- Let's take it from the top, - I suggested. - Obviously, I don't trust you.

  - And that's only natural, - Jim nodded, examining the corpses for more trophies. - You can't trust anyone on Pandora, not even yourself. But cooperation and temporary alliances are possible.

  He waved his hand, pointing at the corpses, and I nodded. If I hadn't taken on the psycho, it was unlikely he would have handled all three. Same goes for me.

  - I wouldn't want our cooperation to end with a bullet in the back when we find our prey, - I said. - It's worth putting that aside for a moment, though. Where did those three come from?

  Jim jabbed his finger at the wall the psycho had hit, and then walked toward it.

  - The basement, - he said. - I'm guessing there's a mountain of empty bottles and nothing but. Get drunk, sleep for a couple days, wake up at the wrong time. The usual.

  His guess was almost right. In addition to the trash - and the bottles - there was a box in the basement with several cartridge blocks, for a shotgun and an automatic rifle. The shotgun ammo had to be shared, and accordingly I switched to SG, putting the pistol on the turret.

  - Back to our conversation, - Jim continued. - Probably the only way you can protect yourself from a shot in the back is not to put it. Well, a good shield and your own toughness also helps. When your partner knows he can't finish the job with one shot, and then there's a response, it makes him think twice. You have a shield... you do, and my weaponry - he patted the shotgun - isn't good enough to take it down reliably enough. Especially not at point-blank range.

  I've pondered it.

  - Is your stash of guns guarded?

  - It's nice to do business with a smart man, - Jim smiled white-toothed. - Seriously, most bandits are so dumb and crazy you can't even fool them. Yes, there is a certain amount of security. I could take care of it alone, but I'd have to be better armed first. Two of us can do it without too much trouble.

  It all seemed rather dubious, but the logic behind Jim's words was obvious. Hmm... I'll have to take risks anyway, and this seems like a good opportunity. The main thing is to be careful not to be backstabbed, both literally and figuratively.

  - Okay, - I nodded.

  - It's a smart decision. So, first we need to get my ECHO back. Without it, this operation will be much more difficult.

  ECHO in this world is really important, but...

  - And how are you going to get it back? - I asked. The "simple matter" of going and getting the stash was growing - expectedly.

  - The bandits who put me away come back every day, hoping I'll tell them, - Jim explained. - So we just have to set up a proper ambush. First, we have to pretend I'm still buried. If I had any ECHO at all, I'd use a solid Hyperion hologram, but I'll have to do things a little differently. Can you get me on the comms? I need to call my ex.

  I nodded, and he dictated a code; a cone of diffuse light shot out of the ECHO.

  - Neural interface? - Jim said, but then an image appeared in the light: the head and part of the chest of a young... or not-so-young woman. The woman in the hologram was attractive, but it was hard to tell her age because of the makeup covering her. Red cylinder, dark hair... And a heart-shaped tattoo on her left breast.

  - Hmm? - she shifted her gaze from me to Jim and back again. - Jim, sugar, do you have a new friend? Did you decide to call to brag?

  - Moxie, you're my only love after money, you know that - replied the voiced one. - No, it's business. Can you sell me that doll? - he glanced at me - On credit?

  - Hmm... - the woman stretched thoughtfully, stroking her chin. It's amazing how much can be conveyed by such a simple word, practically just one sound. - All right. If you're still alive, come to my bar in Yellowrock. I've got a job for you.

  She did an air kiss and disconnected, and my ECHO reported an incoming archive.

  A human-sized doll made of plastic and metal, very accurately portraying my Slippery familiar. I raised an eyebrow.

  - It's love… - Jim explained. - After we broke up, Moxie couldn't let go of the memory of me.

  - She's got bullet marks on her - I noticed. - And, I think, throwing knives.

  - Well, Moxie's love is... peculiar, - the adventurer said, averting his gaze. - Now we'll need explosives.

  I only had one grenade, but on reflection, I decided to sacrifice it.

  Fun fact: modern grenades use antimatter as their "explosive". However, depending on the "modifier", the volume of the active substance and the efficiency of its use varies within extremely wide limits, from a few molecules to a couple of grams. Not only that, though - grenades in general come in very different varieties, depending on the manufacturer of the "mods".

  Mine was one of the simplest and most primitive, but it made the job of converting the grenade into a booby trap easier. The power output, however, left a lot to be desired.

  I - my character - had some manual, non-digitalized explosives skills, but at the current level it was "some," so I left it to Jim. He worked smartly and quickly; my participation was important, too.

  I was making sure that Claptrap didn't screw anything up.

  An ambush with that annoying little robot around is virtually impossible. Turning it off is also impossible. Jim suggested just shooting it, but aside from the "plot significance" I paid dough for it. "A lot of people fall for that," Jim remarked when I said that, nodding sagely.

  And it's a pity about the ammunition on it, too.

  So I wrapped Claptrap with the chain I found in the bandits' den, put him in the ammunition box, and buried him. I'll get it out when we're done with the next batch of bandits.

  He actually started yelling indignantly at the speaker, but I told him it was for his own safety, plus he had the responsible task of playing the buried treasure. As I expected, Claptrap became self-important and turned down the volume when I compared him to the treasure.

  Obviously, in the midst of all this, I've been keeping an eye on Jim. So far our interests were aligned, but...

  The bandits were due to arrive in the morning for another attempt to interrogate their victim, but the day on Pandora was much longer than on Earth, something like sixty hours. And that left us with a fair amount of free time on our hands.

  Jim went hunting. He grimaced at the sight of scag meat and remarked, "It's times like this that I think of pigcupine... Good thing there are better options after all," and soon returned with what I first took for cobblestones, gray and lumpy. On closer inspection, however, they turned out to be either crabs or some kind of large bugs that Jim and ECHO called "sand crayfish."

  Taste... Specific.

  Not bad, though. I provided the wok, water, and salt, and Jim, or rather his cyberprosthesis, provided the fire. Echo, by the way, gave a brief description of the "crayfish", confirming its edibility.

  - B three, - Jim said.

  - Missed. B five.

  - Killed... - sighed Slippery and flicked the scrawles on the sand. - I demand a rematch.

  Uh-huh, two scumbags sitting on the ground in the unknown future on a distant planet, and playing "naval combat". Why not, really? Who's going to stop us?

  I nodded and started drawing two squares on the ground again, with the muzzle of the gun. Both Jim's and mine playfields turned out remarkably even and neat.

  - Five-two, I said. - Another game?

  - I give up. - Jim raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. - How about a game of tic-tac-toe?

  "Level up!"

  Uh? I froze for a second. Why would I do that? Does winning count as completing a task? Or as actually winning?

  Or is the Almighty Bastard just trolling?

  - Just a second, - I raised my hand.

  "Status."

  That's right, the level has gone up. There was no automatic knowledge gain this time - though I definitely felt refreshed and... stronger, or something - but there was a message on the skill "screen" about an unspent point. The skills themselves were now unlocked - but not all of them. Three branches, each with a set of starting skills available. "Deconstruction" - available skills more effective destruction of armor and shields. Can be immediately discarded: not something that's really important right now. "Construction"... this is already more interesting. The first skill, "assembler", according to the description should simplify the creation of turrets (and other structures), as well as unlocks a set of licenses. The problem is that it didn't specify which ones. The second skill is "economy". Should reduce ammo consumption; I can assume there are some tricks to customizing ECHOs and/or weapons to use ammo blocks more efficiently. Valuable, no doubt, but other skills were strong competitors. "Technical Competency" - increases the effectiveness (all characteristics) of turrets and other structures, unlocks multiple licenses. At first glance a major contender, however I obviously checked out the remaining options first.

  Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

  There were some interesting possibilities there too.

  The "Life Support" branch. "Basic Military Training" speaks for itself. In the Pandora environment, military training, even basic, is a valuable thing. I honestly thought I already had something like this, but apparently not.

  Unfortunately, the effectiveness of this skill again remained to be guessed.

  The next was "field medic". And in addition to direct skills of first aid (and not only first aid, with sufficient skill), the description promised a license to digitally build a Vladoff's field medikit.

  Oddly enough, this was no longer a shot in the dark. A quick search on the EchoNet revealed that Vladoff's standard field medical kit included a wide range of medications and stimulants for various cases, and a basic module "autodoc", capable of self-diagnosis and injections. This is quite rare on Pandora, and seems to be quite useful.

  The third was "safety at fire". A set of methods of defense against fire and fire weapons, plus a license to synthesize a fireproof coating of armor. Not useless, but not a competitor to the previous skills.

  In the end, the choice is between increasing personal combat capability, medical insurance, and turret. Taking into account all the factors, among which the lack of ammunition is at the top of the list... The choice, in general, is obvious.

  I'm taking the turret improvement, and hopefully with its help I can take the "field medic" in the near future.

  - Never underestimate duct tape! That blue stuff deserves respect far more than any of you greens. Even without additional licenses or special technical knowledge, it allows for things like this...

  That was... somewhat different from what I expected. However, there is no denying the usefulness of the knowledge gained. Especially, there were different ones in this "archive". And plus, now I'll be able to refine my armor a bit.

  Don't underestimate duct tape.

  Pandora's night, how much is in those words...

  Actually, no. Given the presence of night vision, it's only about half as dark as day.

  The heat has gradually changed to coolness, but I was expecting a more abrupt transition given the semi-desert, if not completely desert, terrain. Perhaps it was the same improved body, though, and I simply tolerated the cold more easily. In principle, my armor had a built-in "air conditioner", but like almost everything else, it was broken and there were not enough materials for a complete repair (I hope to fix it as soon as possible). The shield also provided some temperature stabilization; I suspect an advanced model could replace a spacesuit. Though given the licenses and the need to sell more stuff, it's more likely this is provided by a separate device.

  Pandora's night is almost an Earth whole day long, but both Jim and I were quite able to safely go without sleep for that length of time without any ill effects. I probably could have taken a nap under the guard of the turret, but I decided not to risk it. But Slippery (it turns out that's his real last name...) took a nap for a couple of hours - well, yes, he has almost no reason to fear that I'll kill him in his sleep. What was I saving him for? The only thing to take from him was a trophy shotgun.

  I might still have risked a nap, too, but after the level increase, there was no trace of fatigue or sleepiness. At least it also provided something to do besides the burying of corpses already done: tuning the turret and refining the armor. Thorough as possible with limited skills and materials.

  Theoretically, with the ECHO, it's possible to mine all the necessary materials from the environment in small quantities and digitally build everything you need from them. Unfortunately, I wasn't in the sandbox after all... apparently.

  Nevertheless, there were still some things available. The metal from the frame of the building was not high quality steel or any special alloy like the one my shovel was made of, but there was a use for it. Actually, you always need some digitized metal, both for patching armor and digitally building turrets, and that's just the most obvious and important. The shells of "sand crayfish", by the way, also contained valuable minerals, but there were too few to count. However, since I had time, I didn't hesitate to recycle them as well. Who knows, maybe these half a gram of mercury, a gram of lead and a gram and a half of tungsten (unexpectedly) will come in handy.

  The bandits appeared about two hours after dawn, in a car similar to the one I had already seen.

  - I wish I had a sniper... - sighed Jim, who was sitting next to me. - Two bullets, and I wouldn't have to borrow from Moxie.

  I shrugged.

  - Maybe we could get some. In the meantime, we got what we got.

  - And what we have, - the adventurer grinned. - Be ready.

  I nodded, watching the bandits stop and get out of the car. They looked okay, not dwarves or giants, but there was something tense about them. Even at a distance the ECHO could identify them enough to assign a danger level (I wonder if it had something to do with my "levels"?...), and it was... disturbing. Fifth. The "badass psycho" had a sixth, but he was alone.

  Also... During the night I'd poked around the FAQ and ECHO settings, and now I knew that the red bar indicated the general state of organic, living, creatures, the yellow bar indicated the integrity of armor, if any, and the blue bar indicated the stability of the shield (conventionally, its "health"). Previous bandits only had red stripes. Now, however...

  - They have shields - I reported.

  - It was to be expected, - Jim remarked. - Even with a trap it can be difficult. We'll manage, the main thing is not to let them get away. I'll attack, you deploy the turret at the car and support.

  - Copy that - I replied briefly.

  The puppet representing Jim was very realistic, but I was still a bit skeptical. Slippery, however, assured me it would work - and he was right.

  The bandits approached the doll and said something; the doll, of course, didn't respond. Then one of them came closer and punched "Jim" in the face.

  It burst into flames.

  Alas and alack, the result was exactly what I feared. The power of the budget grenade wasn't enough; the blue shield bar on one of the bandits was zeroed out, on the other shrunk to a minimum and blinked alarmingly, but they were both alive.

  And that had to be fixed.

  If our little team had been more trusting of each other, it would have been worth it to lend Jim, as a stormtrooper, a shield. But he hadn't even mentioned it - and as it turned out, he could handle it just fine.

  He'd also thought this attack through more carefully than it seemed.

  The explosion raised a cloud of dust that blocked the bandits' view, and we took advantage of it. I rushed to the unattended car; set up my turret, and if I could, use the one on the car.

  I was still in the process of deployment when the unkilled victims of the explosion jumped out of the dust cloud and opened fire - on me. They retreated to the wheelbarrow, saw the enemy... "SG and a machine gun, I think" - I automatically noted, restraining the first impulse to seek cover. A second, and the deployment was complete; my shield had sagged, but the accuracy of the bandits' fire left much to be desired.

  I leapt over the car, taking cover behind it, and, sticking out again for a second, fired a short three-round burst from my own SG, trying to hit both of them.

  Shield battles have their own specifics. Local shields have unlimited (for practical purposes) energy reserves, but blocking incoming damage destabilizes them; the "stability" of a shield can be thought of as its "durability reserve". Once destabilized, the shield projecting device goes into a reboot, or cooldown, something like that, and needs some time to regain protection. Stability is also gradually restored, but under calm conditions; simply, to keep the shield from regenerating, you have to give it no respite. Like... Well, yeah, like in the game. So I tried to prevent my opponents from regenerating shields, while giving my own a chance to regenerate.

  The turret gave a voice, and then a shotgun blast rumbled out as well. And then another.

  I opted to save my ammo.

  "Level up!" - ECHO reported. Definitely for completing a mission... - "You have a new letter!"

  - We have the treasure! - sounded off to the side. I turned sharply - and saw another car pulling away. This one didn't have a turret; in its place sat a short man in a... gas mask? and was giving me the finger.

  And with his other hand he was holding a familiar crate.

  They stole Claptrap!