill. After that, he continued his thought:


    “And it so happened, Gnat, that you were rude to Leng Thumor-Anhu La-Fin. With many people around you either gave him the finger or showed him your bare ass. Various stories have reached me. After that, you called him an especially bad name, something to the effect of calling him an impotent dotard. You said that his magic was total dregs and that you could handle it easily. But before that, you offended his granddaughter, stripping her naked and taking her clothes and lens.”


    “What?! I didn’t even do a tenth of what you’re saying!”


    “Gnat, it doesn’t even matter now whether you did it or not. I’m telling you the story the way I heard it. And that exact story, believe me, is what our enemies heard as well. After all, Leng Thumor-Anhu La-Fin is a very important bigwig in the Dark Faction hierarchy. In his homeworld, he’s part of a ruling Triumvirate. So, the old mage cannot simply close his eyes to an insult and pretend nothing happened. His own people just won’t accept it. They’ll start doubting his right to rule. Beyond that, as with any high-status player, he has an Authority stat, and your insults brought it down a good deal. And now put all that information together and you tell me what you were doing in the forest just now?”


    I thought very briefly and gave him a full answer:


    “I could tell right away I was being used as live bait. But it wasn’t like the traitor would capture me himself. More likely, he would simply send the information to the other side about where to find me. So, you were using me to test a suspected traitor for level of access to information. The whole faction thought I was headed to the Antique Beach. Very few knew better, that I’d be let out at the fork. And it was just a few select people who knew I’d be going in this truck convoy to the Geckho base.”


    “Wait, wait!” Ivan Lozovsky interrupted me. “You’re basically right, but this caravan is not part of the plan. That was a spontaneous improvisation on my part to take you with us. In fact, Dmitry Zheltov was supposed to come soon and bring you back to the Capital. We told him you were going to be in the forest to scan territory and determine the border between water-flooded cave systems that are inhibiting construction.”


    A very thin pretext to my eye. Who would believe such crap? But the diplomat''s next words overturned my doubts and mistrust:


    “There really are such subterranean caverns. There are even some dangerous creatures living in them that gobbled up a group of excavators digging a ditch the day before last. So, you being sent there should have looked natural. Fortunately, the Dark Faction informant was not in the know and was just one of the lower-level players. So, the enemy sabotage group attacked the little bus. We were ready for that, the Second Legion made it quickly and didn’t let any of them get away.”