Consciousness returned with a jolt.
The survivor's eyes flew open, but before he realized where he was, the Wraith commander was already on his feet. Only then did he understand that he was no longer on the planet where he had spent long years. Moreover, all his protection had been removed, leaving him only in a leather everyday suit. And the multiple tears and holes in his chest area hinted at the reason he had lost consciousness in that battle.
He wasn't on the small Lantean ship he had seen either — the room he was in was far too spacious. And it had a very distinctive interior that left no room for doubt.
He was in a cell of Lantean design. A spacious cube with metal bars and energy barriers between them stood in a vast room, its perimeter lost in darkness, creating an oppressive atmosphere.
"Ah," came a voice from the darkness that dominated the corners of the spacious prison. "Finally awake."
The survivor shot a quick glance at the man stepping out of the shadows.
"You!" the survivor's hoarse bass roared when he saw the all-too-familiar young man who had lured him into a trap on the desert planet. "I'll kill you and drain your life!"
"Yeah," the man grinned crookedly, pacing around the cage. In his hands he held some kind of red fruit, cutting small slices from it with a small knife. "You already tried that. And here I am," he gestured at the space outside the prison, "and you're in there. My name is Mikhail, by the way."
The survivor bared his teeth as the man casually pointed out that the Wraith was a prisoner. Concentrating, the commander directed all his mental power at the human's mind.
It was time for the young Lantean to feel fear before his future killer! He would soon be screaming in terror, looking around paranoically, giving the survivor the pleasure of human panic and horror.
A wonderful entertainment for Wraiths... Except, for some reason, nothing happened. The man remained relaxed, showing no reaction to the projected foreign rustles, sounds, or translucent shadows attacking from the darkness projected into his mind. Nothing at all!
It was disconcerting.
"Oh, give it a rest," the man grimaced. "I've already seen a couple of times how Wraiths project hallucinations onto their victims. Impressive, but not as effective the second time around."
"You couldn't survive even one encounter with a Wraith!" the survivor didn't believe him.
"Koschei," the Lantean looked at the prisoner with sympathy. "You saw for yourself what our meeting turned into. And the first time, I put a hole in a Wraith the size of a Teletubby's head."
"How?!"
"Lantean Impulse Blaster," the man turned so the prisoner could see the familiar weapon on his hip. "Timeless classic. No matter how much regenerative reserve a Wraith has, you can't regrow half your body. Especially if you shoot them in the head."
"What do you want, human?!" the survivor demanded. "Why are you keeping me prisoner?"
"Jumping straight to the bargaining stage already?" the man put on a surprised face. "What about anger, denial, and all that?"
"Why are you wasting time?" the Wraith asked.
"I'm just messing with you," the man shrugged. "Ever heard of establishing personal rapport?"
"Your tactics won't work on me," the survivor declared proudly.
"Well, I've got plenty of time," the man shrugged. "Koschei... By the way, tell me — do you have a real name?"
"I don't care what you call me, human," the survivor said irritably.
"Then I dub thee Koschei," the Lantean announced. "You two have something in common. Neither of you can die, and you both have an egg. Only our Koschei had a needle in his egg, while yours explodes."
With these words, the man pulled an oval object made of dull material from his pocket.
"Recognize this?" the Lantean asked. "Found it while searching the remains of your crew on the crashed ship. Thanks, by the way. Nice piece of technology. Can be used as a grenade or a mine. It'll come in handy. We found about a dozen, but how hard is it to replicate? Especially since it's entirely mechanical, not organic like what your people usually make. Remnants of former greatness, eh, Koschei?"
A Wraith grenade.
"I don't negotiate with food!"
"Your loss," the man wagged a finger. "See, I made a deal with this apple," he pointed at the fruit, "that it would be tasty and nutritious. And the apple helped me as best it could. Well, truth be told, not me, but our trading partners. But that's not the point. I think you understand what I'm getting at."
"I understand," the survivor narrowed his eyes. "You want to persuade me to cooperate."
"Cooperation beats getting bent over, trust me," the man declared. "And in the latter case, that position would be followed by a colonoscopy. You see, we have enough blood samples from you, but your internal organs — now that would be really interesting to study."
The survivor, now called Koschei, looked at his limbs. He spotted the injection mark on his right arm almost immediately.
"What do you need my blood for, human?!" he asked slowly, suspicion in his voice. Biological material could be used in hundreds of different ways — and not all of them were benevolent. Especially toward a blood enemy.
"Oh, I see you've found the path to constructive dialogue," the man smirked. "Want to play question-and-answer? First I ask, you answer, then you can ask. Maybe if I like your cooperation, you'll get an answer too."
"I won't reveal the secrets of my race!" Koschei declared.
"We already know about a hundred of your secrets," the man shrugged. "After all, we've had ten thousand years to figure out your race's technology."
Koschei froze, processing the information.
"Ten thousand years?" he repeated cautiously.
"Plus or minus," the man admitted. "Depends on which planet's orbit you take as a reference point. But I think you get the gist: you slept for a very long time. And none of your kind gave a damn about you. I'm sure they saw your ship crash on Lantea-2."
"What is Lantea-2?" Koschei asked. He had a guess which planet he meant, but he was stalling for time to process the information in his mind.
"There are only two planets in the Lantean system," the man enlightened him. As if the Wraith didn't already know that! "We're currently at the bottom of Lantea, the first planet from the local star. And the desert planet where you crashed, in my opinion, deserves the name Lantea-2. What do you think?"
"Not very creative," the Wraith replied.
"I wasn't going for originality," the man admitted. "But it's simpler than 'the sandy planet where a transport ship with a failed commander crashed in full view of the entire fleet, and nobody even sent rescuers.' Looks like your own people really didn't like you..."
"You speak of things you don't know, human," Koschei laughed. "My ship was shot down far from the fleet. We thought we had destroyed all the Lantean battle satellites. But one survived and caught my transport. I almost destroyed it, but I didn't have time."
"Speaking of which," the man said, as if remembering something. "We first thought your fighters had done it. But when we examined the ship, we saw it only had small cannons, like the ones on the Darts. And your story immediately cleared up a few gaps: why no one came for you, why the satellite wasn't fully destroyed, and why no one picked up your emergency beacon. Thanks for clearing up that historical mystery."
"Is that all you want from me, human?" the Wraith asked. About the fact that he had managed to assemble an emergency beacon from various parts and only connected it years into his stay on Lantea-2, he decided not to mention.
"Just the beginning, Koschei," the Lantean admitted. "As you can see, you're the first Wraith in ten thousand years to end up in Atlantis..."
"So that's where we are," Koschei realized.
The Wraith remained silent. He already suspected the man wanted something from him. Otherwise, Koschei would already be dead.
"You may have defeated the Lanteans, but that didn't lead to final victory," Mikhail continued. "As you can see, we're here, we survived, we're flying around our home star system quite peacefully. Meanwhile, your people didn't exactly rush to look for you."
"They'll come as soon as they find out you've crawled out from under the ocean," Koschei said confidently. "And then nothing will stop them from finishing what they started! This time they'll be ready for all surprises! And they'll know how you defend yourselves, what resources you have... You can't win! Surrender to my mercy, and I'll spare the most useful among you!"
"Wow!" Mikhail laughed. "You've got no shortage of self-esteem, Koshcheyushka. But your offer is crap, I don't like it, and I won't be taking it. But," the man raised his index finger, "I have a counteroffer. Ever heard of the two-chair scenario?"
"No," the Wraith admitted.
"And you probably don't have a mother either," the Lantean nodded to his own thoughts. "With regeneration like yours, both the peaks and... the other option are the same to you. But never mind," he looked fearlessly into the survivor's eyes. "Option one. We keep you here and slowly take you apart. You'll serve science studying Wraith physiology and capabilities. Not voluntarily, of course, but..."
"You won't make me!" the Wraith declared confidently.
"Before making statements like that, if I were you, I'd think about how we managed to get you from Lantea-2 to Atlantis without you even waking up," Mikhail said in an oily voice. "Hint — the Wraith stunner had nothing to do with it."
Koschei ignored the taunt. It took great effort. Even though he understood the man was deliberately provoking him, that Koschei had let something slip, the Wraith could barely keep his temper under control.
"The second chair," Mikhail continued. "You cooperate with us voluntarily. When someone asks you something, you answer. When they ask you to do something, you do it."
"And why would I do that?" the Wraith wondered. "Torture means nothing to me. I can endure any pain. And when my brethren come, they'll grant me the right to take your life."
"Even if they come, it won't save you," the man said. "They couldn't break through our defenses ten years ago. And they won't be able to now."
"You can comfort yourself with that hope!" the Wraith laughed. "When I get free..."
"You'll only be able to leave here in one case," Mikhail interrupted him, "if I decide you can be trusted and you pose no danger to us. In every other case, my dear life-sucker, the best you can hope for is to leave this cell as a corpse. Or be sent for experiments."
"That's what you think!"
"I know it," Mikhail assured him. "I'm sure you're counting on your mental tricks. What's more, you've probably sensed the presence of a Wraith among us..."
Koschei bared his teeth.
"I hasten to disappoint you," the man put on a concerned face. "That's not a Wraith. Just a woman with your DNA."
"That's impossible! An abomination!" Koschei grimaced.
"That's what your kin thought too when they learned one of you had decided to give humans Wraith genes," the Lantean informed him. "He thought it would make humans tastier. They didn't get tastier, but the other Wraiths got angry at the renegade and destroyed him. Some of his test subjects survived. And now they can sense Wraiths. Give it a little time, and we'll train our friend to maintain mental contact with you. And then everything stored in your skull will be at our disposal. And you'll no longer be needed."
"It would take you hundreds of years to do something like that!" Koschei declared. But he wasn't confident in the truth of his own words.
"Oh really?" Mikhail smiled. "Let me remind you, Koshcheyushka. We built the Stargate. We created flying cities. We also had a hand in your creation. And now, after ten thousand years, we don't have much sympathy for Wraiths. If you get in our way — and you will — we'll simply destroy you!"
"I'd love to see how you'd manage that, human." Koschei rushed up to the bars opposite where Mikhail stood. But his actions didn't frighten the man. He didn't even flinch. "Before, there were thousands of you. Dozens of races served you. Hundreds of ships fought against us. And we won! And now," he looked triumphantly at his interlocutor, "there are fewer than a dozen of you in this whole city! Six people! Three of them females! Your strength is laughable! One cruiser would be enough to capture you!"
"Are you sure about that? That there are only six of us. We're actually shielding a significant portion of the city."
"It's impossible to hide from the power of our minds!" the Wraith declared. "No shields will help you! I know how many you are! And I know that as soon as my brethren come here, I'll tell them everything I've learned about you. Even if you kill me, the Wraith that feeds on you will know that I did this for my people! Atlantis will fall!"
They stared at each other for a moment, then the man smiled.
"Well, there — you're already cooperating," he stated.
"What are you talking about?" the Wraith wondered.
"Your race can maintain mental contact over a distance," Mikhail reminded him. "A significant distance. But there's no one nearby. Not a single Wraith. Which means we're safe."
"That's just what you think."
"Just like you think you have a choice," the man said in an icy tone. "Tell me, Koshcheyushka, when you were bragging about your mental abilities, did you foolishly tell me there are only six of us, or were you just trying to show off?"
The Wraith snarled but remained silent.
"And so, my friend, we've discovered another small quirk of your race," Mikhail declared with a smile. "You can't sense those who are in stasis. And it doesn't matter whose stasis technology it is — Lantean or Wraith."
"You're talking nonsense, human!" Koschei said confidently. "We are strong and sense everything!"
"Then why didn't you, the 'all-powerful' one, sense our prisoners in the Stasis Pods?" Mikhail inquired. "Or, for example, the Wraith on that same planet with you?"
"I sensed your woman with Wraith genes!"
"I wasn't talking about her," the Lantean clarified. "You see, you're not the only Wraith who crashed on a ship in this star system. There's another one. Or rather, another — the queen of the great Wraith alliance who led the attack on Atlantis."
"Death Queen?" the Wraith commander was taken aback. "You're lying! She died at the very beginning of the siege!"
"You can comfort yourself with that assumption all you want," the man assured him. "But I'm telling the truth. I can feel your brain melting. Your society has a strict hierarchy. Commanders obey queens. And you obeyed. And right next to you, your queen is stored — one of the first Wraiths in the galaxy. And you, pathetic and useless, can't reach her. Must be hard realizing you're unwanted and worthless?"
"I'll kill you, human!" the Wraith snarled. He didn't waste time on elaborate threats, keeping his answers short. He needed strength to send mental search queries into space. If a queen was nearby, as this animal claimed, they could make mental contact. And together they could devise a plan...
His mind felt like it was doused with ice water.
The Wraith shuddered, blinked, shook his head. Something had happened. His mental abilities had suddenly hit a barrier he couldn't overcome. No matter how hard he tried, his fiery mind was surrounded by an icy wall. He couldn't even sense anyone beyond this cell.
"How's that feel?" Mikhail asked curiously. "Judging by the confused look on your face, I can see our device worked."
"What device?!" Koschei snarled.
"The one that managed to recognize your brainwaves and block your mental abilities," the man explained readily. "Now you can't do anything, oh 'all-powerful' one. Share your feelings — what's it like to be imprisoned both in body and mind?"
"Step into my cell and find out," the Wraith rumbled. "I promise that before I drain the life from you, I'll tell you everything I know. I'll help your science."
"You still don't get it?" the Lantean wondered. Koschei looked at him suspiciously. "There you go — the 'all-powerful' race has messed up again. You're already serving our science. Whether you want to or not, we'll get everything we want from you."
"Then why did you offer me a choice?" the Wraith wondered.
"First, to buy time so the equipment could lock onto your brainwaves," the man explained. "That will allow us to strip you of your mental tricks on the human mind. Also, it's a demonstration that we can uncover your secrets on our own."
"Then why are you trying to persuade me to cooperate?" Koschei wondered.
"Don't you understand?" the man wondered. "All of this takes time. But if you cooperate, you'll have a chance not to die on an autopsy table as a lab rat."
"What's a rat?"
"An animal," the Lantean explained. "Specifically bred by our scientists to test various drugs, vaccines, and so on. A useful thing. But it's not a Wraith, and you can't test various types of biological weapons against your race on it... But you — that's a different story."
"Trying to scare me?" Koschei narrowed his eyes.
"I'm laying out the possibilities," Mikhail clarified. "You understand yourself that almost any Wraith would serve our purposes. Even a Wraith soldier. Sure, he's a bit dull, but we don't need a genius here."
"But you don't have a Wraith soldier," Koschei reminded him. "And besides, he would need to be controlled!"
"How convenient, then, that we have our own person with Wraith DNA?" Mikhail beamed. "And scanning your mind during mental work helped us identify the brain regions we need to develop in her."
"Wraiths and humans are nothing alike!"
"You're wrong, my ancient hungry friend. You originated from an Irus bug that fed on a human. We have far more in common than you'd like to admit. So we'll learn to control Wraith soldiers and strip you of your mental tricks. For starters. Then we'll find a way to shut down all the gates in the galaxy and activate the Attero device. Need me to remind you what will happen to your hyperdrives?"
Koschei let out a deafening roar, striking the barrier in impotent rage.
"That device destabilizes the frequencies of our hyperdrives!" he barked. "Any of our starships that enter a hyperspace window will be destroyed."
"Exactly," Mikhail nodded. "The Ancients activated it, tested it, but turned it off because its operation also affects the Stargate network. They explode when activated while the Attero device is running. And destroy planets. What a disaster... But imagine how easy it would be for us to wipe you all out if we could neutralize the negative side effects. The gates would survive, your ships would either explode or be unable to use hyperdrives. And our ships would just need to hunt you down one by one and destroy you. We could carry out such an extermination for years. After all, you couldn't escape us through the gates or on your ships."
"Since our organic hyperdrives simply can't have another operating frequency," Koschei concluded. "Ruthless."
"My point exactly," Mikhail nodded. "As you can see, our tactics have changed over ten thousand years. Cooperate, and I'll spare your life. What's more, who knows, we might become allies. You could lead some hive that becomes supreme over the others. Together we'd eliminate the excess Wraiths, and your hive would always have enough humans to feed on. Of course, if you so much as look at us wrong, we'll tear you apart."
"Since when do Lanteans negotiate with Wraiths?" Koschei asked suspiciously. "You're offering me cooperation, my own hive, even willing to provide humans for feeding... There are only six of you — what can you possibly achieve?!"
"For example, study your physiology, find out exactly what circumstances facilitate feeding and correct them," the man said. "Then, while the other Wraiths are in hibernation — which is where they are now — we'll spread the medicine across all your feeding grounds. And when the Wraiths come for food, it'll taste bad to them. Maybe even poisonous. You'll die off one by one."
"We'd rather exterminate the planets where the food is contaminated!" the surviving Wraith laughed. "We'd wipe out dozens of civilizations, but the rest would remain our feeding base. Everything would fall into place. The weak would die, the strong would become even stronger."
"Yes, that would work," the man smirked. "If only a few planets get the vaccine. But what if all of them do?"
Koschei bared his teeth.
"Wraiths still have about fifty years of sleep left," the man calculated. "In that time, the vaccinated populations will see one or two generations born, maybe more. And all of them will inherit the anti-feeding treatment. And we, safe here, will simply watch you starve to death. But you can stop my plans for your extermination. Just give me what I need."
"You're asking me to help you, to reveal my race's secrets so you can destroy us more efficiently, instead of getting the information from me involuntarily?" Koschei realized, noticing the Lantean pull a scanner from his pocket and turn something on. In the far corner of the cell room, some lights flickered on and off.
Now he had no doubt left. The cell was kept half-lit to hide the equipment the humans had installed here. While Mikhail stalled for time, they were scanning and studying him, gathering every piece of data they could.
If this kept up, he would become completely useless to them. And then they would kill him.
Or else they were offering him a chance to become a traitor, to cooperate so he could help them destroy his race more efficiently. If the other Wraiths found out about this, he would become their number-one target. Cooperating with humans, helping them fight against his own brothers... That was a crime of the highest order.
All he had to do was agree, and there would be no turning back. The first Wraith Commander or Queen who learned what he had done would kill him.
There weren't many options — either refuse and die once he stopped being useful, or help them, study them, and look for a way to escape. If he could also take valuable knowledge with him.
"Hmm," Mikhail's voice rang out. "What interesting information you're giving me, dear friend."
"What are you talking about?"
"I already told you we're scanning you, didn't I?"
"You did."
"Well, we found out something," the Lantian tapped his device's display. "That Wraiths inject humans with a special enzyme during feeding that makes them stronger for a certain period of time."
A bit of Wraith physiology.
Koschei instinctively hissed a threat through his half-open jaws. What else had these people managed to learn from him? Koschei casually turned his right hand to look at the spot beneath his skin where the enzyme sac sat. Yes, there was a needle puncture there too. They had also taken a sample of his feeding enzyme.
And this was only the beginning!
"And I got curious," Mikhail mused, pacing around the cell. "Why would you make us stronger during feeding? Helping your food while you eat, giving them strength... It certainly doesn't smell like altruism on your part. I think there's something else going on. Come on, Koschei, don't keep me in suspense — help me brainstorm. You're starting to realize it yourself: either you walk into the noose right now, or later you'll answer to your own kind for helping us understand Wraiths and find a way to destroy them. They killed your comrade who was trying to make humans 'tastier' without a moment's hesitation."
"What guarantee do I have that by helping you, I won't be giving you a weapon against my own people?" the Wraith asked.
"My word."
"The word of a human," the Wraith laughed. "And what is that supposed to mean?"
"Exactly as much as yours," Mikhail cooled his ardor. "The fact is, I only need you for a few experiments, nothing more. Help me, and I'll help you. Refuse, and I'll take you apart base pair by base pair and stabilize the weapon that will destroy you all."
"Stabilize?" A rumbling roar tore from Koschei's throat. "You said you were planning to create it. So you already have one?"
"There's a prototype belonging to a race living in Pegasus," the man replied. "You understand I won't give you their name or their world's coordinates. But I can visit them and help refine it. With our technology... By the way, you realize testing will be required. Feeling like volunteering?"
"Raaah!" the Wraith barked, pulling back from the cage. "Don't think you've cornered me, human! Cooperating with you means death for me!"
"Of course," Mikhail snorted. "And refusing means death too. But as I said — if you cooperate, you have a much better chance of getting rid of everyone who could hurt you."
"You want to destroy most, if not all, of my race, and you think I'll help you?" Koschei snarled.
"I think," Mikhail said quietly, "that you didn't drain the life from the humans on your ship and kill your own crew just to die on a lab table. You want to live. Same as all of us. I'm offering you a chance to survive and grow stronger. Imagine — instead of you having to deal with rival hives, our ships handle it. You eliminate the other contenders for the Feeding Grounds and become the most powerful Wraith in the galaxy."
"A Wraith whose life and position depend on whether you expose our cooperation," Koschei smirked. "Not a very pleasant prospect. I don't believe you'll allow even my hive to keep feeding on humans. They're your descendants! That would be inhumane by your standards!"
"Yes," Mikhail said without blinking. "But imagine — we have enemies among humans too. And as you noticed, there aren't many of us. What would you say if I fed you the coordinates of planets where my enemies are settled? You could feed on them without any problems. And my ships won't show up in orbit to spank your regenerating rear. Isn't that a deal?"
"One day, the enemies will run out," the Wraith noted. "There aren't that many humans in the galaxy. And the Pegasus Galaxy isn't that big."
"Enemies never run out," Mikhail countered. "But don't worry about the future, my friend. You can always create new humans."
"We destroyed the device the Ancients used to populate the galaxy," Koschei recalled. "And we don't have millions of years for you to build a new one and seed new life."
"Why would we need new humans?" the man clarified. "There are plenty of ways to increase the human population. Or, by studying your physiology, we could give humans vaccinations — not to kill you when you feed, but to keep them from dying during feeding. Then the main reason humans hate Wraiths would disappear, don't you think?"
"Utopia," Koschei snapped. "We tried something similar and couldn't do it."
"Or you just didn't have time, since the Lantians were on your tail, wanting to destroy you," Mikhail reminded him. "If we reach an agreement, we'll do it together. Solve a common problem. Then humans and Wraiths can go their separate ways. You won't have to risk searching for food, and we won't have to invent new ways to destroy you. The deal can be adjusted as new opportunities arise. After all, we have the full power of Lantean science on our side. And that's a very, very large body of knowledge."
Koschei didn't take his eyes off the human. Thoughts swarmed in his head, each more treacherous than the last. Right now, the human had him backed into a corner. Either cooperation — and possible death later. Or refusal — and death in the very near future. His proposals were tempting, of course... but too optimistic. If what he suggested to eliminate the enmity between humans and Wraiths was actually feasible, it would be only in the distant future.
And until then, so much could happen... Alliances were made and broken. The strong switched sides with the weak. But none of that would happen if he died on a lab table.
"The enzyme is injected into the prey's body so the pain of feeding doesn't kill it before we've taken all its life force," Koschei said.
"Yes, I know," Mikhail nodded.
"Then why did you ask me about it?" Koschei was surprised.
"Testing your honesty," the Lantian admitted. "I think you're already thinking about how to deceive me and use the deal to your advantage."
The Wraith bared his teeth.
"As if you're not thinking about how to use me with maximum benefit," he sneered.
"Believe me — I need less from you than you need from me," Mikhail assured him. "The offer of future help was just a seed so we could coexist peacefully. If you don't want that — well, then we'll fight. With everything we have. And this time, your cloning facilities won't save you."
Koschei studied his interlocutor carefully. Wraith cloning facilities had been used during the war with the Lantians to rapidly increase their numbers and gain an advantage over the enemy. But they required enormous amounts of energy. And the Wraiths couldn't produce it themselves. Only the Lantean power sources captured during the war had made that and many other things possible.
"You know a lot about my race, human."
"I warned you."
"Which makes it even more questionable that you actually need my help," Koschei squinted.
"I'm just saving time," Mikhail spread his hands.
"But my help will come at a price," the Wraith warned. "I need to feed. And you'll give me better quarters than this cell!"
"About the quarters — first you prove your usefulness in one matter, and then we'll see about solving your housing problem."
"And you have no objections about feeding?" Koschei was surprised.
"As I said — I have enemies," Mikhail smiled. And he did it the way Wraiths do. "I've saved a couple for a snack. Especially for you."
"Then bring them here!" Koschei demanded. "I will taste their life, and then we will talk!"
The man shook his head.
"First, you will tell me about the feeding process, Koschei," the Lantian said in a tone that brooked no argument. "I want to know everything about it. Also about whether you can not only take life but also give it. And yes, I know you can. I'm interested in how effectively this can be applied to humans who have spent a very long time in stasis."
The Wraith looked at his interlocutor with curiosity. It seemed Mikhail's claim that he knew many of the Wraiths' secrets was not empty bravado. Reverse Feeding was one of Koschei's race's greatest secrets.
"Deal, human," the Wraith said. "I will tell you something about Reverse Feeding. Then you will give me food. And only after that will I finish my story."
"Sounds like a plan," Mikhail approved. "So, is aging in stasis reversible?"
"Yes," Koschei admitted reluctantly. "As is any other damage. We can restore strength and youth to weak bodies. We did it for our spies among humans many years ago..."