"I've never been to this world," Teyla said as the Jumper emerged from the forest canopy and sped over a wide expanse of water.
A frame from the series.
"I doubt the Athosians carry boats or anything like that to other planets," Ihaar spoke up, his eyes fixed on the instrument readings on the virtual screen. "Below us is actually a flooded forest. The local river overflowed its banks quite a while ago. And going around it would take a very long time, you know."
"Yes, we noticed," Alvar said, suppressing a yawn.
"I'm saying that Teyla and her people simply couldn't have reached this place to..." Ihaar fell silent, pointing at a marker that had appeared on the screen. "Energy fluctuations. The onboard computer can't identify them."
"Yes, that's noticeable," I admitted, feeling a slight tremor through the yoke. "I thought you'd warn us when to change course. I did warn you about the electromagnetic field on this planet."
"Yes, and I worked on the scanners so we'd detect it as early as possible," Ihaar said irritably. "Find a landing spot, Mikhail. We're still far from the boundaries of the electromagnetic field, so we have a perfect opportunity to land rather than fall like a stone into the forest."
"As you say."
A landing spot was soon found — a small sandy beach on the riverbank. I set the vehicle down at the edge of the forest, away from the water, and took one last look at the anomaly's location data on the virtual screen.
By the time I left the ship, the rest of the group had already assembled outside, checking their gear.
"I told you — we'd have acceptable protection," Ihaar glanced at the three of us checking our firearms. "High technology will work. With interruptions, certainly, but..."
"I'd rather not have my impulse blaster fire every other shot or less," I admitted, patting the energy weapon. "So there's nothing better than the simplest automatic rifles and pistols."
I, Alvar, and Teyla all had exactly that kit. Spare magazines and clips in our tactical packs, along with everything we might need in case we were delayed far from the Jumper. And inside the fine "iron bird," there were even enough supplies for a week of comfortable living or a prolonged battle.
"As you wish," Ihaar shrugged, checking that his electroshock weapon was in place. "I'm more conservative. Your primitive firearms are nothing but props. Once I have more free time and resources, I'll start building impulse blasters for everyone. Then you can leave your firearms as souvenirs for the natives."
Yeah, more time and resources.
"Everyone ready?" I asked, looking over the group. Silent nods in response — just what I needed. If only I had a guarantee that my personal shield would work in the electromagnetic zone... "We're moving toward the EMP source. Keep your weapons ready, but don't open fire first. Remember, they're just little children with very simple views on life."
"Quite," Ihaar grumbled. "What could be simpler than being killed by a bow and arrow? A shameful death, by the way."
"Don't make any sudden moves and everything will be fine," I promised.
"Maybe the locals won't even find us," Alvar suggested, preparing to take point.
"Trust me, they will," I assured him. "Alright, let's move."
* * *
"The electronics on the sight and accessories still aren't turning on," Alvar reported as we entered the ruins.
"And the impulse blaster isn't working," I confirmed, looking at the high-tech weapon. "Ihaar, remember you said everything would work like clockwork?"
"I didn't say that," the Dorandan said irritably, fiddling with his scanner. "I don't understand what's happening here, but the protection I developed against electromagnetic radiation didn't help."
"We noticed," Teyla said from the rear.
"However," the Ermen spoke up, "it turns out that primitive mechanical weapons aren't so primitive, eh, Ihaar?"
"Under the current circumstances," the Ancient snapped back, clearly dejected by his helplessness.
"Ruins ahead!" Emmagan announced.
"Yes, we already noticed," I and Alvar had already reached the edge of the destroyed structures. "The capital of Epheon."
The capital of Epheon.
"Doesn't exactly look like an advanced settlement," Alvar observed, approaching a nearby stone block. "Simple materials, stones stacked on top of each other. I wouldn't say this is the level of lesser races."
"This city might have been built on the ruins of an older one," Ihaar suggested, looking around. "It'll take a lot of time to find anything here. Mikhail, are you sure the EMP source is here?"
"As far as I remember — right in the ruins," I said. "The device should be in the ruins hidden by vegetation and trees."
The other team members looked around, examining the overgrown ruins.
"This won't be fast," Ihaar groaned with pain in his heart. "And I really hope we won't have to dig."
"We shouldn't have to," I said, noticing a barely perceptible movement in the bushes. "Guys... take your fingers off the triggers."
"Why?" Ihaar asked. "Though why am I asking? I don't have anything that can shoot anyway..."
That last phrase seemed to act as a trigger, and from the bushes, people in rags emerged into the small clearing where we stood. Their faces, smeared with colored mud, showed determination and a hint of confusion. But that didn't affect the fact that they held bows with nocked arrows aimed at us.
"And here are the locals," Alvar muttered.
"Unfriendly ones," Teyla agreed, showing her empty hands. "We mean you no harm!"
"Mikhail, they're children!" Ihaar muttered, embarrassed. "I thought you were joking..."
"Not even a little," I admitted, following Teyla's example. "Kids, I see you're surprised that we're adults."
"Yes," one of them spoke up. The cracking adolescent bass voice from the largest and tallest of the dozen boys wrapped in rags and some kind of furs — about fifteen years old — marked him as the leader. "That's very strange around here! Who are you?"
"We'll tell you, certainly," I promised. "Wouldn't you like to take us to your elders?"
The kids, even more surprised now, exchanged glances. Then they looked at their "commander."
Without lowering his weapon, he shifted from foot to foot, trying to hide his surprise. Then, lifting his head proudly, he said:
"Follow me. And no tricks! Or we'll kill you!"
"Look what we've come to," Alvar grumbled. "Now we're being threatened by minors!"
* * *
When the story was coming to an end, I felt my throat go dry.
"Mind if I wet my throat?" I asked the boy whose face was smeared with white ritual patterns.
"Yes, of course," Keras's gaze was lost. He looked around, trying to find support from his fellow tribesmen nearby. But most of them were in the same state as him.
The boy waited for me to finish drinking, then asked:
"Are you saying our religion is nothing more than someone's joke?"
"What do you think yourself?" Alvar swayed from side to side, stretching his legs that had gone numb from sitting in the lotus position. "You kill yourselves so the Wraiths don't come."
"But they don't come," the boy said. "Not for a very long time!"
"Because you're protected by a special device that disables their technology," I explained. "Actually, any sufficiently advanced technology, to be precise."
Despite the fact that Keras sat before us in ritual paint, which he was obliged to wear due to his imminent voluntary suicide, I couldn't help noticing one detail.
Keras.
I understand that when filming large-scale series, the same actors appear over and over again. And in different roles.
But seeing this in reality... To put it mildly, it's unusual.
The thing is, in the Milky Way series, there was a guy who looked exactly like him. In terms of appearance, I mean. And he served in one of the Earth reconnaissance teams. Although, if my memory serves me right, he was supposed to have died according to the timeline.
Whether he's still alive among the Earthlings, I don't know. And it doesn't matter.
But the fact that in different series of the universe, people with the same appearance appeared... Again, in series, that's understandable. But in reality...
What is the probability that in different galaxies, millions of factors would align the same way, and people would appear with the same set of genes, forming two identical human forms? Well, perhaps in some details these people differ, but in general...
Then I dismissed these thoughts. First, I haven't personally seen that soldier from Earth who looks like Keras. Maybe he doesn't even look like him? And second, even if he does... No, seriously! The scale of entire galaxies! Millions of years of evolution and mutations! Anything could have happened!
Heck, even on Earth there were people who looked alike. And they weren't twins or relatives at all!
Or, for example, in the same Milky Way, within one large criminal organization, there was a bandit who looked exactly like Kirik in the series. Exactly the same situation... And there could be countless such examples.
Jokes of genetics...
"This must be some kind of joke..." Keras shook his head. "You appear on the day of my ritual, just a few hours before it, and say such things... How can I trust you?"
"I suggest we return to the city ruins, and we'll demonstrate something," I proposed. "We'll find the device that blocks technology, show you that when it's on, technology doesn't work. And vice versa..."
"You don't understand," the boy said. "For five hundred years, our faith has protected us! Everyone who reached twenty-five years of age sacrificed themselves. And as a result, the Wraiths didn't come..."
"They did come," I corrected. "When we entered your wonderful city in the trees, we saw an altar with Wraith remains."
That's what I'm talking about.
"Yes," Keras confirmed. "A long time ago, their flying boat fell from the sky. We finished off the survivors so they wouldn't call others."
"I actually like it here," Alvar said unexpectedly. "These guys' motto: 'In any uncertain situation, finish off the survivors!'"
"If we die at the hands of the Wraiths, we won't be able to pass into another, better world," Keras shed light on one of his religion's tenets. "Everyone on our planet knows that. The Wraiths have also learned that lesson. And now their plans won't come to fruition."
"Their plans?" Alvar repeated.
"My people used to raise cattle," Keras explained. "And the Wraiths, when they came here, raised us. But as their cattle."
"They do that all across the galaxy, on other worlds," the Athosian explained. "On thousands of worlds."
"Thousands of worlds," Keras said, awestruck. "I... None of my people have ever gone far from their own settlement, let alone the Wraith Ring. You came through it, didn't you?"
"And by 'Wraith Ring,' you mean that round thing the Wraiths come through?" I clarified.
"Yes," Keras said. "Friends don't come through it. Only Wraiths."
"There's a first time for everything," I said. "For example, I've never before had a conversation with a twenty-five-year-old guy who's supposed to kill himself in a couple of hours, hoping it will save his people."
"But it has saved them for hundreds of years!" the boy said. "It will save them now too!"
"Keras," another boy, not much younger than the "elder," approached him. "They're not from here. We need to send them back through the Wraith Ring before they come."
"Alright," I slapped my hands on my legs. "Enough, guys. I understand it hasn't been easy for you. For five hundred years, you've sacrificed each other to avoid becoming Wraith prey. And soon Keras is about to do the same. That's your religion, and I'm not going to disprove it groundlessly. I have a proposal."
"You'll leave and never come back?" the second boy asked. He seemed to be the next "elder" after Keras dies. But he was pushing his "senior comrade" toward suicide not because he craved the position himself. But because he feared that breaking a five-hundred-year-old ritual would bring the Wraiths. And everyone would perish. And death at the hands of the Wraiths, as we'd already heard, is an obstacle to the afterlife.
"You don't trust us, and you think we're deceiving you," I said. "So why don't we all go to the ruins and examine them? As soon as we find the equipment I told you about — the very thing that's actually protecting you — we'll show you what's really happening."
"You're just wasting our time," the future elder said with a grimace. I think he even introduced himself, but I didn't remember his name. Aries, I think it was. "Keras, we need to get back to the ritual!"
"Aries!" The "elder" raised his hand, calling for silence. "We still have time before the sacrifice. If these people are deceiving us, we'll have the chance to verify it, send them off, and finish what we started. And as long as I live, you will do as I say."
"Yes, Keras," Aries gritted through his teeth.
* * *
"Have you come to an agreement?" Teyla inquired after Alvar and I had climbed back down the rope ladder to the ground.
"In a manner of speaking," I said. "We're heading to the ruins. They've given us an hour and a half to convince them we're not impostors."
"And if we don't make it?" Emmagan asked quietly.
I stepped aside a little, making room for the others coming down.
"We don't have a choice," I said. "If we fail this time, we won't be able to come back here. Not without a fight, I mean."
The Athosian woman looked around. Dozens of children — boys and girls of various ages — were hurriedly averting their eyes. To them, we were something of a curiosity. Grizzled old-timers, after all. Even the smallest age differences seem huge next to these kids.
"You wanted to show me something," Keras said, reaching the ground. "In our altar."
"That's right," I said, looking at the dwellings perched above our heads. "You know, when I was a kid, I would've killed for a treehouse like this."
Keras's people's homes.
"They're not the best houses, trust me," Keras said with a good-natured smile. "In other villages, the houses are much bigger."
"Other villages?" Teyla asked as we approached the Wraith remains. "Do you have many of them?"
"About a dozen," Keras explained. "Some smaller, some bigger than our settlement."
"And everyone sacrifices themselves to keep the Wraith from coming?" I asked. Emmagan paled at the affirmative answer.
"Keras," Aries materialized beside us, as ever-present as before. "You want to let outsiders near the altar?"
"They promised to show us something important," Keras replied, watching as I gestured for Ihaar to come over. The engineer had been sitting with a group of children busy with far too adult tasks for their age. Seeing six- and seven-year-olds making arrowheads out of stones… yeah. The galaxy is way too cruel to little people.
"And if they're lying?" Aries pressed.
"Then we'll see," Keras assured him, watching Ihaar approach us.
"Listen," the engineer was saying to the nearest boy who was trailing after him. "Just because I can't make your primitive projectile weapon out of a piece of wood and animal sinew doesn't mean I know nothing about ballistics. Believe me, this," he shook a slightly curved stick in front of him, "is a terrible arrow. It won't fly straight! But if you want to shoot around corners… you still won't be able to!"
"Really?" the boy squeaked. "But my brother says it's a good future arrow!"
"How old is your brother?"
"Ten. He's a good hunter!"
"And I'm almost thirty," Ihaar argued. "So I'm three times the hunter he is. Trust me!"
"But you can't even make a bow!"
"But I can assemble a nuclear bomb and blow up this entire forest!" the engineer snapped irritably.
"What's a nuclear bomb?" another boy asked. "Is it stronger than a bow and arrow?"
"What?" Ihaar grimaced. "It's stronger than anything you'll come up with for the next million years."
"Really?" the kids nearby chorused.
"Of course!" Ihaar declared confidently. Keras shot me a sharp look. The sheer absurdity of the situation almost made me laugh out loud. "Anyway, you need to find some radioactive ore. Naquadah will do. You can identify it by…"
"Ihaar!" That was no longer a joking matter. "Are you seriously trying to teach kids how to build a nuclear bomb?"
"What's wrong with that?" he asked, surprised. "I built one a week after my initiation. One button press, and an asteroid the size of Atlantis just vaporized! Perfectly normal kids' stuff!"
"Kids' stuff… with a nuclear bomb?" Alvar clarified.
"Well, yeah," Ihaar nodded. "Every boy should blow up an asteroid at least once in his life. Or build a nuclear reactor. At the very least — generate high-temperature plasma. These are standard school projects!"
For a moment I imagined some teacher back on Earth explaining to fifth-graders how to properly liven up the residents of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. No, screw those kinds of shop class!
"Forget it," I ordered. "You've got work to do."
"So what about that nuclear bomb?" one of the boys tugged at Ihaar's pant leg. "Do you need a lot of branches to make it?"
"Better to make bows and arrows!" the first boy declared. "Even a little kid can make those. But this old man can't! My brother can! My brother is smarter!"
"Ask your brother what the humidity and atmospheric density are on your planet," Ihaar snapped, getting angry. "And when he starts picking his nose without knowing the answer, come back to me."
"Why?" the boy didn't get the point.
Ihaar was about to snap back, but heard my deliberate cough and waved his hand. Pulling a small oblong device from his pouch, he handed it to the younger brother of the village's best bow-maker.
"Look," he crouched down, pointing at a small button on the device. "You need to press this thing. But first, point this end," he indicated a small electrode on the device's tip, "at some dry leaves or something like that — something that catches fire easily. Just don't point it at yourself. Or anyone else."
"And then what?" the boy asked, taking the gift and immediately testing it. Naturally, nothing happened.
"It'll catch fire," Ihaar said. "And really well. You won't have to keep rubbing sticks together anymore…"
"Awesome!" the kid's eyes lit up. "There's a pit of dry leaves under the main tree! I'm going to go light it!"
"Stop right there, squirt!" I grabbed the little guy by the collar and gently confiscated the electric discharge lighter, giving Ihaar a disapproving look. "Have you lost your mind? He'll set the whole forest on fire!"
"Nothing works here anyway," the engineer shrugged. "So nothing would've…"
"Didn't you want to find and disable whatever supposedly stops technology from working in our villages?" Keras asked softly.
Ihaar went pale. He glanced guiltily at the kid who'd just lost his gift, then at me.
"Oops," he said.
"Get to work," I growled, pointing at the Wraith corpses on the altar. "Their armor should have self-destruct systems and trackers. We need to disable them so they don't activate once we turn off the EMP field."
"Right!" the engineer nodded and rushed to the altar. "Look, the first one has a tracker right on its arm!"
"What's that?" Keras asked, intrigued, as Alvar, at Ihaar's request, pulled a Wraith armor wrist-comm with a small cylindrical bulge near the wrist from the skeletal forearm.
"Tracking device," Alvar explained, going into detail.
"Hey, adult," I felt a tug on my sleeve. "You took my gift. That means now you owe me two!"
Looking into the little extortionist's eyes, I pulled a couple of fruit bars from my pouch. The kitchen unit processed fruit into paste, then we'd add some Athosian seasonings. It came out like muesli. Paper for wrapping was easy enough.
"What's that?" he asked.
"Let me show you," I offered, unwrapping the "snack" and breaking off a small piece. I put it in my mouth and started chewing. "See? It's food. Tasty, nutritious, and safe. Try it. Trust me, at your age, vitamins are better than playing with a lighter."