"The entered request is invalid. Please try again."
"Is that all you have to say to me?" I asked.
"The entered request is invalid. Please try again," Ganos Lal repeated.
"Well, fine," I sighed, stepping off the pedestal and sitting down against the wall. I didn't even bother to notice that the "hologram" hadn't disappeared. "How about I tell you a story?"
"Should I activate record new file mode?" the Ascended One clarified, continuing her strange game.
"As you wish," I shrugged, pulling another plasticky hematogen bar out of my backpack. "Alright. Once upon a time, there were the Ancients. That's what their descendants from Earth called them. In their home galaxy, this race was called Alterans. In the Milky Way — the Others or the Ancients. In Pegasus — the Lantians. So, the Lantians, having had a rough time in the Pegasus galaxy, leave for Earth. The whole lot of them. They live there, develop their descendants. Then, one of them, named Moros," the left corner of the woman of light's eye twitched slightly, "gets the idea that the ancient enemies of this civilization, the Alterans' kin who call themselves Ori, will decide to kill all the Ancients. The other Ancients, already Ascended by then, didn't believe his ideas. And when Moros, also known as Merlin, also known as Myrddin, decided to create a weapon to fight the Ori. And, since every single Ori had Ascended, the weapon was also dangerous for the Ascended Ancients. So they sent one of their own to observe Merlin's experiments. To stop him. And when the weapon, named the Sangraal, was created, the observer destroyed the weapon. Is that an interesting enough story?" I took a big bite, chewing energetically.
"An interesting story," the Ancient agreed.
"It'll get even more interesting when I tell you what really happened to the weapon's creator," I poked my finger at the ceiling, hinting at the Ascended. "I'm sure those guys would be extremely interested to know exactly how you deceived them. Of course, they won't interfere, it's not in your rules. But you won't be able to play your game anymore, pretending to be a hologram you created for teaching children. And you won't be able to, at the key moment in history, hint at the names of planets that will influence the search for the weapon against the Ori..."
The "hologram," poorly concealing its interest in what I had said, stared at me openly. It seemed, as I had hoped, my story intrigued her.
First and foremost, because her plan could be exposed. The Ascended Ones, of course, won't destroy what she prepared for the future search by the Earthlings, but there's a catch — for the search to go in the right direction, Ganos Lal herself is needed. Here, on Atlantis. And not as a hologram, but under the same guise she is using here.
The Ascended One who pretends to be a hologram.
"Well, so?" I asked. "Will you deign to enlighten me, or should I start talking about your treachery so the others can hear?"
Again, only silence in response. The lady clearly knows her worth and is weighing the consequences of various actions.
Well, I'm once again convinced that even in a moment of serious danger, the Ascended Ones will not interfere. Even if the fate of their beloved legacy depends on it. Including the humans they created on countless planets in various galaxies.
"Something is definitely going on here," I finished my snack and started pacing the room. "Let's think logically while we have time. Among the Ascended, there are do-gooders who are ready to break their own rules and directly intervene in a crisis situation to help the fighters for a good cause. Whether it's that good, we won't argue. The main thing is that when your interests are at stake, you find a way to adjust events using one person or another. Visions, hints, riddles, puzzles, and so on... All to achieve your goals. And now, I appear on Atlantis. Let's not insult each other's intelligence and pretend that the 'Stargate' universe doesn't include the version of Earth I lived on. Consequently, one of your," I pointed at the ceiling again, "among the Ascended, was so horrified by what was happening in your universe that they decided to seek help from another universe. And they didn't choose alternative heroes known for their deeds, but me. A person who, in principle, knows and can do very little about this universe. You gave me a young and strong body, probably even implanted your Ancient Gene. And you stuck me not in some backwater, but on Atlantis, in the Pegasus galaxy. Why not Earth, in the Milky Way?"
The "hologram" was silent.
She stood in the same place, eyes closed. I suspect she's having a mental conversation with her allies on the higher planes of existence, to get either permission or a ban on talking to me.
"I suspect the problem is that the trouble is specifically in the Pegasus galaxy," I continued my brainstorming. "Something happened. Or didn't happen. Because of which one of you panicked and did what they did. I feel sorry for that do-gooder, of course. But he knew what he was getting into. So, let's use process of elimination. You're not worried about the Wraith and their hunting of humans — otherwise you would have intervened earlier. You're not worried about the other problems in this galaxy — for the same reason. That means something extraordinary happened... Something that completely destroyed your plans for the future. Correct me if I'm wrong. I suspect that everything happening is far from accidental. I have a feeling that the interventions are part of a plan and..."
"Stop."
I was so startled I froze on the spot, hearing the voice of the Ascended Ancient. First I was glad she had made contact. Then I realized: she did it so I wouldn't voice my theory about the predetermination of all events.
She didn't want me to say that.
Because the other Ascended would hear. And take action. That was exactly what I was blackmailing her with — revealing Ganos Lal's secret plan to help Earthlings in their war against the ancient Alteran relatives, the Ori, to her kin. And I was counting on her stopping me so the others wouldn't hear... Because the other Ascended would be against it.
Is it time to put on a tin foil hat and start thinking that the Ascended will hate me if they find out what I think about them and their plans? I don't know, I don't know... But secrets like this are usually taken to the grave.
"So, have you matured enough for a frank conversation?" I clarified.
"Within the limits permitted by the rules of Ascension," she said indifferently.
"Can I take a look at the manual so I can formulate my questions correctly?" I asked.
"You will learn all these rules if you ever become Ascended," she said.
"I'd like a spiritual mentor to shorten the path. Could you give me Oma Desala's address? She's a specialist in that."
Another silence, accompanied by a blink of virtual eyelids.
Well, I should think so.
Ascension is a complex spiritual-mutational process. Both the body and worldview change, becoming completely alien to human nature and logic. You can overcome this path on your own, or you can cheat by receiving "fraternal help" from an already Ascended One.
Literally — seeing a worthy candidate for Ascension, an Ascended One could help them become one as well. I think this doesn't even break the rules and is widely practiced by certain Ancients.
Oma Desala is one of those "do-gooders." The others don't like her, though. Because once she helped a very wrong person almost Ascend.
Not a kind and inquisitive mind of a researcher.
But a parasite that takes over the bodies of sentient species, including humans. Goa'uld are like that. And parasitism, in their case, isn't even their biggest sin. I'd even say it's the least of them. Mass murder, genocide, enslavement, destruction of planets, stars, and so on — that's a more extensive list of reasons not to like these guys.
Oma made a mistake and helped one of them almost Ascend. She stopped in time, but the process was already irreversible.
"You had questions," she reminded me. "I am ready to hear them."
"But not answer them, right?" I smiled.
"I have no right to interfere in the lives and events of mortals," the Ancient stated one of the most important rules of the Ascended.
"But a conversation doesn't count," I noted.
"Up to a certain point," she said after a moment's thought.
Digging through my memories, I guessed:
"Correct me if I'm wrong. You can't give direct instructions or use the powers, knowledge, or technology of the Ascended to help people? But no one forbids us from talking about generalities, right?"
"Simplified, but correct," she said.
Alright, I'll figure that out later.
"I'm not from this universe, am I?" Basically, the Voice had said as much, but knowing the Ancients, they could have made a serious mistake. Especially since the Voice's plan could have been derailed by other Ascended...
"Yes," she replied.
Not bad. So my logical thinking is pretty good. Let's continue gathering information. Especially since this doesn't particularly affect the overall situation. No energy being consumed, so the catastrophe isn't approaching by leaps and bounds.
"Who sent me here?" I inquired.
"I am not authorized to reveal that information," she said.
Interesting. How can one name influence what might happen? It's probably someone very, very powerful, authoritative, and famous. And just their name could set me on a certain path.
A path the Ascended don't want.
"What am I supposed to do?"
A blunt question. And I'm sure I won't get an answer.
"I cannot tell you that either," she admitted.
Didn't expect anything else.
"Maybe then you can tell me what the problem was, that breaking the rules this badly was necessary?" I asked. "You could have asked any of the Earthlings for help. General O'Neill, Samantha Carter, Dr. Jackson, Colonel Sheppard, Dr. McKay, and a good hundred others, more experienced and skilled..."
You could have... If you could. But what if you couldn't? What if the expedition to Atlantis I mentioned never arrives? And if so, then something happened on Earth that broke the chain of events?
An interesting guess.
Ganos Lal looked at me indifferently. Demonstratively indifferently. But something told me she didn't want to play the silent game. She just knew what the consequences would be. "Wanting but not daring" in full effect.
"You already have the answer to that question," she said, choosing her words carefully. "I advise you to proceed from it."
Uh-oh...
Looks like I was right after all. And wrong at the same time.
The problem exists. So colossal that one of the Ascended decided to spit on the rules and seek help from outside the known "habitats." Went to another universe… But why mine? Where Stargate is just a television-literary universe, not reality. And why did the choice fall on me? I'm not the best expert on that universe, and I don't have any fanatical obsession. I can't read, write, or count in the Ancient language; I don't understand the technology or the sciences. Just at a basic level.
Or… Is it because I agreed without any conditions that the Voice couldn't fulfill without breaking the rules too heavily? Whoever he was, he was clearly walking a razor's edge until he "slipped."
The Ancients let him break into another universe, pull me out of there… my consciousness? My soul? Basically, he took whatever makes me me. The Voice gave me a body, better than the one I had at the moment of death. I don't think he did it out of gratitude or because he had free time. During our conversation, he was in a hurry, as if he didn't have much time. There's probably a reason for that.
For example, the Ascended have already come for him, to hold him accountable for breaking the rules.
"Do you know why the Voice pulled me here?" I asked. I doubt Morgan would lie to my face.
The answer to that question would let me learn a lot.
"Yes," she said, looking away slightly.
"And you can't tell me about it?"
"Yes."
"Can't, or won't?" I blurted out.
Ganos Lal closed her eyes, and her face twisted for a moment into a grimace of irritation. The kind you see when a persistent little ant, just before a boot comes down on it, has been getting on the shoe owner's nerves for a long time.
But no answer came. So she doesn't want to answer. To either question.
"Whatever you say," I said, stopping next to my backpack and slinging it over my shoulder. "It was nice talking. Don't think ill of me. When everything here is flooded with water and Atlantis falls apart, please don't forget that you are the one responsible for me leaving. Right back at you!"
A provocateur is worse than most representatives of sexual deviancy, sure, but sometimes there's just no other way.
She wouldn't have contacted me if it weren't necessary. So it's not just her, but all the Ascended who need my help. I figure after they heard that Ganos Lal had been fooling them for thousands of years, they might have "pulled" her out of here for a private chat with "Comrade Major."
"You're leaving?" a surprised voice sounded behind me.
"Yes," I answered simply.
"But… Why?" Her face showed bewilderment.
"Because I have legs and I know how to use them," I said, and my shrug made her heave a heavy sigh of irritation. "I asked you for a conversation; I agreed that I wouldn't hear the most important thing. But you decided I shouldn't hear anything concrete at all. So why should I waste my time playing guessing games with you?"
"Because you asked for it yourself," she said.
"Oh, don't get on my nerves, Morgan," I smiled. "The Ancients, and even more so the Ascended, aren't altruists who respond to requests. Before you even hint at an answer, you test a person to see their true self. Well, maybe I failed the test, but thanks to you, I know for sure — you have a very big problem. So big that one of your kind went to another universe and started looking for someone who would get involved. And I wasn't the first one he approached. But I was the only one who agreed. So you have no alternatives."
"What makes you think that?" the Ascended's eyes flashed. "We can replace you at any moment…"
"Well," I spread my arms, "go ahead. Replace me. Or let some other Ascended take responsibility for directly interfering in my fate. Seems like you get punished for that. And I doubt they just put you in a corner."
"Rogue," she almost spat the word.
"I don't like it when people try to fool me," I admitted. "You talk to me like I'm a piece of furniture. It's only logical that I treat you the same way. And unlike you, I can go to the hangar, take any ship, and get out of this city. Remind me, how long until it sinks? Hours? Days? Are the gates locked against any incoming wormholes except from Earth? Is anyone going to come here to save the city? Will they make it, or will they die along with all your knowledge?"
"You won't get an answer to any of those questions," Ganos Lal cut me off. "Your arrogance has blinded you."
"Or," I smiled, "I'm using the situation to get what I want. Did you think of that?"
"I don't understand what you're trying to say."
"That if you had a chance to replace me with someone more obedient, you would have done it. If your problem weren't so large-scale, you wouldn't have sent me to Atlantis. There are plenty of ruins of your civilization in this galaxy. Any one of those planets would have worked. But no, the Voice incarnated me in the capital of your fallen state. A place with thousands of labs, projects ranging from the most harmless, like talking to local whales, to immoral ones, like social experiments on human settlements across the galaxy. Or, for example, how about the nano-virus that causes fatal hallucinations in anyone who doesn't have the Ancient Gene? Including the humans you created. I could list examples forever. But you get the gist — you're grasping at straws. And that's very interesting. You had to drag a man from another universe, even though you could easily have taken any other person in this galaxy — since the Milky Way is inaccessible — given them the Ancient Gene, taught them to use your technology, and sent them to do the job. So…"
"Enough!" Ganos Lal cut off my monologue in a quiet but commanding tone, barely containing her anger. "Get out of here!"
"Gladly!" I promised. "Right now, I'll take Janus's time machine and experiment with it. Probably not right away, but I'll definitely end up in Atlantis after you leave and live happily ever after. Still nine thousand years until the disaster… Good plan, huh, Morgan?"
The Ascended's figure lit up so brightly it looked like someone had suddenly added a couple hundred lumens per square meter to her. It became painful to look at her…
"I will not tolerate this!" she shouted, raising her hands, in which she was clutching something that looked like snow-white spheres. "He was wrong, and I will correct this mistake! Now!"
Honestly, my insides clenched. Paralyzed, I watched as the Ascended, who could practically destroy a planet with a snap of her fingers, prepared to unleash her wrath on me.
But she didn't get the chance.
Her figure became hazy, as if something invisible, but unstoppable, was pulling her back and up…
"Nooo!" Ganos Lal screamed.
Her silhouette blurred, began to multiply. But each copy became smaller and smaller than the original…
With a soft pop and a flash of light, the "hologram" of Morgan le Fay vanished from the hologram room.
That was basically how it happened.
Left alone, I felt a pang of guilt. My character isn't sugar-sweet, but life taught me not to let anyone ride me. And especially not to use me in the dark.
And that's exactly what Ganos Lal intended to do.
Which is strange. From the shows, I remembered her as a fairly peaceful woman who sympathized with the Earth cause. She risked herself and broke the rules of Ascension more than once to help in a tough moment. Even when she knew for sure the consequences would be unpleasant for her.
I was counting on that kind of attitude.
But we clearly couldn't find common ground. With every cell of my body, I felt that talking to me was unpleasant for her. As if I was standing before her in the mud, dirtying the sunlight.
Of course, maybe I'm just exaggerating, but…
Alright, it was worth trying to get answers. It didn't work.
So there's not much of a choice — time to leave the city before…
The podium where Ganos Lal had just vanished suddenly lit up. In the center of the room, a shapeless, snow-white something appeared, very similar to the Voice.
And just as I started to be glad that the familiar Ancient had arrived, the "cloud" took on the familiar outline of a hologram.
"I apologize for the actions of my compatriot," she said, giving a slight smile with just her lips… Melia. "We started off on the wrong foot, Mikhail. I assume an introduction isn't necessary?"
I suppose… This is something out of the ordinary.
* * *
Taking a deep breath, I turned my head towards the snow-white figure of the Ascended standing nearby.
"Tell me this is a joke."
"Unfortunately," a look of sorrow appeared on Melia's face. "It isn't. The very threat to the existence of all living things… this is no joking matter."
I can't argue with that.
What the Ancient told me… It made my brain boil.
"That doesn't explain why your Hippocrates summoned me from another universe," I muttered.
"Hippaforalkus," Melia corrected me. An interesting woman. Calm, kind, non-confrontational. I would have classified her as a hardcore phlegmatic, if not for the emotions showing on her face. I couldn't bring myself to say they were fake. "His name is Hippaforalkus. He was the general of our army during the war with the Wraith…"
Something about her, the way she held herself, the way she talked, the way she behaved, made me trust her. Compared to the unexpectedly stiff Ganos Lal, the former member of the Atlantis Council made an exceptionally positive impression.
I thought Morgan would act that way, but…
"I understand your confusion, Mikhail," the Ancient said. "Our community was also shocked by the general's actions. Ganos Lal… They were close. And his act, contradicting everything we fought for, what we believe in… It upset many."
"How can a desperate cry for help be upsetting?" I asked. "You told me that all the Ascended in the Milky Way have been destroyed. You don't know what's happening in a huge galaxy. The Earth expedition to Atlantis, which you foresaw, was supposed to happen several months ago, but nothing changed. And your most famous military commander decided to recruit someone for help. Since none of you were willing to become human again…"
"The process of Ascension isn't a yo-yo game," the Ancient retorted. Seeing the surprise on my face, she gave a modest smile. "Forgive me. I inadvertently sensed your thoughts…"
"It's fine," I waved it off, continuing to pace around the Ascended. "That's the least of my worries right now."
"Usually, people guard their thoughts from others," the Ancient noted. "However… Now I understand why the general turned to you for help."
"Because he could motivate me," I shrugged. "I needed what he could give me. And he needed someone who would agree. And, apparently, someone who has at least some idea of the conditions they'd be working in."
"Also, he saw in you an inquisitive, inventive mind, courage, a desire to see things through to the end," Melia listed. "This and much more. Perhaps you reminded him of himself in his younger years."
"Wouldn't it be easier to ask him?" I inquired. "You punished him in some elaborate way, but so he'd always be in sight…"
I didn't hear an answer, so I looked the Ancient in the face.
A mask of despair and mild panic was frozen on it.
It's not that I don't care, but…
"You didn't punish him," I whispered.
The Ascended gave a sad smile. She smiles suspiciously often during our conversation. I recall a smile is an attempt to win trust and make oneself liked.
"The rules of Ascension were written long before us," the Ancient said. "And the punishments for breaking them… are also great. Interfering in the affairs of living beings is just a minor crime in the eyes of the community. But traveling through time, influencing the space-time continuum… We watch over the universe we live in. And it's not in our interest to let it be turned into a dead wasteland," Melia assured me. "Influencing space and time almost always leads to a harsh reaction from the Ascended."
Now it's clear why, when the expedition from Earth arrived at Atlantis for the first time, died almost to a man, but managed to use the time machine of an Ancient named Janus, that fact — the visitor from the future — caused anger and condemnation from the other Lanteans. It wasn't just grumbling. They were afraid that those who had Ascended before them would punish the remnants of their civilization.
Weird society they have.
"And even more so — crossing the boundaries of universes…" Melia continued. "Few things can be worse than that. Such actions require more serious sanctions. Otherwise, there would be no discipline."
Hold on… what did they do to the Voice?! Ugh, to Hippaforalkus?!
"What did you do to him?!" I clenched my hands into fists and stepped towards the Ancient.
"Mikhail, I'm asking you to calm down. We both understand that this isn't really what interests you," the Ascended said. "The general fulfilled his part of the deal before he took you from your universe. Don't worry about that."
"Well, thank you for that. So, what did you do to him?"
There was still a chance I could find this guy and ask him a few questions. Sooner or later.
"I'm afraid I can't answer that question," a sorrowful expression appeared on Melia's face.
I get it. The answer would affect my future actions too directly. Telling me the truth would be practically the same as sending me to him, if Hippaforalkus survived.
"Alright, let's say that's the case," I said. "Though I doubt he pulled this off secretly from everyone…"
"He had like-minded people," Melia said. "They helped him breach the gaps between universes and carry out his plan."
"And they are…"
"Dead. The general completely exhausted their energy. No, it wasn't murder — according to our information, they took that step voluntarily. Sacrifice for a higher good."
"Oh, sure, of course. Quite an intricate combination," I admitted. "I'll say it again — it would have been much simpler to find an assistant here, in Pegasus. I'm sure you have descendants here with the Ancient Gene."
"You know perfectly well that they exist," Melia said. "Just as you know that they are hardly developed enough to accept the fact of Atlantis's existence and the technologies contained within it at the required level. And we, unfortunately, don't have time to train them. Besides, the general acted tactically correctly. There hasn't been a violation of the space-time continuum of this magnitude since the beginning of time… He knew the Consensus wouldn't react immediately to such interference. And he accounted for the fact that the appearance of well-known and prepared people from other realities in Atlantis would attract our attention sooner than placing a consciousness from another universe into a body created in Atlantis."
"Why?"
"Moving objects and organisms between universes has a detrimental effect on the recipient universe," the Ancient said. "Realities vibrate at a certain frequency. Moving a part of one reality into another causes significant distortions. The longer it goes on, the more terrible the consequences."
Running her words through my head, I clarified:
"You answered because you know I won't be able to use this knowledge, right?"
"We will stop you if you try to cross the boundaries of universes," Melia promised. "I assure you, we won't limit ourselves to simple suggestion. Stopping such violations is in our interest."
"Why?"
"If we don't do it, others will," the Ascended said.
Yeah, yeah… For the show's heroes, everything somehow happened without the Ascended lecturing them. Maybe because some people are "allowed" and others are "not"? Because the first are meant to do what is planned so the universe gets the right push. While the actions of others would only lead to negativity?
Melia looked me in the eyes and smiled.
"You understand," she stated. "That's good. I think you will agree to help us."
"You?" I was surprised.
"Despite the fact that the general is no longer an enti…" she stopped herself mid-word. "The general can no longer influence reality, but what he did what he did for won't resolve itself."
"I suppose it's out of place for me to suggest you go to the Milky Way galaxy yourself and figure everything out?"
"When the anomaly first manifested itself, we did just that," the Ancient assured me. "None of the scouts returned. As far as we understand, whatever is killing the Ascended in the Milky Way operates on a regular basis."
"Merlin's device?" I guessed.
Moros, also known as Merlin, created the Sangraal — a mechanism that killed Ascended beings. But Ganos Lal destroyed the device. Though she spared the life of the one who created it.
"We don't know," Melia admitted. "That's why we are asking you to find out the nature of the threat. And eliminate it."
"In other words, save your lives," I said.
"Exactly," the woman nodded. "The anomaly is slowly expanding. It won't be very long before it reaches Pegasus."
"How long?"
"I'm afraid we don't know that."
"What do you mean?" I was surprised. "There must be a pattern of expansion, right?"
"There is," another guilty smile.
"But I have to find that out on my own, don't I?" I squinted.
"I'm afraid so," she grew sad. "These are not our whims. These are the rules of the Ascended."
"Which you are not prepared to break, even to save yourselves?" I was surprised.
"Yes."
"Your survival instinct seems to be a bit off," I muttered. "Any living being, if it's in its right mind, worries about its survival. Sure, you're more developed than ordinary people, but that doesn't mean…"
"I'm afraid it does," Melia said. "To become Ascended means to renounce earthly attachments, obligations, and laws. The release of spiritual energy to transition to a new level of being."
"Uh-huh… And I'm hearing this because Ascension doesn't threaten me? Right?"
"The probability of that… is minimal."
"But it exists!"
"The magnitude of the probability is such that it's usually called an error," Melia tilted her head slightly. "I think you understand why."
Oh, I understood.
"Because my character doesn't allow me to run from problems completely," I said. "To fight while there's a chance. The general wouldn't have called for help from someone who would step aside at the first convenient opportunity."
"You are a smart man, Mikhail. At least in matters of life philosophy."
Could that be considered a stiff mockery? I don't think so.
"How much longer will the shield hold?" I asked.
"I can't answer that question."
Too many questions. And the categorical understanding that I won't get answers.
Sad.
"I could use some kind of help," I said. "Without knowledge of your language, understanding of the technology… Finding the problem could take years. That could cost you your lives."
"We are willing to take that risk," the Ascended said. "I understand your desire to make things easier for yourself. But to go further than Hippaforalkus did… We simply don't have the right. That would be interference. But I am confident you will find a way out of this situation. You are already lucky," she spread her hands, "you are in Atlantis. Our home, the repository of our knowledge. What greater help could there be?"
"Even a slightly charged ZPM would have been decent help," I admitted.
Melia gave me a sympathetic look. The kind you give a child who is spouting nonsense to their parents' faces… Even though both the child and the parents know the truth, the performance must be seen through to the end.
"I understand," I sighed. "Save a drowning man is the business of the drowning man himself."
"In this case, you can take that expression literally," Melia assured me. "Believe me, Mikhail, I am sorry that neither I nor my comrades can help you any further."
I wanted to reply with Stanislavsky's words, but somehow my mood for joking evaporated.
Not only did clarifying the situation just add depressive moments, but I didn't even get any direct help — not even hints were given. Just "you can handle it on your own, soldier! Here's a rifle with no bullets, and over there is the enemy army — bayonet them all!"
"If several months have passed since the expedition from Earth was supposed to arrive, then how do you explain the fact that I saw the city flooding? Exactly as in the series. Shouldn't it have happened earlier?"
"A misconception," Melis stated. "The expedition consisted of several hundred people. And immediately after arrival, they spread out over a large area of the city, forcing its systems to awaken urgently to provide suitable conditions for the existence of a large contingent of sentient beings. Not to mention," she looked at the switched-off hologram control terminal, "that this device, the stasis chamber, and a number of other systems that were used in the events you know of when the expedition arrived, consume a large amount of energy. The cascade activation of some systems triggered others — and so on throughout the city. You managed to avoid that — for now. But luck is just the remainder of a project, isn't it?"
I understand what she's talking about.
In the series, the expedition definitely played Melis's informative voice message a couple of times to understand the situation. Plus, the stasis chamber was used to keep alive the very first head of the expedition who, in the original events, went back in time. And I think that's just the tip of the iceberg of examples of wasting scarce energy.
"Atlantis's computer, to compensate for the energy loss from powering all systems when the expedition arrived, reduced the size of the shield covering the city, right?" I asked.
"Correct. In your case, this happened due to the activation of the assembly device," the Ascended said. "So, the energy expenditure indicators in your case are even lower than in the events you know. So, the current energy levels of the city's batteries are the same as they were after the expedition arrived. The only difference is that you activated fewer of the city's systems, and therefore, until complete depletion, you have a little more time than the Earthlings had."
"At least some pluses," I grumbled. Then I clarified: "So, right now we are exactly in that time period when the expedition was supposed to arrive the first time, and drown in full force?"
"Yes."
My guess about Janus's machine and the "primacy" of the expedition turned out to be correct. As did everything it entailed: the absence of a city-saving system when the ZPMs, or "batteries" as Melia called them, ran dry.
"So what happens next?"
"I can't answer that question."
"Then let's just speculate," I suggested. "If Atlantis doesn't fall into Earth's hands, they won't improve their position in the war, won't find a weapon against their enemies, and so on. That would lead to defeat, right?"
"If humanity in the Milky Way is even still alive," Meilis corrected me. "But we know absolutely nothing about that."
Interesting. Some of her answers aren't so "evasive." It seems the Ancient is walking the edge and sharing whatever information she has.
"Hm… I won't say the fact that the expedition didn't interfere with the Wraith hibernation saddens me," I admitted. "Maybe the locals will live in peace for another fifty years."
"Only if the anomaly doesn't reach Pegasus sooner," Melia noted.
What a soulful woman, huh? Doesn't let you forget about the higher purpose.
"And what will you do if I just pack up and leave here?" I asked. "If I don't do what I agreed to do."
"Nothing," Melia answered calmly. "We do not interfere in the affairs of living beings."
"You don't interfere directly," I clarified. "So, if you accidentally push a brick somewhere, you're not to blame that I'll be walking below exactly when it falls on my head. Right?"
The Ascended just smiled.
I was starting to dislike her facial expressions.
"Well," I said dryly. "I shouldn't expect any more help from you, I get that. Anyway, thanks for the talk. If you get bored, drop by for a visit. We'll have some tea, eat some of this," I took a protein bar out of my backpack and twirled it between my fingers. "Whatever it is."
"I never liked them," Melia admitted. "Potentially, they were supposed to solve the problem of our limited food resources. But… their taste is… very specific."
"So you made them from bad raw materials," I shrugged.
"When you're under siege, even whale blubber doesn't seem disgusting," the Ancient assured me.
And for some reason, I lost my appetite. Maybe because I remembered — the Lanteans taught the local whales to communicate with them. And then they ate them.
I sighed resignedly.
"Friendship is magic," I muttered the clichéd phrase, putting the bar back in my backpack. "And magic, as we know, is heresy…"
Melia smiled a little wider.
"Exactly what Morus once said about the proposal to install water fountains in every corridor," she said, for no apparent reason. "He was a conservative Lantean. But, although he reduced the number of installations, he still considered the idea of quantitatively expanding the devices that supply desalinated water to the public areas of the city to be worthwhile."
"If you suddenly feel nostalgic for the past, you're welcome to join," I said hospitably, gesturing toward the exit of the hologram room. "I wouldn't mind the company. And I assure you, I come from an intelligent family, so I won't pester you."
Melia looked at me with a surprised expression. Her smile became unnatural—the kind that happens when you realize your conversation partner has just spouted some rare nonsense, but you don't want to offend them.
"Thank you for the offer," she said. "I'm afraid I must decline. My mortal path is complete. Potentially, it's a good offer, but... only potentially."
"Why?" I asked.
"I'm afraid I can't answer that question..."
"There aren't enough of you," it dawned on me. "There weren't that many Ancients living in Pegasus to begin with, and then you returned to the Milky Way. And there you Ascended... And then the anomaly happened..."
Melia stopped smiling.
"Your intellect potentially frightens me," she said. "Was that a guess or a conclusion?"
"Something in between," I muttered, digging through my memory. "Ascended beings don't just burn incense on their level of existence, do they?"
"I'm not sure I understand..."
"The reason you missed Hippaforalkus's actions," I snapped my fingers. "If you weren't busy with anything, you would have seen that he was plotting something. But you were occupied. And what could beings of pure energy be busy with when nothing mortal interests them anymore?"
Melia looked at me without a trace of a smile.
"In the show, the Ascended Ori told one of the heroes that the Ancients were busy hiding a galaxy populated by their descendants from the Ori's gaze," I said, looking into her eyes. "You wouldn't let them see the people they could convert to their faith. That's why none of you were in the Milky Way when the anomaly started. Some were covering their people from the Ori, others were covering Pegasus. That's why you're not omnipresent and omniscient. That's why rules get broken—there are too few of you to keep track of everything, even within one tiny galaxy like Pegasus. Concealing galaxies drains a huge amount of your energy..."
Can a being made of light turn pale?
Turns out, yes.
"You don't have to answer, Melia," I said. "Everything's clear."
Not absolutely everything, but... Now I know: the Ascended won't be able to react to my actions instantly. Some of them will have to "leave their post" to stop me.
And that already opens up room for maneuver. A very large room, just in case I don't want to help them.
"It seems we underestimated you," Melia said in a voice devoid of any emotion. "Your intuition is well-developed."
"And I'm not complaining about my brains either," I nodded, watching her close her eyes for a few seconds. "Did you warn your kin that I've learned too much?"
"Enough, but not enough to decide on your elimination or a rule violation," the woman said. "We simply took some measures to prevent you from making the situation worse."
"Like what?"
"I'm sorry, but you have one fewer ship now."
And you'd never guess from her face that she's sorry.
"Janus's time machine," I guessed. "You took away my chance to leave with a bang."
"Rather, we prevented irreversible violations of the spacetime continuum and timeline changes," she recited. "Potentially, that's far more dangerous than you simply leaving Atlantis to save yourself instead of the city. It will be a shame if you do that."
Well, of course.
Because I was hoping to eventually figure that thing out and improve my position by taking things from the past that I needed now. For example, the ZPMs that were depleted in this time but still held a charge in deep antiquity. Supplies of ammunition, ships, finding certain technologies before they fell into enemy hands.
"Only you're not sorry for me, but for yourselves, aren't you?" I asked. "Because if I leave, you'll have to get your hands really dirty to try to fix the situation again, won't you?"
Melia was silent. Her answer wasn't needed anyway—everything was clear.
"You're afraid," I continued voicing my guesses. "You're still afraid of dying from the anomaly. But you don't want to—or have convinced yourselves you can't—abandon your post as Ascended. So you act through mortals. All you need is not to burn yourselves while manipulating cause and effect..."
"Now you know," she said.
"I know," I echoed. "You're helpless. Almost. Which means, if I face any punishment for my actions, it will come much later than I do something you don't like... For example, if I abandon a dying city, you won't strike me down with lightning on the spot."
"Potentially, the city can still be saved!" she nearly shouted. "Its potential is enormous! I'm asking you to reconsider! If Atlantis survives, you'll have at your disposal not just potentially, but actually, a real advanced scientific and military base."
"One that didn't even help you defeat a more understandable enemy, the Wraiths," I sighed. "And that was ten thousand years ago. Now, the city's potency isn't nearly..."
"You simply don't see the potental benefit of preserving Atlantis," Melia declared. "You're afraid of the potental problems you'll face."
"What's this 'potental benefit'?" I was surprised. "Is it really that hard to speak my native language?"
"No," she cut me off. "I didn't make a mistake. You're simply unable to grasp your own and the city's full potential..."
There was an awful lot of "potential" in her speech. And "potentia" too, even though that's not even a Russian word, but...
I stopped dead in my tracks, shifting a bewildered gaze to Melia floating before me.
What did she say? "Potentially the city can be saved"? "Potental benefit of preserving Atlantis"?
When hints weren't enough, she'd moved on to practically blatant clues.
"Potential, you say?" I asked, squinting. "I won't argue, the city has potential. And I'm worth something too. But if I weren't alone here, if I had, say, a whole potential brotherhood ready to keep my secrets and abilities even at the cost of their lives... This castle would have stood even ten thousand years."
Melia opened her mouth to say something in response, but froze. Blinking a couple of times, the Ascended woman gave a timid smile and barely perceptibly nodded at me. She showed she understood that I'd understood her hints.
They were potential answers, not hints.
The hint was more than transparent, and if it weren't for my thoughts circling around the energy and ZPM problems, I'd never have gotten it. It seemed the Lantean woman understood that and hinted as much as she could. Then, seeing I wasn't getting it, she deliberately distorted the word to trigger an associative chain.
"You understood correctly," she said. "Save Atlantis, and any endeavor of yours will be successful. The city..."
."..has great potential," I finished for her, grinning from ear to ear. Well, of course—what an idiot I was.
There was a chance to save the city. And the answer was practically right on the surface. If I hadn't been so busy with self-reflection, I'd have thought of it ages ago.
"You're thinking correctly," the Ancient said, as if reading my thoughts. "I'm glad you understand the significance of our legacy and the threat posed by the unknown enemy in the Milky Way. I hope you agree to carry out the mission you've taken upon yourself?"
Something tells me the time for bargaining is over.
But the time for ultimatums isn't.
"I agree," I assured her. "But I have a few conditions."
The smile vanished from Melia's face the moment she heard the first one.
But she and her companions simply had no opportunity to refuse.