When we went down the main staircase to the level where the stargate was located, Chaya, for the umpteenth time, examined her invariably simple yet simultaneously gorgeous-looking dress. Finding no hint of any problems on it, she looked at me.
"Are you sure this is a good idea?"
This was the fifth time in the last half hour I'd heard that question. And I'd heard it roughly a couple hundred more times over the two days since we left Athos.
"I think you asked me the same question when I ordered the Hippaforalkus sent to the edge of the Athos system to wait for our guests," the reminder brought her an awkward smile.
That was how the girl hid her nervousness.
"Actually, it's a very bad idea to send a ship with only one of its four reactors capable of reaching full power, where repairs aren't finished, and shields..."
"But it worked, didn't it?" I clarified. "It worked. So the plan was right. At least this time."
"Did you think about what would happen to the ship, Trebal, and the crew if they had opened fire?"
"I did," I confirmed. "Four camouflaged jumpers would have shelled their ships and turned them into ruins before the Nomads could inflict any significant harm on the Hippaforalkus. Besides," I smiled. "Since when do you care about Trebal's survival?"
"I think mentioning the battleship was the first thing in my question," Chaya changed the subject.
"Incoming wormhole," was reported from the control room balcony.
"Well, here we go," Chaya sighed, watching the blue chevron lights ignite along the outer ring of the stargate. "You won't mind if I remind you this was all your idea when something goes wrong, will you?"
"Isn't that allowed for wives?" I asked at the moment the connection was established, and a whirlwind of kawoosh burst from the gate. Almost immediately after it was sucked into the gate's ring, a white-blue haze of an energy shield formed around the device.
"I don't know," Chaya widened her eyes playfully. "No one's ever asked me anything like that before."
"And my mother always told me: 'Find yourself an older girl—she'll be smart, experienced, and love you because you're young.'"
"Received Commander Trebal's recognition code," the technician on duty reported. Receiving my nod of assent in response, he gave the command and the energy shield around the gate dissipated.
"Very funny," Chaya continued cracking her fingers, betraying her nerves. "I'd like to see your mom's face if you introduced us to her and said, 'Dear Mom! Here are two women who wanted a child from me. One is ten thousand years old, give or take, the other is a little younger, but it's not certain. One spent all that time in a refrigerator, and the other was pure energy. By the way, one of them killed the population of an entire planet, and I forgave her. Mom? Mom?! Get a doctor, a doctor, call a doctor!'"
My chuckle coincided with Trebal stepping out of the gate.
Seeing us, the Dorandan frowned, but it didn't go any further.
Instead of making a scene, the girl stepped a little to the side, turning to face the people coming out of the gate.
Mostly men, dressed in Nomad uniforms: dark brown trousers, brown jackets. Stubble, sloppily cut hair, sunken eyes, hollow cheeks, dull hair color, as if it had been washed in a machine on the wrong setting.
A clear deficiency of vitamins from lack of sunlight. In general, life in confinement doesn't benefit anyone.
This is a stone in our own garden, by the way. Most of us don't see the light of day either.
"Tell me you don't intend to implement the idea of polygamy," Chaya said, quickly glancing over the only girl in the Nomad delegation. Two men who, to my surprise, were twins. One of them was looking at the city with admiration, and the other was throwing glances exclusively from a security perspective.
However, I shouldn't focus only on him—all the Nomads were turning their heads. Only Larrin had the sense not to show her impression of what she saw in Atlantis.
"Notice, I wasn't the one who brought that up," I said, noticing Kirik, Saya, and Teyla emerging from the side passage. Joining Trebal and Alvar, who were walking next to our guests, they all approached simultaneously. "Welcome to Atlantis, Larrin, Nevik. My name is Mikhail, I am the leader of the Lanteans."
Screw all that Nazi Ancient subtext. It's time to end all this genetic stratification. Do we live in Atlantis? Yes. Are we the Ancients? Again, yes. So we're Lanteans. And anyone who thinks otherwise can rotate on their level of existence and generate energy. I can even help build a generator—we won't have too much.
The girl threw a glance at the male twin standing on her right. But I was addressing the one on her left...
"Does our negotiation include a story about how you know me and my chief scientist?" the Nomad girl asked in a slightly irritated voice.
"Maybe someday," I promised, looking at my companion. "This is Chaya Sar, my chief scientist. Teyla, a representative of the Athosians," Emmagan barely interested the newcomers. "Officer Kirik and Saya are in charge of our security. You already know Commander Trebal and Officer Jensen."
"Acquainted," the twin standing next to Larrin said. "I want to see my man whom you're holding against his will."
"In that case," the insolent one should be put in his place immediately, "I'd like to see our battleship that you're holding without any right to do so."
The twin looked at me with a hateful gaze but remained silent in response to the retort.
"Captain Asan," oh, so that's his name, "is worried about his man who's..." Larrin looked at me with a squint, ."..staying with you."
So, so, so... A diplomat and a warrior.
Mind and force.
I suspect it's no coincidence they both flew here, even though only one Nomad starship was supposed to return. I think someone on their Council did guess, or at least assumed, they were looking for copper on Athos, but there's a chance it's actually gold.
If Asan had been at the negotiations, I wouldn't have even bothered with trifles—I'd have issued an ultimatum, actually planted a beacon on their hull (instead of telling the spy about it without getting anything in return), and waited for the situation to resolve. Or just asked for the frequency of someone I could talk to like an adult.
And despite the fact that, as I recall, Larrin is also just a ship commander, in reality, she carries more weight here than Asan.
"Fair enough," I said. "I think we should go to the Council Chamber and start the discussion. Or, perhaps, you'd like to rest and eat first?"
"We're not hungry," the twin, Asan, said.
"As you wish," Larrin said, giving him a withering look. "I wouldn't mind a walk through the city of the Ancestors and a brief personal introduction to you, Mikhail. Leader to leader."
Asan shot her a look promising a lot of unpleasantness during their private conversation. But he remained silent. His twin brother was still looking around at everything, like a boy in a fairy tale.
Trebal coughed into her fist, boring a hole in the Nomad woman's back with her gaze. Chaya, meanwhile, silently ignored the thinly veiled hint at thick circumstances. There was the difference in temperament—Trebal, for all her bravado, was less confident than Chaya.
"In that case, I'd be happy to provide our guests with quarters to rest. Everyone will be notified of the meeting time via the city's intercom," Chaya nodded meaningfully without further ado and, as a welcoming hostess, politely gestured toward the nearest transport booth:
"Captain Asan, Scientist Nevik, please follow Officer Kirik and Saya. They will show you to your rooms. If you need anything, you can always contact Saya—she will be on duty in the hallway for your safety."
And Chaya herself, along with Trebal, would be studying the data on the Nomad ships that our camouflaged jumpers in orbit around Athos relayed to her every half hour.
"I think I'll take a walk to the residential sector too," Alvar said, sizing up Asan with a glance. It was obvious there would be no problems with Nevik. But his brother was definitely capable of being problematic. However, I think when they meet their spy, who is in the apartments adjacent to the ones we prepared for the guests, they'll have time to talk.
Teyla silently joined the escort of our guests. Only Larrin, Trebal, and I remained by the main staircase.
The Nomad woman, throwing a glance at the latter, asked me with a cocky smile:
"Does a private meeting make you so uncomfortable that you decided to keep the commander of a warship with you?"
Larrin, the Nomad woman.
"It's a matter of..." I said, thinking of a reason.
But Trebal beat me to it.
"I think I have things to do," she said, meeting Larrin's heavy gaze. The Dorandan and the Nomad woman eyed each other for a few seconds, after which the latter pretended not to notice her at all.
"Interesting officers you have, Mikhail," she chuckled, letting me know the situation had given her food for thought.
"Look her in the eye," the earpiece hissed in Trebal's voice. "There's only room for one bitch in your entourage. And that spot's taken by me! She doesn't even have the gene! Only sys... Ahem, my curls are better."
"Completely agree," Chaya's voice sounded on the same frequency. "I hope for your prudence, because one-on-one, she'll pull out the most basic but effective feminine tricks. Don't be frank with someone who puts herself on display."
Given that the prevailing women's fashion in Atlantis was for big curls or straight hair, Larrin's hairstyle looked much more exotic.
Much like her entire outfit, as if confiscated from a female biker, and even one with a smaller build.
I'd argue about the... hair, though. The Nomad woman clearly had more than both of them, but we're negotiating here. Although, it seems to me that after this meeting, my ladies will definitely move from words to actions. I wonder if the "I have a headache" excuse will work or not?
"Not only me, Larrin," I said with a polite smile, making an inviting gesture toward the passage to other parts of the spire. "I think Atlantis has a couple of places where we can talk on the way."
"I fully rely on you, Mikhail," Larrin cooed in a sugary voice, unbuttoning a couple of buttons on her leather jacket and, with one light motion, standing there in a leather corset top with wide straps spread over her tanned shoulders. And the neckline... "So, show me. I'm interested in everything in this city, but there's nothing to show..."
You don't say... And here I was thinking Chaya was right.
True, unlike both of them, I knew in advance that all these cleavage tricks for Larrin were just a way to embarrass and loosen his tongue.
"Allow me to offer you a spot with a magnificent view of Atlantis," I said, maintaining a polite smile as I redirected my inviting gesture. "I'm sure you know how to find advantage in beautiful views."
Despite the anger that appeared in her eyes, Larrin answered me with the same fake smile.
* * *
When the whirlwind in uniform burst into her laboratory, Chaya was already mentally prepared for a verbal altercation.
"Don't tell me he didn't know about her," Trebal said, grabbing a mug of Chaya's vitamin drink and taking a sip. "Disgusting. I'd rather drink Athosian herbal tea than this."
"Taste and color, people are different," Chaya stated philosophically. Catching Trebal's gaze, she explained: "A Wraith proverb. I read it in an explorer's journal from the Taken planet."
"Hmm," Trebal squinted, dropping onto the chair opposite Chaya's desk. "And Koschei hasn't eaten in a while..."
"Trebal," Chaya's eyes widened. "Don't even think about it. We have negotiations. A chance not just to secure at least a mutually beneficial agreement with a race that has ships, but also to obtain what is most likely a fully combat-ready last-generation battleship. The best chance we've had in weeks, rather than searching for it across the galaxy."
"As if the Nomads would turn down a deal-ultimatum just because one bitchy lady gets lost in our corridors," the Dorandan sniffed, putting the glass back on the table. "I'm sure that 'Captain Asan' wouldn't object to eliminating a rival whose leadership he doesn't approve of."
"That captain isn't all Nomads," Sar objected. "And even though we could blow up their ships with just a couple of projectiles, that doesn't mean spending them on that is a good idea. We already have the Genii as potential enemies, and the Wraiths as sworn ones. Maybe, for a change, we should find allies who can make something other than moonshine disguised as wine?"
"Diversity," Trebal's eyes flashed. "Did you see how she sticks out her..."
A delicate knock came from the entrance. Both Ancients turned their heads, embarrassing Teyla, who stood in the doorway.
"Come in," Chaya invited her. "Have our guests settled in?"
"Yes, but only one of them liked everything," the Athosian said, modestly sitting on one of the chairs. "Captain Asan didn't even look into his quarters; he immediately went to that spy."
"We knew that would happen," Chaya nodded. "We're recording everything they say and will study it later."
"Spying on our negotiation partners is a first for me," Emmagan said sheepishly. "Athosians prefer to deal with honest people. And the Nomads don't strike me as the kind who'd stab you in the back."
"They have energy weapons," Trebal snapped irritably. "Knives are for primitives..."
Catching Chaya's warning look, the commander of the Hippaforalkus fell silent.
"That was a figure of speech," Teyla explained, smiling cautiously as if afraid to anger anyone present.
"It's fine," Sar assured her with an approving smile. "Trebal is just... a little on edge."
"Why don't you share those calming drinks you take?" the Dorandan shot back. "I refuse to believe you can be this calm when that woman," she glared in the direction where she assumed Mikhail and Larrin were, "is wandering around our city."
"I see the Nomad lady has made an impression on you," Teyla's smile widened slightly. She seemed to realize such conversations weren't held around strangers, and that being privy to this made her a full participant in the discussions. "Larrin... is ambitious."
"Who even wears a tight military uniform?" Trebal grimaced. "Primitive vulgarity to create cheap hype around her worthless person."
Chaya and Teyla exchanged glances, but both remained silent, refraining from suggesting the Dorandan look in a mirror.
"And her neckline?!" the battleship commander continued to rage. "She wears a bodice with a décolleté practically down to her midsection! I almost killed her when I saw what she was wearing to the negotiations! And that jacket is clearly so the 'surprise' wouldn't be noticed from the start! She's creating intrigue!"
Teyla looked down at her own outer clothing — some Athosian top she wore with her uniform trousers. Under Chaya's slightly amused gaze, the girl silently put on the jacket she'd been carrying and buttoned it up to the collar.
Teyla Emmagan.
To Chaya, all these actions from the other two women only brought a smile. It wasn't that she was 'for' various kinds of... diplomatic liaisons... But on the other hand, what could she do to prevent it?
Walk around as their chaperone?
Rewrite security codes to monitor Mikhail and his guest?
Pump the air out of the room they were in and use hypoxia to, along with Trebal, throw Larrin off the highest point of the central spire?
No, she could certainly try all that, but...
She had done something similar in the past.
And if for Trebal, life ten thousand years ago remained a conditional 'yesterday,' then for her... No, she hadn't remembered anything from what happened or what she knew when she was Ascended. That knowledge was either locked in her subconscious or erased and lost.
But as she suspected, if the first option was correct, her attempts to regain that knowledge would prove catastrophic. Not only for her mind, which would have to confront a colossal volume of information, but also for the lives of everyone around her.
Yet somehow, all those ten thousand years, even outside her consciousness, had affected her. Not that it shaped her worldview to look down on others from the height of her life's wisdom and maturity, like a parent watching children.
But sometimes it seemed to her that, despite her body's biology, she still invisibly felt a fragment of the universe's inaccessible wisdom. And she approached most questions from a philosophical standpoint.
Sometimes the best way to understand something is simply not to interfere.
After all, she was a scientist, and one method of scientific understanding of the essence of things and processes is the method of observation.
"Oh, come on," Trebal's eyes blazed with a conspiratorial fire, and her voice dropped to a whisper, "let's get her drunk on that Athosian alcohol and invite her for a walk on the observation deck?"
Chaya felt awkward. At least in the sense that the observation decks in the city, either through builder oversight or due to Atlantis's unfinished construction, were small platforms with a single exit, a couple of side walls, and... a lack of railing on the way to the edge of a tower, pier, or any other part of Atlantis.
Falling from there into the water or crashing onto the city's construction structures was so easy that...
"I'm getting scared," Teyla admitted. "Tell me you're not serious. You're not serious, right?"
"Trebal is just joking," Chaya assured her.
"While you're all joking around," Fren appeared in the doorway, "our only Lantian has taken his new girlfriend to the observation balcony of the control room! And that, by the way..."
"Is one of the most romantic spots in the city," Trebal's voice sounded like it could freeze a star.
Chaya frowned, noticing that her vitamin drink had stopped steaming. It shouldn't have cooled to the city's comfortable temperature that quickly... It was just a coincidence, wasn't it?
"I hope he intends to throw her off the balcony himself," Trebal pretended to be interested in the lacing of her own boots. "Anyway, ladies! I suggest we don't worry needlessly. She's basically nobody, just a pretty cover! Unlike us, who have been with him almost from the start! Comrades aren't traded for aging dames whose beauty will soon fade!"
Satisfied with herself, the battleship commander looked triumphantly at the other three girls in Chaya's lab.
"Actually," the latter said quietly, "you're the only one who's worried about this. Even Teyla is calm."
"I don't think what's happening concerns me," the other replied modestly. "Or that I could influence Mikhail's decision..."
"An amazingly correct thought from a girl from a prim..." Fren stopped and smiled apologetically at the Athosian, "from such a young race. We should learn patience from her."
"Agreed," Chaya nodded.
Trebal mumbled something between agreement and a plan to plant a tactical nuclear device right in Larrin's décolleté. It was hard to make out, and it sounded about the same.
"I've set up a meditation room in one of the empty chambers next to the training hall," Teyla shared. "I go there to calm my mind and learn to control my inner aggression. If you want, I can show you some Athosian meditations..."
"To hell with meditations," Trebal said decisively. "More Athosian wine!"
"Does she even know what alcoholism is?" Fren asked, looking at Chaya.
The scientist girl knew a lot about her friend-rival.
But on this specific question, she had no answer.