Emerging from the shower, drying her hair with a towel, Chaya was not particularly surprised to see a man sitting at her desk. Mikhail was examining her sketches, made on semi-transparent thick paper for creating cross-sections.
"Were you told that computers are used in this millennium to create drawings and models?" the leader of the Lantians inquired.
"Yes, I've heard something like that," the girl smiled, approaching the mirror. "But I don't trust those anti-religious rumors. Science, progress? Ugh, how vulgar. Ascension can only be achieved through spiritual means. I think if we ever encounter the Orai, I'll be able to disguise myself as one of them."
A chuckle came from Mikhail.
"You'll have to change the color of your dress to shades of red," he said. "It's their favorite color."
"Trouble," Chaya sighed with feigned sadness. "And I wanted it so much."
"And I would really not want to encounter the Orai," Mikhail admitted. "They are as developed as the Ancients, if not better. But they are more ruthless than the wraiths."
"Actually, I suspect we'll have to encounter them anyway," the girl said, moving to comb her hair. "What you were told by the Ascended is too specific. Whatever is in the Milky Way, it either kills the Ascended or blocks them in the galaxy on the principle of 'you can enter, but not leave.' And this is not just advanced technology. I can't imagine who you have to be to know how to destroy the Ascended."
"Unless you yourself were one," Mikhail suggested. "Moros..."
"That's what scares me," Chaya admitted. "Moros was a conservative, a zealot of rules. The most stubborn of all Lantians I ever knew. If he really gave it up to create a weapon against the Orai... I can't imagine what must have happened for him, and not someone else, to do that. It's all strange... and it's frightening."
"How is the decryption of your notes progressing?" Mikhail asked.
"Slower than repairing the city," Chaya sighed.
"Meaning – not at all?"
"Exactly," Chaya admitted. "I can come up with hundreds of meanings and analogies for each thesis off the top of my head, but their reliability... I'm afraid we won't move forward without going into the Milky Way and finding out for ourselves what's happening there."
"We'll go when we're ready," Mikhail grimaced, putting the drawings aside. "Did you hear what happened to Saya?"
"I think I was the first one Ihaar came to tell about it," Chaya shook her dried hair. For a moment, she admired how it looked, then looked at the man. "You know he didn't have malicious intent."
"Otherwise, I would have shot him with a blaster," Mikhail admitted. "The guy was too tired to sit down and think about the consequences of such actions. And besides, he simply didn't know that I would risk pulling a cyborg out of a stasis capsule under these circumstances. So, I don't intend to make him guilty of everything that happened."
"Me neither," Chaya said, sliding one of the wall panels aside and pulling out a pair of similar-looking dresses. "However, shared guilt does not exclude the fact of incorrect actions. Action breeds consequences."
"And Newton said action and reaction."
"He was a smart man," Chaya agreed, stopping her choice. "But one way or another, Ihaar had to learn that even heavy workload is no excuse for misleading. Therefore, after he finishes creating truly Lantian implants, he will have to work with Tayla on a Wraith cruiser for a week. And on repair work at the drilling rig. We are just ready to restore the hull and return the object's integrity."
"Doesn't sound like exile."
"You just don't know how much he detests Wraith technology interfaces," Chaya revealed.
"And you can be cruel," Mikhail shook his head.
"Strict," Sar corrected, looking into the man's eyes. "There are different management styles. And I try to maintain a distance between friendship and official duties, so as not to plant the idea in subordinates' heads that if I know them by name and can do their job, they can do whatever they want. Could you turn around?"
"After everything that happened between us?" the man was taken aback.
"Yes."
"Chaya, forgive my boldness, but... What haven't I seen there?"
"Me in anger," Sar demonstrated her warning smile. "I can talk about how important it is in any relationship not to cross the line of what is permissible. So that the personal remains personal and attraction is not lost through habituation to the partner's everyday behavior."
"'Domesticity destroyed our marriage'," Mikhail muttered, but nevertheless complied with the request and spun his chair so that his back was to the girl.
"Thank you," she said, taking off her robe. "Have you been informed yet?"
"That 'Ares' will soon be fully combat-ready? Yes, Trebal herself came from Taranis to ask me to take 'this stuffy piece of scrap metal.' She decided to raise it into orbit herself... I think it offended the purity of her genetic line."
"A willful piece of iron," Chaya agreed. "Although, it's strange to say that about something that has neither will nor consciousness."
"But its expressions should be noted," Mikhail chuckled. "Just think... a racist battleship. Although, what else can you expect from such creators?"
"I think you understand why we were worried about Haelia and the Ytranci then," said the head of Atlantis, passing her head through the collar. "They, unlike 'Ares,' can humiliate not only with code."
"And you're not worried now?" Mikhail asked in surprise.
"You made it clear that you are not going to increase the contingent on Atlantis by any means," the girl reminded. "That's enough for my personal peace of mind."
"What about the 'arrows' that were towed to the laboratory planet?" Mikhail returned to work issues.
"Alvar managed to pilot them, but preliminary inspection shows that both are seriously damaged," Chaya adjusted her dress and fixed her gaze on the shoe rack. "I don't think we'll be able to get both of them airborne, but we have one 'arrow' to use as a 'donor' of spare parts. I hope that one will be enough."
"So, we have three fighters and one pilot," Mikhail summarized.
"I think there will be candidates among the unawakened to pilot these machines," she said. "Soldiers from the 'Aurora' security service, for example. They are well-trained, know a lot about space and the peculiarities of vehicle behavior in vacuum and atmosphere. Especially since we can create training courses for them. But I don't think we should get carried away with such experiments."
"We don't have a choice for now," Mikhail said.
"And our own machines won't be ready for a very long time," Chaya warned, having made her choice. "We are in the design process. We are very far from the manufacturing and assembly stage."
"And what are we close to at all?" Mikhail said with annoyance.
"I think I've almost figured out how to raise the city from the ocean floor."
"Almost?" Mikhail turned to face her.
Glancing at the girl, who was fastening her unchanging adornment, with an approving, admiring gaze, he still shifted his gaze to her eyes.
"Make the same number of catastrophic mistakes as I did, and you won't want to assert anything without being sure of the outcome," the girl said, having managed the clasp.
"And on my planet, it's customary for men to help girls fasten their dresses and jewelry," Mikhail muttered.
"In that case, how do your girls survive when they don't have partners?" Chaya inquired, putting her hands behind her back. "But, since it's so fundamentally important to you that you decided to say it, consider that nothing happened."
The dress sagged slightly, revealing her back, and the necklace slid into her hand.
"That sounds like a trick question," Mikhail got up from the chair, walked over to the Proculucian, and turned her back to him.
Chaya squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, feeling his palm on her skin, but quickly pulled herself together.
"You know that to fasten a dress, you need to use a zipper?" she clarified.
"I'm much more concerned about where your dress even has a zipper," the clasp detached from her back and slowly slid upwards.
"I altered it," Chaya admitted. "It used to have buttons, but I saw this type of fastener on Ermen clothing. And I found it convenient enough for quickly joining parts of the dress."
"And... If I ask how you used to fasten it yourself when there were zippers, you'll say..."
"That it's none of your business," Chaya cut off, extending her clenched fist with the necklace back. "Let's agree that some personal moments remain personal? I'm not used to talking about where I got new shoes, bracelets, earrings, or anything else. I was raised not to share such details with a man. It's information you don't need and that embarrasses me. And besides, what will you do with it when you find out?"
The adornment touched her chest as Mikhail threw it over her head. His fingers ran over her skin, making her flinch. And then she flinched from the kiss that touched her spine. Through the skin, of course...
Oh, this skin... Sometimes Chaya hated the genetic therapy of the Ancients. Because of it, her sense of touch had increased tenfold.
"Have you been told that you are the most tactful and wonderful girl in all of Atlantis?" Mikhail whispered.
"Come closer for a couple of minutes, and I'll come up with some harmless joke in response," Chaya squeezed her eyes shut, feeling his hands on her waist. "And, one more thing..."
"Did you find a planet that can be blown up?" Mikhail asked.
"No, but if you flirt while I need to get back to work on the city's main systems, I'll blow up your brain in retaliation," Chaya promised, tearing herself away from his caring hands with difficulty and against her own desires. Turning to the man, she looked him seriously in the eyes. I wonder, does he understand how beautiful his eyes are? And how much respect the Ancients have for him because he, an alien from another universe, observes eye contact without unnecessary words and reminders, one of the fundamental commandments of verbal communication in Ancient society? Probably not. And because of that, more and more respect is shown to him. "Perhaps more than once."
"Don't turn into an average Earth woman," Mikhail demonstratively removed his hands.
"Don't use your position and the fact that I can't resist you," Chaya asked. "We have a lot of work to do."
"Speaking of which. Day off..."
"An interesting theory," Chaya agreed, darting towards the exit. "There was nothing like that in Ancient society. We need to work on the concept."
"Actually, I wanted to apologize for not even asking how you're enduring such a load," Mikhail said, embarrassed. "A whole city on you, and I'm not even very useful in repairs."
"I've found my way to keep my psyche in relative balance," Chaya smiled, exiting her apartments with the man. "Have you ever thought about how labor-intensive the process of evolution was, to combine the same processes in our bodies to optimize the organism as much as possible?"
Mikhail frowned, pondering what he had heard. And just as he sighed heavily, the girl already knew that he had understood what was said between the lines.
"If the process of intimacy wasn't pleasant, we would never reproduce at all," he said. "And the fact that it helps relieve stress."
Ah, no, he didn't understand.
"Actually, I meant that communicating with you not only helps me learn new things but also allows me to switch from routine tasks to an engaging conversation," Sar explained. "But your version is also curious. From a scientific point of view, of course. And now, before you translate something else into the realm of reproduction processes, I would like to discuss disabling the redirection program. We conducted diaphragm tests on Ermen. I believe such protection would be better than interfering with the gate system."
"Afraid of mistakes?" Mikhail became wary.
"I'm afraid I might blow up not one, but a dozen planets," Chaya admitted. "But, in general, we've finished with the geothermal generator on Atos and I see no point in continuing this game. It, judging by the logs of the dialing device on Atos, is already attracting a lot of attention. We've already encountered strangers landing on Atos. We have several planets with modified program crystals inserted into their star gate dialing devices. If even one such crystal falls into the wrong hands..."
"Consequences?"
"Imagine what will happen if all the gates in the galaxy suddenly stop working as they should? Moreover, if several hundred edits are made to this program, we ourselves won't be able to figure it out. Would you like to go to Ermen, and instead have breakfast with the wraiths?"
"I don't think so. But I've been thinking a lot about changing the gate addresses throughout the galaxy. Earthlings did that..."
"It's strange that they survived," Chaya admitted. "And yes, we discussed this option to implement the 'Aterro' program. I warned you – if we start changing addresses in the galaxy, we won't be able to stop the cascading collapse of the system. I can start it, but I won't be able to stop it," she corrected herself. "It's beyond my power."
"But it worked at the gates in the Milky Way," Mikhail began the old conversation. "And the consequences were prevented by those who were much less intelligent than you."
"And also, based on your stories, these people were incredibly lucky," Chaya felt a slight irritation. "Besides, the Milky Way gates are significantly more primitive than the Pegasus ones. Not only hardware-wise, but software-wise too. I studied their technology before the Ascension, and I'm still studying it now. And I still can't understand many things."
"It sounds like you're not the smartest one in Atlantis."
"Flattery won't help," Chaya shook her head. "I've made too many mistakes to repeat one of them again. I am almost one hundred percent sure that the adaptive protocols of the Pegasus gate network will turn a computer virus that changes addresses into a real nightmare. If you are willing to take responsibility for the fact that thousands and thousands of travelers who are beyond their planets will never return home, or will die at the moment the program is launched if they are in a hyper-tunnel, then do it yourself. Without me."
"Chaya, it was just a question. We agreed to avoid genocide and mass casualties."
"I remember. That's precisely why we don't mess with the Asurans. We don't look for Janus's laboratory, thereby initiating acquaintance with the dark Asgardians, we don't go to the 'Aterro' project laboratory, we haven't launched the 'Arcturus' project, and we're not doing many other things that would cause huge problems," Chaya said quickly. "And I'm truly grateful to you for not demanding that I cross my own rules."
"In that case, half the galaxy will be covered in blood. And that's not how I'd like to start."
"Glad to hear it. Besides, I can't stop thinking about the fact that this happened because one or more Ascended beings somehow patronized Earthlings. We're short on patrons."
"Do you think it's that bad?"
"I think it's not the first time the Ancients have manipulated people's destinies," Chaya said. "But that's just a guess. Maybe people on Earth are truly just heroes and intelligent beings who found problems themselves and heroically solved them. I don't know. I have almost no facts to develop even one of the theories."
"Then let's get back to the danger of interfering with the gates' operation with your redirection program."
"The programming of the stargate system is quite sophisticated. The creators of the network foresaw millions and billions of ways to invade their technology and took care of it. The gates can account for many types of software changes. They will easily cope with some, and with others, they won't. And in the latter case, there's a danger that in the gate system, which endlessly exchanges information with each other through subspace, a code born from the struggle with foreign programming might appear. I can't predict how this will affect the network's operation."
Mikhail slowed his pace.
"Tell me, you didn't know this when you wrote the program?"
"I didn't. But I am studying the Atlantis database. And I'm learning a lot of new things. About software protection, an analogue of biological immunity, I learned literally before I came to my apartment. Well, and I calculated the options while I was getting ready."
The man caught up with her again, even putting an arm around her shoulders. It was clear that he didn't believe she could hypocritically create dangerous programs for the gates and simultaneously claim that she didn't want to intentionally harm the stargate network.
"Does it think better underwater?" Mikhail asked her, referring to her last words.
"This trick doesn't apply to the ocean above our heads," Chaya assured him.
Mikhail sighed in resignation.
"Then it's time to end our games with the gates. And think about how to minimize the consequences of guests arriving at Athos."
"I think the simplest solution will be the most effective."
"You were against genocide, weren't you?"
"You understand that I'm talking about negotiations. You understand, right?!"
"Scheduled gate activation!" the duty technician, responsible for the control room during the current shift, announced loudly.
"Who is it?" I asked. Actually, I needed to go to the 'jumper' hangar, but asking questions doesn't hurt.
After the hyper-tunnel was established, the gates were enveloped in a matte glow of an energy shield. The technician checked the data on the monitor.
"Alvar Jensen is returning from Proculus," the technician reported. "Access codes are correct, and the recognition bracelet is also confirmed. I intend to let them in. Do you have a different opinion?"
Without the distinctive uniform of an 'Aurora' crew member, this guy, like other Ancients, didn't look like a representative of a highly developed civilization. Ordinary appearance, short haircut, phlegmatic gaze.
"No, everything is according to plan," I nodded, meanwhile walking onto the small balcony hanging over the arrival zone.
The shield melted away, and a few moments later, an Ermen emerged from the event horizon. Grabbing the scruff of the neck of a Wraith clad in a dark leather coat, Alvar never seemed relaxed for a moment.
However, the 'frequency device' pressed against Koschei's side spoke of this without excessive modesty.
"What Wraiths," I drew the attention of the only prisoner of Atlantis. "Koschei, you've really decked yourself out."
Until now, the Wraith had only sported fashionable leather pants "à la I'm a metalhead from my mom" and a sleeveless shirt made of similar material.
Looking at me, the Wraith slightly parted his lips, ignoring Kirik, who had approached him. Together with Alvar, they were supposed to escort the Wraith to a cell, where he would be delivered several more cells with unawakened Ancients.
"You decided to feed me my own kind?" the Wraith growled. "I don't believe you've run out of human enemies."
"Don't play the gourmet, Koschei," I asked. "You yourself happily devoured your own crew. So be grateful for what you have."
"Including this?" the Wraith slightly raised his hands, shaking his chains.
"Actually, I wanted to say 'Don't act up, just eat what you're given,' but you now have a fashionable coat. And metal suits a Kiss fan," I sweetened the pill. "Come on, don't delay – work awaits you. How many can you revive?"
"One, no more," the Wraith said.
"After eating almost thirty of your brethren?" I was surprised. "You're too picky, my dear fellow. At least two!"
"Twenty-nine maimed and desperately trying to regenerate their injuries Wraiths are not food," Koschei said irritably. "Besides, I think you'll be interested in what I can tell you."
"Coordinates of the MNT?"
"No."
"A warehouse with Ancient equipment?"
"No."
"A weapon capable of killing all Wraiths?"
Koschei even flinched. Wow, how scared the guy was. It's a shame, of course, that such a weapon doesn't exist. Well, except for the 'Aterro' device.
But these are all thoughts about problems.
"No," Koschei rasped.
"Then what can you offer me, my by no means young friend. And yes, in this case, the word 'friend' is part of an idiom. I don't consider you a friend, you secretive intelligent being."
The Wraith bared his teeth.
"In that case, what I'm about to tell you will bring our friendship one step closer, Mikhail."
"I doubt a couple of old Wraith anecdotes will amuse me enough for me to bring you a couple of beers."
My smile made the Wraith's hands tremble. An irritated cackle came from his throat.
Come on, you ancient bastard, go ahead. I know how much mockery gets to you. If you shake him up properly, he'll tell me everything in an insulting manner to show how great he is in his knowledge.
Because I have a gut feeling – this guy decided to bargain.
"You're not in your hive, Wraith," the Ermen poked Koschei pointedly between the ribs. "Ah yes, you don't even have a hive. You're a supply ship captain!" Alvar shook the Wraith by the scruff of his neck. "Do that again and I'll shoot your legs off."
"And then you'll have to carry me for feeding on your back," Koschei retorted, giving him a contemptuous look.
Then the Wraith looked at me.
I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Chaya, drawn by the conversation, came out of her 'office'. The girl looked worried about how the Wraith was behaving.
However, it's not hard to guess that this scoundrel understood my game perfectly. And he's playing his own.
And one must also understand that he is by no means a fool to stir up trouble with just an empty sound. If his information, and I can even guess how he obtained it, is of little value or useless in essence, then he wouldn't be playing with fire for empty posturing.
He definitely has something serious.
I glanced back at the technicians in the control room. Confusion and interest appeared on their usually impassive faces.
The ten-thousand-year-old brat managed to intrigue.
"What I'm about to tell you, Mikhail, might shock your people," the Wraith smiled broadly. "Should I say it here, or in the negotiation room?"
"Kirik, Alvar," I called out to the former 'fugitives'. "Take him to the negotiation room."
I really hope he decided to test my patience.