In a society fighting for survival, there's hardly ever any time you could call free. Especially when you're a scientist.
But such moments do exist.
Ladon Radim could spare only half an hour from each day. Not counting sleep. He had to carefully calculate his schedule to make it work. Otherwise...
He really didn't want to be among those who knew what that meant.
Tidying himself up, eating — he had about half an hour a day for that. Not a minute more.
Though he wasn't the only one.
"Hello, Ladon," a once-beautiful young woman with hair the color of ripe harvest sat down at the small table in the cramped bunker room designated as the scientists' mess hall.
For Ladon Radim, though, she had always been, and still was, beautiful.
Despite the circles that had appeared under her eyes.
Despite her overall deteriorated physical condition.
Despite the faded spark of happiness and joy of life in her eyes.
"You look terrible," the Genii couldn't help saying, setting aside his bland, nearly empty broth.
He reached across the table and took her hand in his. For a moment, her fingers felt icy. As lifeless as the look she gave him.
"And you, for all you know about science, still haven't learned to lie, or at least to compliment a woman," a forced smile appeared on her face.
A moment later, her face contorted in pain. The girl sitting before him yanked her hand away and covered her mouth with both hands. A cough erupted from deep within her body, stricken with a deadly disease.
A very bad cough.
Her body seemed to be trying to expel a piece of something stuck in her esophagus or lungs. But her weakened body couldn't manage it. She would die without ever coughing it up.
None of the scientists affected by radiation had ever managed to cough it up before they died.
Ladon had seen it far too often among his colleagues, his friends, his friends' friends. Genii scientists didn't live long. Longer than the average Genii serving in a surface cover group, growing the crops that fed everyone hiding in the bunker's underground shelters, certainly.
But much shorter than those who didn't work with the atomic bomb. Or near it. On the same level with it. In the same part of the bunker with it. In the same bunker with it...
When the pain-filled rattle in Dalia's throat finally stopped, she wiped the excess moisture from her mouth with her gaunt hands.
"You shouldn't have seen that," Dalia said, embarrassed, picking up the crudely cast spoon and touching her broth. As murky as the one in his bowl. As scant in fats, meat, and healthy vegetables as his.
Genii rations were always the same.
You got used to it almost immediately. Because you'd never seen anything else since birth.
"And how long were you planning to hide from me that the second stage had already started?" he demanded.
"Ladon," Dalia looked at him from under her brow. "Eat. The break will be over soon, and we'll need to get back to work. Eat and don't stop me from eating — we both need our strength to work productively through the second shift."
Radim understood perfectly well that he wouldn't get an answer. He might not be a little boy anymore, and she might not be that lively girl who used to come to his rescue, but when it came to siblings, little changed over a lifetime. At least for the Genii living in the bunker.
Dalia Radim.
"Yes, you're right," he said, picking up his spoon. "The break will be over soon. And we need our strength."
She raised her brother after they were both conscripted into Commander Cowan's service, and she was precious to him. As they grew up, Ladon and Dalia taught each other everything new they learned together, ensuring they'd rise through the Genii ranks together and never be separated.
And that was almost exactly what happened.
Dalia worked in the science department, just like him. And though she wasn't involved in the atomic weapon project, her section was located nearby.
Despite the assurances of the atomic bomb project scientists, who claimed all safety measures had been taken, Ladon had long suspected that this device — one of their greatest achievements — was the cause of death for countless brilliant minds across many generations of Genii.
But he had no proof... No one did.
Commander Cowan trusted the lead scientists, like the missing Tyrus, and they assured him their project was perfectly shielded. But Ladon knew it wasn't true.
And if he'd suspected it before, now he knew for certain.
Ladon glanced around furtively at the Genii surrounding them. They worked their spoons quickly, eager to finish the tasteless food and free the mess hall for the next group. The break times for different science sections and their personnel were staggered. If everyone ate at once, Genii scientific progress would have stalled long ago.
In fact, it had practically stopped anyway.
If not for the destruction of Ermen and the intelligence and technology samples obtained, they would have spent decades puzzling over things that turned out to be as simple as a radiation detector.
"I've put something together in my lab," Ladon whispered quietly. "Find an excuse to come to my section at four o'clock. My colleagues won't be there — they'll be at a meeting with Commander Cowan."
"Want to show me your new invention?" Dalia asked just as quietly, continuing to eat.
"Yes," Ladon answered shortly.
He didn't clarify that he'd only recreated — and even then, a very crude copy — of the detector described in the Ermen data storage device. Bulky, not entirely accurate, and not even calibrated yet, but it would be ready by four in the afternoon.
And when Dalia came, he could measure the radiation level she had.
He wasn't worried about himself.
Unlike his sister, he was assigned to Commander Kolya's special battalion as a scientific consultant. And quite often, when necessary, he left the bunker, spending a lot of time on other planets, far from the radiation source.
According to Ermen records, that was precisely what created the cumulative effect, making his condition very different from Dalia's and the other scientists'.
Ladon would have given a lot to have his sister included in the special battalion instead of the five dullards he had to work with. But scientific knowledge wasn't the only criterion for selection under Commander Kolya's wing.
You also had to excel with weapons. You couldn't hesitate when deciding whether to kill who you were ordered to, or do what needed to be done. It didn't matter who was in front of you — man, woman, old man, child, or Wraith. If the commander said "Kill!," then you raised your weapon and pulled the trigger. So the reddish vapor burst out the back of the entry wound in the victim's body.
Dalia could never do that. Never. So she was here, and he went to other planets.
And she understood perfectly that he was lying when he said he didn't have to kill when passing through the Ring of the Ancients. She understood, but didn't ask questions. Because his service in Commander Kolya's special battalion earned him trust. He was known personally to Commander Kolya, Commander Cowan, and dozens of lower-ranking commanders. They knew him and trusted him.
But not enough to let Ladon study the medical database from Ermen. Cowan and Koli needed weapons capable of effectively destroying Wraiths.
One failure, the death of an entire planet and all its inhabitants, and their own scientists dying from radiation — that was still no reason to look for cures instead of ways to assemble a working nuclear weapon.
And that infuriated Radim endlessly.
It infuriated him that entire generations of scientists died before reaching thirty-five or forty. And the last few years they suffered from terrible pain tearing through their bodies.
And it all started with a cough like that.
The first stage of invisible radiation damage was undetectable, and no one knew when it began. Malaise, pale complexion, headaches, nausea, bleeding — all of it was so familiar to Genii scientists that it was hard to tell whether it was normal or caused by illness.
The second stage, though... You couldn't miss it.
Ladon had nearly finished his bowl, while Dalia had barely managed a third. Her appetite was also off, and — if his eyes weren't deceiving him — there were traces of blood on her teeth...
So her gums were starting to bleed. And it looked like there were specks of dried blood under her nose, carelessly wiped away before their meeting.
There could be no doubt — she was in the second stage of the disease.
Soon other symptoms would appear, and the illness would take hold in her body...
"I'm done," Dalia forced a smile.
"You barely touched your broth," Ladon pointed at the murky liquid in her bowl.
"I don't want any more," she said. "A colleague smuggled a couple of tava bean flatbreads into the section, and we had a snack..."
Ladon knew she was lying. Scientists were searched before entering and leaving sections. To make sure nothing dangerous was brought in or taken out.
The security measure had been implemented after Commander Kolya's special battalion units visited Ermen. He and Cowan were very concerned that one of the scientists might discover something important and not share such valuable data with them.
"Alright," Ladon said, not wanting to start a fight with his sister. "I'm glad you're okay. Smile more often — it suits you."
"If you say so," she smiled.
But it looked more like a pained expression.
"Don't forget," they stood up from the table together. But Ladon took his empty dishes with him; Dalia didn't. It was the rule — if you didn't finish something, you left it for those who came after you. There was never enough food. "Today at four."
"Alright," Dalia replied. "I'll do what I can. And... if it doesn't work out, then tomorrow?"
"Then you'll have to wait a few days," he said vaguely. "The commander wants to send us on a mission. Reconnaissance of a new world — nothing dangerous. They say there might be new technology, maybe even ancestor technology. Either way, routine."
He was lying.
And his sister knew he was lying.
He was going as part of a Fellblade squad that would burn down another village of peasants and take their crops, leaving the corpses as a reminder to the others that you don't deceive the Genii.
Maybe there would be new technology there.
Though a rich harvest was also a worthy prize for the Genii. A couple of new grains in the broth never hurt.
* * *
She had made this journey dozens of times, and nothing had changed this time.
The Queen knew perfectly well where in this room — the one she intended to enter now, even with the lights on — she could find the darkest corner to hide. No, she wasn't afraid of the animals — but she needed time to assess the situation.
Because something was wrong here. Something was happening.
Never before had the water pressure affected her mind so strongly. She literally felt her perception of other minds smearing within her consciousness. As if someone had put a flask of frosted glass over her head and forced her to see through it.
It seemed that, after such a long hunger, she was too weak for a journey this close to the ocean floor. But it would all change soon.
She had no idea what the Lantians called this compartment, but to herself she called it the "immersion compartment." It was built in the same minimalist style the Lantians loved. The only difference was that there were no high-tech airlocks or chambers for the main work this place was built for.
Just a straight hole in the floor, lit by countless spotlights. She had never understood the Ancients' drive to create dozens, if not hundreds, of different types of lights. It seemed like they were trying to compensate for their true creative impotence.
Immersion compartment.
Rising slowly, not even creating a ripple, she quickly looked around, listening with her gift... She sensed human presence nearby, but not close enough to keep her in the freezing water out of fear of being discovered and attacked.
Without unnecessary noise, she climbed out, padding barefoot toward two massive suits of gray-steel armor. Unlike the rest of the Lantean technology, which strove for at least some semblance of elegance, these ugly suits had nothing in common with their style.
There were only two of them, and they looked like two pieces of latex rubber with a transparent helmet sphere shoved into one end. Disgusting abominations.
Ancient high-pressure suits.
Looking around, she found no one in this compartment. Too stupid, too overconfident. There was a locking mechanism to close this breach in the platform's hull integrity.
But the humans hadn't used it.
Which meant they weren't expecting an attack.
Good. Let it be so. Her kills would be that much faster.
The Queen growled quietly, sensing human minds approaching. It seemed her infiltration hadn't gone unnoticed.
Or it was just a regular patrol.
Or maybe it was exactly the people coming to this part of the platform to close the hatch. Too careless.
She hid in the darkest corner of the compartment, waiting for her prey.
And the animals didn't keep her waiting.
She felt their minds.
Four humans.
Too weak to pose any threat to her. But the Queen of Death wasn't going to take risks, either. She remembered all too well how the Ancients' destructive weapons had killed her soldiers and commanders.
Closing her eyes, she concentrated.
Swimming in a weakened state at this depth had affected her more than she thought. Her mental tendrils couldn't reach these people — they were too far away.
But the pressure hadn't damaged her ears.
"I don't like this," one of the humans said quietly. "We had orders to stay at that post. Teyla gave them and..."
"Teyla hasn't been herself lately!" the second voice cut him off. "She hardly ever shows up on New Athos. She's not interested in the tribe's affairs. She only comes to give orders, ask about our business without any real interest, and escort another shipment of food to Atlantis..."
The Queen of Death licked her lips, feeling the food approaching.
Even this short conversation was enough to tell her a lot.
New Athos... That sounded too much like the planet Athos, where she had orchestrated one of her first exterminations of the Lantean state's lesser races. She killed most of them... But left some alive, their civilization destroyed. They fled to the mountains, where it was pointless to search for them... So they had produced offspring. And moved to another planet... Delicious... She would pay them a visit and make them her first prey. But this time, she would finish what she started, savor their deaths, and sate her hunger with every inhabitant of that world.
Atlantis... The last stronghold of the Lantians in the Pegasus galaxy. When she had crashed, Atlantis was hidden underwater and under blockade. The Lantians and their lackeys, those who survived, had huddled there like a tasty morsel, trembling as their defense resources ran out and the number of Wraiths in Lantea's orbit only grew.
How had they survived? Had Atlantis defeated the Wraith? Nonsense — that couldn't be. She'd sooner believe that after her "death," the other Queens had failed to finish her life's work and left.
All the more reason to kill them all and reign again.
"She's actually making contact with the Atlantians!" the first voice said.
"They're not the Ancestors!" the third voice objected. "They're their relatives or something like that. Kanaan said they're a lesser race, like our distant ancestors..."
The Queen of Death wanted to laugh out loud.
Seriously?
Lesser races had taken control of Atlantis? Oh, that was even better! She knew how to make lesser races fear the very sight of her. If the Lantians were dead or had fled, and the city was under the control of their descendants, then everything became even simpler. Maybe she wouldn't even have to escape this planet.
She only needed to bend these weak creatures to her will. And with Atlantis's resources and access to Lantean knowledge, she would become invincible!
"So don't listen to Teyla. She dances to their tune, takes them at their word. And she's forgotten about her own people! They already have one Wraith! And they're probably trying to catch a Queen too! We can't let that happen! We must avenge our ancestors, no matter the cost!" the second voice said heatedly. "She should be here by now. So quiet — as soon as she comes out, we'll kill her."
"Teyla and the Lantians won't be happy!" the second voice objected.
"I don't care! They use us and..."
A quiet hiss sounded.
"Second group!" a sharp male voice spoke. Too young, but with commanding undertones. Very displeased commanding undertones. "What the hell are you doing near that compartment! Your position is in the corridor away from it!"
"I don't know what you're talking about, Mikhail," the second voice replied. "We're at our post..."
"Get away from there — now, you idiots! Control sees you on the detectors! The Queen is right next to you! I don't know how you disabled the field, but..."
A quiet click sounded, and the young man's voice cut off.
"They showed us how to move the crystals themselves," the second voice said smugly. "Thought we were their servants or something! But we're smart Athosians! We're worthy of our ancestors..."
"Idiots," the Queen of Death laughed internally. "Just like the ones I killed on Athos ten thousand years ago."
"Did you hear what Mikhail said?" the first voice whispered. "The Queen is nearby..."
"And she doesn't scare us," the second voice cut him off. "The ability-suppression device is right here. Move in slowly. Two up front, two covering. When you see her — kill her on the spot! Let's go!"
Ah, so that was it... It wasn't the pressure.
Opening her eyes a crack, the Queen of Death saw a pair of animals. Middle-aged, in gray uniforms, holding something vaguely resembling weapons. No energy readings, primitive design... Interesting. How powerful was it?
The Queen closed her eyes again, feeling the animals' minds... Oh, they were even weaker than ten thousand years ago. This would be fun.
"No one's here," the first voice whispered.
"Look harder!" the second voice ordered. "I'm turning on the flashlight now and... Hey, what's going on?! Doran!"
"Doran's gone crazy!" the third voice shouted.
And then it got loud.
The one called Doran had the weakest mind of the four. The Queen easily took control of his mind, turning him into her soldier, a conduit for her will.
Doran had been a farmer, but wanted to learn the warrior's arts. And he was decent with his weapon. Not entirely his. It had been given to him by the people from Atlantis, but was manufactured on an entirely different world.
Primitive — firing pieces of metal. But leaving large wounds in bodies. The bigger the wound, the faster death came...
So the Queen of Death, using Doran's hands, shot at the legs and arms of her soon-to-be victims. Their thick jumpsuits partially stopped the bursts of bullets Doran showered them with.
But they didn't protect from injury itself. The Queen of Death savored the pain of those three and the fear that gripped the animal named Doran. They all lay on the floor, all four of them, whimpering from pain, fear, and the understanding of approaching death.
Then the Queen of Death revealed herself, stepping out from behind the corner where she'd been hiding. The animals screamed in terror at the sight of her. They tried to grab their backup weapons, pushing through the pain.
But their minds were so weak...
"What a pathetic herd," the Queen of Death said contemptuously, approaching the first human. She recognized his voice — the cowardly one who'd spoken first. "Be afraid, human, for your death has come..."
The Queen of Death.
Even in her weakened state, she had no trouble tearing open his gray jacket, exposing the human's chest. Hissing in anticipation of the meal, she drove her right hand forcefully into his chest.
And growled with pleasure as she felt life and energy flow from the convulsing body — rapidly losing all fluids, the elasticity of its skin, the dark color of its hair.
When she finished with that worthless animal, she cast the remains aside and turned her gaze to the one called Dorin. He was trembling as if afflicted with a nervous disorder.
The aura of terror emanating from him gave Death pleasure.
But he lasted only a couple of seconds — mentally worthless, he turned out to be a worthless source of food... The other two weren't as weak, and though their will was broken, they were still waiting for her to...
The roar of a gunshot and pain in her side struck her as she bent over her third victim. The Queen could already feel her body healing thanks to the new strength.
Turning her head and snarling threateningly, she drove the owner of the second voice — the one who'd shot her with his backup weapon — out of his mind, and he screamed in pain and fear as she forcefully entered his consciousness.
"Delight my ears with your screams," the Queen of Death turned her gaze to her second-to-last victim, whose capture had cost her a bullet wound. "And you will restore the strength I spent on healing..."
Five seconds later, that animal was just another mummy.
By the time she dealt with the last victim, she sensed several weak minds and two strong ones approaching. They were trying to box her in from several sides...
She finished her meal and, with her characteristic regal importance, walked to the edge of the opening to leave... But instead of sinking upright into the water, she felt only metal beneath her feet.
The humans had sealed the immersion compartment, cutting off her escape route. And she knew for certain she couldn't open it from here — the control panel wasn't lit, meaning it was either powered down or broken.
The Queen hissed in irritation, returning to the bodies of the humans she'd drained. Bending down, she picked up the human weapon, examined it... Thanks to invading these people's minds, she understood how it worked.
"Come here," the Queen of Death gurgled, choosing her first target for attack. "It's time to die. Only one queen rules here! And my name is Death!"