As soon as the doors leading into the compartment slid open, I shoved Trebal inside.
"What the hell was that on the bridge?" I growled at the bitch, almost in her face.
"How cozy," she replied, looking around. "Somehow I never doubted you'd take the captain's quarters for yourself."
"And I have fewer and fewer doubts that you'll be heading to a cell soon," I shared my feelings.
"There's only one brig cell on the ship, and there's already a Wraith in it," she said casually, walking over to my bed without permission. Sitting on the edge, she crossed her legs. "So. We need to talk. Frankly."
"And you couldn't have come to me with this request half an hour ago?" I asked.
"And were you planning to tell me that you possess data that could change our lives?" Trebal asked.
"I'm not thrilled that the Captain told you what I shared with him," I said with a grimace. "And I think you understand perfectly well that sharing that kind of information with someone who shot you twice is a huge mistake."
"You weren't exactly open with your own people either," Trebal reminded me. "And that raised a lot of questions for me."
"Is that so?"
"The very fact that you're working with Chaya Sar reduces trust in you exponentially!" Trebal shot back acidly. "You hid who you really are from your own people. And the Ascended know what else you're hiding! With those starting conditions, how was I supposed to help you and entrust you with the crew I'm responsible for?"
She had a point, actually.
"You think that little performance on the bridge made them trust me more?" I asked. "I doubt it."
"And you'd be wrong," Trebal stated. "For them, it doesn't really matter who you really are. You've only done good things for them — and that's why they're loyal to you. The attempted mutiny proved it."
"In my world, trying to mutiny on a ship is punishable by death."
"Well, kill me then, for giving you total power over my crew," Trebal snorted. After thinking for a second, she added: "At least over most of them."
"What do you mean?"
"The minor races lived and developed because the Lanteans shared technology and knowledge with them," Trebal said. "That's exactly what my crew would expect from you. Your legend of being 'a descendant of Lanteans who fled to Earth' wouldn't hold up to scrutiny the moment you showed your incompetence even in basic sciences and technology. It would cause unrest among the crew. At the very least, those who'd think you're just another Lantean deceiving them. Or maybe just a fraud posing as one. And now," she squinted, "imagine what would happen if their discontent surfaced on Atlantis? Where they could, under various pretexts, get access to Lantean technology, their experiments, and their weapons?"
I thought it over... I didn't like it. No, not the thinking — what my mind conjured up.
"And how exactly does your mutiny help me?" I inquired.
"He asked me to help you," Trebal said, grimacing slightly and growing sad. "He told me everything you told him. To say I was shocked is an understatement."
"Get to the point, Trebal," I said, twitching my weapon in front of her to show my patience was wearing thin.
"Candor is a virtue," she smirked. "An immutable truth. As is the fact that you didn't start a shootout, but laid out the general points. That's enough for the crew to start trusting you. Ihaar, of course, overstates his importance, and he can't vouch for the whole crew. In fact, about thirty percent will definitely refuse to work with you — they worship the Lanteans and will never help someone who isn't one."
"And you, supposedly, helped me?"
"For starters — I know who they are," Trebal replied. "And trust me, you would really not like it if the ship's security service rose up against you. They have a short way of talking, and their faith in the Lanteans is almost religious. Only a few of them will follow you. Reviving the rest would be a waste of energy."
Or she could be trying to slip me her supporters so she could try the mutiny again, but more successfully this time.
"Go on," I said.
"Knowledge of the future is dangerous because it's made up of many factors, parts of which no one has ever, under any circumstances, possessed," Trebal said. "That knowledge borders on the prohibition against time travel."
"Because changing something in the past changes the future too?"
"And anomalies are also possible, the consequences of which are hard to predict," Trebal said. "But for most of the crew, your knowledge of the future will be equivalent to being a Lantean."
"Why?"
"Because the Lanteans could calculate their actions many years in advance," the girl said. "The fact that you mentioned the expedition that was supposed to arrive only confirms that."
"But the humans aren't here."
"And that demonstrates the imperfection of the titular race," Trebal spread her hands. "So here we are, with an alternative — a man whose consciousness was brought from another universe by one of the most respected heroes of the entire Ancient nation and who was granted a perfect body. Along with his knowledge of the future, saving our lives where we would have all died... It puts you in a better light. So most of the crew will follow you. If only because they know that your information about the future can be applied correctly. Even by you."
"Insulting me again?"
"Don't be so sensitive," Trebal winced. "Assess your capabilities realistically. Genetics alone won't help you. Although," her eyes gleamed, "I already understand you intend to fill the vacuum in your head."
This time I held my tongue.
"And you're going to do it in a damned dangerous way!" Trebal scowled. "Even if you manage to reconfigure the reverse communication channel of the chair with the city, the entire Atlantis database will flood into your mind! I can't even claim to know the number equal to the memory capacity that would require."
"A Lantean brain," I tapped my temple.
"And human thinking," Trebal shook her head. "Even the most developed Lanteans couldn't afford that. An organic brain can't receive that amount of data without harming itself!"
Something didn't add up.
"There are installations in the Milky Way that upload all the knowledge of the Ancients directly into the brains of their descendants," I reminded her. "Even humans managed to do it a couple of times."
"And how fast did they die?" Trebal asked.
"They didn't die," my answer made her raise an eyebrow. "They got some help from the Asgard and saved their brains."
"The Asgard?" Trebal frowned. "I've only read about that race in legends... Are they still alive?"
"Yes."
"An alliance with them could help us destroy the Wraith," Trebal's eyes lit up. "According to the chronicles, when the Alterans were settling the Milky Way, they found several races that were on roughly the same development path as they were."
"The Alliance of Four Races, I'm aware. The Ancients, the Asgard, the Nox, and the Furlings. The last ones, by the way, were never encountered by anyone."
"How could you have encountered them if they were destroyed?" Trebal was surprised. "They were killed by self-replicating machines before the Lanteans even left for the Pegasus galaxy..."
Oh. Well, now at least it's clear why the Furlings were never shown in the movies and series set in this universe.
It seemed the Milky Way Replicators had gotten them. But that needed verification.
"Let's get back to the main topic of the conversation," I reminded her. "Why the mock mutiny?"
"How else was I supposed to make you show that you're actually something more than a hollow shell who knows how to push buttons?" Trebal asked. "And please, don't insult my intelligence with phrases about how we should have talked beforehand, discussed everything, and so on. We've already established you wouldn't have gone for that. I had to act tough to fulfill the Captain's request. So, thanks to me, you have about two hundred specialists qualified in handling Ancient technology who believe you know what you're doing. Don't mention it."
"You know," I smiled. "It looks more like someone tried to seize power, realized it wasn't going to work halfway through, and is now trying to save herself from life in the brig."
"Or a date with a Wraith," Trebal suggested. "As an alternative. If I really intended to start a revolt, you'd be better off killing me than keeping me prisoner."
"You think?"
"It's logical. If I intend to depose you as head of Atlantis, I won't rest and will bide my time," Trebal shrugged. "After all, the only thing that sets me apart from the others is that I know slightly more about Lantean technology than, say, Ihaar. And yes, I'm an excellent pilot. And the only regular military officer you have at your disposal. As you can see, without an army, I'm useless; a pilot can be trained; and as for the difference in knowledge... Ihaar and the others will close that gap as soon as they get access to the Atlantis database. You need to kill me for your own safety."
Hmm...
"Are you sure you're fighting for your life?" I inquired.
"Yes."
"Your arguments... sound dubious."
"That's because they're not in my favor," Trebal smirked. "The only thing that's kept you from killing me so far is my appearance. Sorry, but in our society, we learned fairly quickly to read body language and interpret certain signs of attention. And right now, you're looking at me, but thinking about something else... Knowing you, I don't think it's the kind of thing best said aloud. In our society, indecency isn't something you publicize. Or think about. Frankly, in your company, I feel like I'm being undressed every five minutes and touched in the most immodest places. Yes, and you're thinking about it right now... If you could at least not stare so obviously at my cleavage, you could maintain at least a semblance of your impenetrability..."
"If I shot her right now, would the charge go through the hull?" I wondered. Logically, it probably would. And since the cabin borders on vacuum, that was a pretty lousy solution.
"Fine," I said.
"There seems to be a missing logical link somewhere in there," Trebal sighed. "What specifically is 'fine'?"
"You get to live," I announced.
"Primates," Trebal shook her head. "Mikhail, I'm trying to impart the wisdom we only understood after decades of bloody battles: you can't leave enemies at your back! Even if they have a nice face and..."
I cut her off with a gesture.
"I completely agree with you, Trebal," I admitted. "But there's a nuance. You're not my enemy."
"Is that so?" she raised an eyebrow. "I thought I made myself perfectly clear."
"Perfectly," I agreed, holstering my weapon. I walked over to a small metal cabinet bolted to the wall, leaned against it, and looked intently at Trebal. "So clear that there's no doubt — you need to be killed. And the sooner, the better."
The girl stared at me, her mouth slightly open. I think she already realized there wouldn't be an execution.
But she probably didn't realize I'd seen right through her.
"I don't understand, primitive," she shook her head. "You're making a huge mistake..."
"You know, I've always been amazed by actors," I admitted. "Mostly bad ones."
"Actors?"
"Performers," I picked a synonym. "You know, those who live lives that aren't their own, putting on real or imagined scenes for others' entertainment..."
"I know about theatre," Trebal said coldly. "What does that have to do with you needing to kill me to secure your power?"
"Actors have this trick, called a 'monologue,'" I continued, ignoring her words. "They talk about something for a long time, reason, and all that."
"I still don't see..."
"That's a worn-out cliché," I yawned. "So you kept insulting me and my friends, calling us primitive, put on that ridiculous scene... Tell me, did you really think I'd kill you just because you were being a bitch?"
Trebal stared at me in silence.
"There's this thing called character," I explained. "A core that supports us in tough moments when the skeleton can't keep up. And you can't change yourself, no matter what. So it's very hard to imagine that a hard-bitten bitch who was ready to kill half my crew and me myself decided to give me a lesson about traitors being killed."
"I don't see anything illogical about that, and..."
"Oh, give it a rest," I sighed. "We both know that the Aurora's captain was more than just a captain to you. He tasked you with helping me, and sacrificed himself. I know the reasons for that act, but... Saying them out loud wouldn't be right. I'll only say that he didn't do it just to stop the Wraith from capturing his ship."
Trebal bored into me with a sharp gaze.
"Realizing you couldn't get him back, you helped us break away from the Wraith and escape the explosion. Then you decided to check whether I was the right person to help. Maybe the captain was wrong, or maybe I'd fooled him. I think I failed your 'chair test'... I suspect it was because of my desire to upload the knowledge from the Atlantis database into my brain. That idea scares you, so you decided you'd had enough — time for a change of fuhrer."
The girl stayed silent, but her pursed lips spoke volumes.
"There was no test," I sighed. "You decided to seize power when I put a stop to you and Ihaar's old habits of deciding what to do without me. That's why you blurted out what you knew — you wanted my people to defect to your side. But it didn't work. Fortuna turned away from you. And what you've been telling me here — you only realized at the very end. So you decided: since you couldn't save your loved one, since the mutiny failed, there's no point sticking around with this primitive anymore. You quickly reframed your actions into something that might sound logical and objective, gave me a quick masterclass on not trusting Ihaar's bravado. And you decided the best way to escape the torment of choice, your conscience, and the Vietnam flashbacks at night was to put a bullet in your own head. Which you're so pathetically begging me for."
Trebal winced.
"Correct me if I'm wrong," I offered.
"It sounds like a weak plan when you say it," she grumbled.
"Well, it is Plan G," I shrugged.
"And why's it called that, exactly?"
"Because it's bad," I explained. "No matter how much you bluster, no matter how much you act the bitch, your switch from 'hysteric next to the Aurora's onboard computer' to 'docilely helping and pontificating' was way too abrupt not to notice. No offense, but I've seen better hysterics than the one tearing you apart."
"It hurts just to think that the Captain sacrificed himself for such a worthless piece of trash!" Trebal exploded. "I'd rather die than watch you pretend you know what you're doing! If it weren't for me, you'd have turned into a human vegetable after uploading the Atlantis databases! With a commander like you, no one can feel safe!"
"And yet you just told me how wonderful it is that I possess knowledge of the future..."
"I'm sure nothing like that happened in the events you know!" Trebel snorted.
"Agreed, I thought of that possibility myself."
"Don't do things that are above your evolutionary level," Trebal winced. "Brain activity isn't really your thing."
"And there are the insults... I was starting to worry you'd forgotten how to provoke me."
"I don't understand you," the Ancient admitted. "How can you be calm in a situation like this? You are a clear violation of the Ascended's rules, which means they will strive to correct their oversight. You decided to govern a city whose mechanisms and knowledge you understand nothing about. The galaxy is teeming with Wraiths, and you have no fleet or army to oppose them. They've learned about the Ancients' survival and won't rest until they destroy us. To the last person. Not to mention that the danger in the Milky Way, as you call that galaxy, can't help but be terrifying. If only for its sheer unknown!"
"And what, in your opinion, should I do? Tear my hair out because they didn't hand everything to me on a silver platter? Or spit at the ceiling because life is hard and I can't fix everything with a snap of my fingers?"
"You tell me," Trebal offered. "Because to me, this situation looks like a dead end. There's no way out of here."
"Maybe," I shrugged. "But giving up without doing anything — that's not in my nature. Yes, there's no army or fleet, but there is an opportunity to get my life in order, to find what remains of the Ancients. To put it all to my service and fight."
"Against the Wraiths? Or against that unknown threat that even the Ascended couldn't handle?"
"To fight for my place under the sun," I clarified. "You said it yourself — General Hippaforalkus was a hero among the Lantians. And he took those actions. He couldn't have been unaware of what the other Ascended would do, so his decision cannot go unanswered. He gave me a second chance, and in return, I intend to resolve the Ascended problem."
"That doesn't really look like you're striving for that with all your might..."
"I have no desire to barge into some unknown alley fight without a weapon. You never know what the opponent has — a bat, a knife, a gun, or a nuclear bomb."
"It's unwise to start a fight without knowing your enemy," Trebal nodded in agreement.
"And it's even more unwise to solve problems in another galaxy without having a secure rear in Pegasus," I added. "You can, of course, disagree with my point of view..."
"On the contrary," Trebal interrupted me. "I agree with it. Whatever it is that's troubling the Ascended, it's clearly not an ordinary problem. I understand now," she nodded. "It looks like an idiotic use of your knowledge of the future, but in reality — it's a semblance of a plan to prepare for battle."
"And delaying the actual participation in that battle as long as there's an opportunity to do so," I added.
"Then you should also understand the reason why I won't kill you for such a stupid stunt," I explained. "The commander of the Aurora helped me. He gave me the answers I needed. He couldn't return to Atlantis because then the Ascended would have hunted him and us down. So he sacrificed himself. And he asked me to take care of you. It's not in my nature to refuse a request from people like that. Even if I don't particularly want to, I'll still give you a second chance. For the captain's sake."
"Well, at least it's not out of pity," she snorted.
"Your last chance," I clarified. "What you did on the bridge nullified the captain's request. Now, if you pull something like that again, disobey me, start a conspiracy — I'll kill you. Is that clear?"
"If you think I wanted you to kill me, then why do you think I won't try it again?" she asked.
"Because I believe — even if you act like a bitch, it would be incredibly stupid of you to repeat it. Especially now that you know he could have survived, but chose instead to doom us all to enormous problems. He sacrificed himself so we could live. Including you. You'll be a complete fool if, after my words, you don't get your head straight and use this second chance wisely."
Actually, I felt sorry for her. Her attempt to show how smart and advanced she was, a cunning schemer and leader, had turned out to be nothing more than another hysterical outburst from someone who had lost a loved one.
I'm sure the Aurora's commander had several assumptions about what problems I would face. That's why he asked me to look after his sweetheart. And her, in turn, to help me with the weight of her authority and her mind.
I wouldn't be surprised if he even had hypotheses about what was happening in the Milky Way.
Either way, the credit of trust was exhausted. I was immensely grateful to the Lantian for his help, his explanations, his conversation. But it didn't outweigh the limit of my patience for Trebal's antics. I made that clear to her. There would be no more warnings.
"They won't understand if you just forgive my attempted mutiny like that," Trebal said. "And even if you didn't believe my story about helping you that way, others won't believe it either."
Letting the sarcasm roll off me, I chuckled.
"Then we'll have to come up with a plan where this fits into the overall picture of events," I shrugged. "I don't think I need to point out that you should keep quiet about the fact that the captain's sacrifice wasn't dictated solely by the known circumstances, do I?"
"You don't," Trebal said. "Only a few knew he was a freethinker who disagreed with the majority of Lantians."
"Do you know... what exactly they disagreed about?"
"No," the woman shook her head. "No matter how much I questioned him, he never said anything..."
Or maybe she just didn't understand his hints.
We were walking on very thin ice, but... There was no other way.
"Well then, there's no need to dwell on that," I said. "We have a few days to calculate everything properly. I mean the final part of the flight. That's what you'll be doing. You'll stay under arrest in your quarters for now."
"I'd rather stay in this one," Trebal said quickly. "The less I'm seen, the fewer questions might arise. A perfect execution of the braking maneuver could be just the reason for you to grant me 'forgiveness.' Or at least, it could serve as a reason to spare my life and earn your trust."
So she didn't really want to die all that much, it seemed. That's what motivation did. If she'd known all the nuances beforehand... Maybe she wouldn't have caused this mess.
"We'll figure it out," I replied, climbing down from the pedestal. "Do you need anything for the calculations?"
"No," she answered, pulling an Ancient scanner from her trouser pocket. "This is sufficient. I know all the variables, including the gravitational characteristics of Atlantis, so..."
"We're not flying to Atlantis," I corrected her.
She looked at me in surprise, then nodded with understanding.
"You didn't just redirect energy between the systems; you changed the destination point," she said. "Clever."
"That's what we're about."
"And where are we actually going?"
"An outpost on the planet Taranis. The Wraiths have never been there. The outpost, powered by geothermal energy, has a dry dock. It's under our control and guarded by Athosians. The workshops will help get the ship combat-ready faster."
The woman stared at me for a moment, then said:
"I think I understand which planet you're talking about. But then I'll need updated data on it."
"I'll provide it. Anything else?"
"Just one thing. How did you know that transferring energy from one system to another wouldn't damage the ship?"
"Lantian genetics allow a broad spectrum of interaction with their technology," I explained. "You just need to give a mental command, and the ship's computer calculates and executes everything itself. In case of danger, I had ordered it to switch to the engine systems. But the circuits held."
"A clever move," Trebal acknowledged. "I underestimated you."
"Because you didn't know it could be done without the control chair," I explained. "It was clear to me ever since my first time piloting a jumper — even without the control chair, Lantian technology can be controlled by me mentally. So no risk, just calculation."
The Lantians built their technology for themselves. But at the same time, why would they need control panels if they could give mental commands? It was for the younger races — so they could be useful.
But there was something I wasn't going to tell Trebal — that before, I could only have pulled this off on a jumper, not with the Hippaforalkus's systems. I didn't know if I had gotten stronger, or if her actions in connecting the control chair to all the ship's systems made it possible, but a fact was a fact. When I got back, I'd have to ask Chaya to look into it.
And also apologize to her for a lot of things.
"I'll say it again — it was a very clever move to outplay me in an area where I considered myself an expert," Trebal said. "Maybe that's exactly the potential the commander saw in you. And I only saw it after... Well, you understand what I'm trying to say."
"No, I don't understand," I admitted.
The woman's eyes flashed and she pressed her lips together.
"I don't say this often, so it's hard for me to..."
"And whose problem is that?" I asked. "If you want to say something, say it. Can't? Well, I guess you don't want to that badly..."
"I..." Trebal looked away, licked her lips, then looked back at me. "I apologize for what I did. It was... unbecoming."
"And mortally dangerous if you try to repeat it," I reminded her of my warning.
"I'll remember," the woman promised. "I promise there won't be any more trouble with me."
Usually, that's exactly when the trouble starts.
"Well," I thought for a moment, then decided to linger in the cabin. "Since we've found common ground, maybe we should do something to strengthen our relationship? Something to, so to speak, move it to a more trusting level?"
The woman looked at me carefully, then her gaze shifted to the bed she'd been sitting on this whole time. Huh... What was she getting all flustered about, like I was hinting at something inappropriate?
"A very common scenario for less developed races," she sighed, touching the top magnetic clasp on her jacket-vest. "Besides, it would be an extra chance to explain..."
"Whoa, stop right there!" I caught myself, realizing I was looking at the body parts the vest had previously concealed. "Put them away, now!"
The woman, her mouth open in surprise, complied.
"If not intimacy, then... What do you want from me?" she asked, confused.
"Let's talk about Chaya Sar," I explained my interest. "About everything you know about her... Including rumors."
* * *
She had never felt so humiliated.
But now, looking up at the man from below, she wanted only one thing — to tear him to pieces. Now that he had gotten everything he wanted from her, his true intentions were easy to understand.
"Submission suits you," he rumbled, smiling. Walking up to the woman, he ran his hand across her face. Then, grabbing her by the jaw, he shoved her, making her fall onto her back. "At my feet — that is the place you should rightfully occupy!"
"You will pay for this, Scavenger!" the Cunning Blade hissed. "My allies..."
"Will forget you exist once word gets out that you've lost your cruisers and most of the Wraiths under your command," Styx stated. "And your hive ship, once it's repaired, will be a fine addition to my growing faction. As will your feeding grounds, Cunning Blade."
"Soon the other Keepers will learn what you've done," the queen assured him. "And they will come for you!"
Styx grabbed her neck with one hand and jerked the queen into the air:
"Let them come," he laughed. "I have something to greet them with. And you will help me do it!"