Dinner, it seemed, promised nothing bad.
Tasty pieces of Athosian kid goat, marinated with carefully selected spices… Mm-m, delicious.
I look at this meaty splendor, some of which literally melts in my mouth, and I wonder. Either goats on Earth are different, or I just got unlucky with the ones I had, but Athosian young goats…
The taste is somewhere between young beef and lamb, but without that specific lamb aftertaste that I personally never liked. The meat is firm, not tough after marinating under a press, tender, juicy, and practically falls apart into fibers.
I remembered a story from a farmer I used to buy goat meat from — he said that in ancient times, goat meat was considered medicinal, and in European countries it's valued much more than lamb or beef, not to mention pork. I've never been to Europe, never tried their goat dishes, so I have nothing to compare it to.
Too bad that old man died about three years before I kicked the bucket myself. I don't know what he did with his goats, but unlike the ones I bought later from other farmers, his meat didn't stink with a reek that made your eyes water. And it clearly looked fresh. At first I thought something was wrong with me, but after cooking and trying it twice, I realized there was reason to visit the old farmer's grave and thank him for his work.
Enjoying the fried goat meat, I was replaying information in my mind that I didn't even realize I knew. The old farmer had said that goat meat surpasses other types of meat precisely because of the nature of goats themselves.
Goats are clean animals. They don't eat from the ground, won't touch feed that's dirty or smells bad, and don't mix eating areas with toilets. Because of this behavior, goat meat contains a wealth of vitamins, minerals, and fatty acids that are extremely important for humans. Their meat never has other parasites, it's easily digestible, low in calories, and suitable for allergy sufferers.
The old farmer was talkative and educated. Too bad I only asked him about the meat, not about how and with what he fed and cared for his farm. Maybe I could have told the Taranians, Efeyans, and Athosians something they don't know about homesteading.
Though, at the moment, after an exhausting day, I couldn't care less about agriculture on other planets. But that goat meat shashlik…
I wasn't an allergy sufferer, I wasn't counting calories, the taste and doneness of the meat were excellent, so… Well, what could possibly ruin a perfect dinner, huh?
"Making two parallel deals is a bad idea," Chaya said, sitting down to my right.
"Especially when the bitch doesn't know Asan is playing on her side," Trebal supported her, sitting down opposite me and brazenly snatching my cutlery to raid my pile of goat pieces. "I don't trust her, and the two of them together — even less."
To Trebal's left, Teyla settled at the table, meeting my gaze with her usual slightly guilty smile.
"Ladies," I said after chewing, looking at the girls in the order they'd interrupted my solitude. "Has anyone ever told you that interrupting a man's meditation while he's eating shashlik will come back to haunt you in the next life? Karma, she's a vicious bitch."
"Another bitch we don't know about?" Trebal dipped a piece of meat and put it in her mouth. "What tribe is this one from, your Karma?"
I liked her better as a plain "bitch," without the "jealous" qualifier. Worst part is, both Ancients took their appearance in my quarters and the fact of waking up in my bed as a signal to move to the next step. Both of them. Only, Chaya had barely changed, but Trebal…
I'm incredibly glad that the girls at least stopped having conversations that would have made Adolf Hitler weep with joy, saying "My girls!" But somewhere we took a wrong turn… It seems our cultural differences were telling me "no, they're not yours yet," and telling them "girl, if he didn't kick you out and covered you with a blanket, he's definitely yours!"
Is that a problem?
Yes, because that's when conversations like this happen. Conversations where, to my surprise, I also saw Teyla.
"Karma is the sum of all our actions in life, which determines our future incarnation after death," I explained as best I could. "It's from one of Earth's religions. The universal law of soul reincarnation."
"Nonsense," Trebal declared. "Judging by what you've told us about your past life, who you are in this one is clearly not the result of Karma's actions."
"Leave someone else's religion alone," Chaya defended the Indian beliefs that Trebal had unfairly maligned.
"Agreed," Teyla supported her. "Faith — everyone has their own. It shouldn't be a subject of condemnation, ridicule, or insult."
"The Crusaders would disagree with you," I sighed, watching Trebal wolf down my dinner. Ah, if only she'd leave me the onion mash! Like she's come from a famine-stricken land.
"I think we need another portion," Chaya said, watching the food disappear from the plate. Sar got up from the table and headed for the kitchen automats. "I'll bring it, don't worry."
"Thanks," I replied sincerely, realizing all that was left was the berry drink from Taranis. Reminds me of cranberries, only yellow in color. "At least someone still has manners."
"Sorry," Trebal's gaze held a touch of sympathy for me, whose dinner she was methodically demolishing as if a Wraith base lay before her. "It's so good I can't stop. And I've been hungry all day. Teyla," she looked at the Athosian. "Your people really know their craft."
Uh-huh. The fact that I'd prepared about twenty kilos of goat shashlik on three different grills on the balcony in near-freezing temperatures, with only Fren and Seliz helping me — she chose to ignore. Special thanks to Kirik for the spices — he found familiar herbs on the continent, something like parsley, dill, and other greens I recognized. Which, by the way, look very much like Earth plants.
I suspect the Ancients didn't just populate planets with life but also interfered quite a bit with the biomes of the worlds they inhabited.
"My people know a thing or two about raising goats," Teyla chimed in. "Young kids of one year undergo a purification ritual so the meat doesn't spoil its taste and smell."
"A purification ritual?" Trebal froze with her mouth practically full. "You don't call a monk, priest, or some other spiritual figure to the goats, do you?"
"Oh, no," Emmagan laughed. "It's not a spiritual rite."
"Good then," the Dorandan woman resumed finishing off my shashlik.
"They're castrated," Teyla added. "So the kid grows purebred and the meat doesn't get tainted by foreign tastes and smells."
Trebal froze with her mouth full, looked at me as if seeking an answer to the eternal question: "What do I do?"
"Chew, my dear," I said as kindly as I could. "For mom, for dad, and for the crew of the Aurora."
I don't know what she found so horrible in that, but our fine combat officer has a hang-up about words related to mutilation. Or maybe she didn't know livestock needs to be raised, fed, and prepared to be tasty after death?
Hmm… considering the Ancients massively used kitchen machines that turned meat, fruit, grains, and so on into various kinds of mushy substances, I wouldn't be surprised if Trebal and many others believe prepared food just appears in fridges by itself.
"Some berry drink?" I offered the girl politely. Trebal made an effort and continued eating.
"Did I miss something?" Chaya asked, returning with a plate filled with exactly the same dinner I'd had.
"We were discussing castration," I shared. Sar looked at us like a sane person stuck with psychopaths, and said nothing. "But I think it's time to get back to business. You may disagree with my decision, but the fact remains: we'll try to get the ship back peacefully. For now."
"You think Larrin and Asan won't manage?" Teyla clarified, understanding the subtext.
"I suspect they'll do everything they can to avoid losing contact with us. Both of them like the idea of settling on planets with a resource base nearby. But what they like most is the idea of us providing our facilities to restore their lost potential. However, I don't think they'll succeed. More likely, after they start convincing the Council that it has no rights to our ship and that the benefits of dealing with us outweigh trying to handle the situation alone, the ship will be taken from them. Or at least they'll try."
"And that's why you gave both of them the frequencies of your subspace transmitter?" Chaya clarified. "So they can report their failure?"
"Not exactly," I said, looking at Trebal. "Ready for a little fight?"
"I am," she replied in a detached voice. "But the Hippaforalkus isn't. Low on ammo, not enough energy for a prolonged battle."
"You never really hoped they could negotiate," Teyla realized.
"In my homeland, they say: 'Trust, but verify,'" I said, showing off my proverb knowledge. "I'd like to trust these guys. But Larrin herself said: if she'd had the chance to capture one of us, this meeting wouldn't have happened. They would have caught someone with the Ancient gene and forced them to cooperate. Negotiating from a position of strength is much easier than laying everything you have on the table for your opponent."
"That's why the Hippaforalkus is still in orbit around Athos," Trebal concluded. "You did put a beacon on their ship after all?"
"On both," I informed them. "The guys — both pilots and technicians — did precision work in the jumpers. They approached as close as possible under cloak, expanded the field, the techs went EVA, installed the equipment we needed aboard their ships, and flew off."
"We rely on cloaking technology too often," Trebal said. "We can't let it become our only trump card."
"Not the only one, but one that works excellently for us," I corrected her. "The Terrans used cloaking tech from the jumpers to hide the city on the surface when enemies were nearby."
"Replacing the shield with a cloak," Chaya understood. "We did the opposite on the jumpers, giving them an energy field. And we plan, once the work aboard the Satellite is finally finished, to install that same cloaking on its shields too."
"I've been thinking about trying something similar on our larger ships. Disappearing from enemy sensors, sneaking up, and striking from under cloak is a very valuable tactical move."
"Can't argue with that," Trebal nodded. "After all, the outpost in Emeg is also hidden using cloaking technology."
That's why scout Kaspar Fry didn't see it, mistaking the annex to the hangar-warehouse for a wing, not a corridor that had vanished from sight, connecting the buildings to the tower built by the Ancients.
It'll be a shame to dismantle that outpost.
We can't take the entire Ancient structure apart and move it to a new location — we can only take the equipment we brought there. That includes the control panel for the shield and cloak generator, the scanners and sensors we managed to repair. Essentially, from this spot we can control any movement of objects near Athos.
And Athos is one of our "bait."
The Ancient outpost in Old Town on Athos.
The defense system for the gates we need redirects any incoming wormhole with an object inside it within a range of a hundred or two gates from Athos, so the star map doesn't differ too much from the one on the target planet. It works the same for New Athos and our other planets. The program is set so that if someone tries to get to a protected planet ten times in a row without a recognition bracelet, the eleventh hyper-tunnel will send the persistent guest straight into our trap on Proculus. So far, no one that persistent has shown up. But I'm sure the Genii keep trying.
Right now, the lab for communicating with the cyborg is being dismantled on Athos. Since Saya is with us now, the special lab isn't needed. And, given Teyla's people's intention to return to their homeworld, there's no point in us staying there. Once we've taken everything we need, we'll remove the defense from the gates of Athos and New Athos.
"How's our project for training the Aurora crew in combat skills coming along?" I asked Chaya.
"We just finished configuring the entire network an hour ago," she said. "Now all our people, while in stasis, can train with weapons and hand-to-hand combat skills without any issues. Kirik is thrilled — both the skills develop and the people don't get injured. The ship's security service appreciates it."
Well, of course.
In Trebal's words, they're the most "primitive." They don't have the active Ancient gene, but some of them still want to be useful to the common cause. So they train.
The others… There will be problems with them. For now, their stance is wait-and-see, but when they get their bodies back… Well, I think I know how to handle them.
"While I was on Athos, I managed to find a dozen loyal, young, and strong men," Teyla said, taking advantage of the table's silence. "They want to serve Atlantis, but I haven't made any promises yet. Unfortunately, most of my people just want to be left alone. But the number of those who'd like to return to Athos is growing."
"I think our science team on Taranis could use reinforcements," I said. "The complex is huge, and it needs guarding. These guys will stay there for now, learn military skills."
"They could be useful in the ground missions we're planning," Trebal reminded me of the traps. "Extra firepower wouldn't hurt."
"These people know how to fight, but they're unfamiliar with firearms," Teyla warned. "I'm sure they'll learn quickly."
"We'll see," I promised. "Let them learn first."
"That's all well and good," Trebal said. "But you've planned a combat mission against the Nomads. Possibly," she stressed the word, "everything will go peacefully and they'll give us the ship. But more likely, there will be a boarding action. And there, we'll need people with weapons in their hands."
"We've already sent freshly trained soldiers against those who kill without flinching," I grimaced, remembering the slaughter on the platform. "The Nomads aren't nice guys or old friends. They see a target — they open fire. And the last thing we need is our new guys catching bullets. I don't want to offer condolences to their relatives and friends if they die a couple of days after joining us."
"In that case, we have very few people who can participate in the boarding action," Chaya concluded. "Alvar, Kirik, Saya, Teyla, Mikhail himself," she looked at me. "You're not going to let yourself be persuaded to stay away from the roar of guns, are you?"
"That's right," I confirmed. "I don't have much scientific knowledge, but I know how to handle weapons. Besides, I always have my shield at hand. And we're clearly short on people for ground operations. Speaking of which — how's the work on the Wraith subspace beacon going?"
"Not as fast as I'd like," Chaya admitted. "The frequencies and sub-frequencies are encrypted. I'm cracking them as fast as I can. But so far, no information about new transmitters."
"It might be a futile effort," Trebal voiced her opinion.
"Maybe," I agreed. "But it's worth checking. Our two former 'runaways' are doing fine and performing well in Atlantis's service."
"Though Alvar prefers piloting the 'arrow,'" Trebal noted. "And Kirik, even though he doesn't complain, finds it hard to ensure the security of a city that frightens him. A city where he barely understands anything and can do even less. He learns fast, but… I can see it in his eyes — he'd gladly return to the battlefield and shoot Wraiths."
"Yes, I noticed that too," Teyla supported her. "He's uncomfortable staying in the city without leaving. He's a man of action."
"A lot of people are uncomfortable," Chaya assured us. "Even the technicians who understand the regular processes. Being at the bottom of the ocean puts a lot of psychological pressure on people. Seliz told me that at least a third of our techs have already come to her for antidepressants. The city literally weighs on them."
Three pairs of eyes converged on me.
"Keeping the city underwater is very convenient in terms of protecting it from bombardment and invasion," I explained my logic.
"Also, it's an additional load on the ZPM," Chaya countered. "Environmental pressure drains it faster than if we kept it on the surface for emergencies."
"Can't the drilling rig take over powering the shield?"
"Once it reaches full capacity — maybe. We don't know the state of its systems at peak output, so I can't promise anything. At the moment, it's producing ten percent power, and I've already started transferring systems to draw from it to reduce the load on the ZPM."
"Would it drain slower under Wraith fire than underwater?" I asked.
"Depends on the intensity of the fire," Chaya warned. "The number of ships, the power of their weapons, and so on. However, we'll be launching the Satellite soon."
"And we have a combat ship with a small but still existing stock of ammunition," Trebal chimed in.
"Maybe we'll have a second one soon too," Teyla added. "Could that be enough to defend ourselves?"
"Besides," Trebal added, "you said the Terrans managed to connect an invisibility generator to the shield. We have long-range sensors that will detect ships approaching us long before we need to raise the shield. With two ships and a supply of drones, we can engage them far from the Lantean system."
"With three ships," Chaya said. "The Wraith starship, though slowly, is being restored. Without Teyla, of course, it barely functions, but at the same time, I think we'll be able to lift it into orbit soon. After major repairs, of course."
"That's the details," I sighed. "When we're ready, we'll lift it. What worries me most in this whole situation is that if the Wraiths attacked the city once, they'll clearly keep doing it."
"On the other hand," Teyla countered, "many weeks have passed since the battle with the Wraiths near the Aurora. And the Wraiths haven't appeared."
"They haven't even shown up on the scanners," Chaya confirmed. "It's likely they have other ideas about who we are and where the Ancient ship near the Aurora came from."
"Or the superhive destroyed a regular hive and the information was lost," Trebal suggested. "The Wraiths aren't the type to hesitate. But here — not a scout, not even a checking ship. I don't think we should worry. We definitely should lift the city to the planet's surface."
Breathe fresh air, bask in the rays of the local "sun.".. Tempting.
"First, let's do everything possible to ensure Atlantis's defense on the surface," I declared. "The new ship, the satellite, and all that. And only then do we go up to the surface. Not before. Meanwhile, we focus all attention on preparing for the battleship rescue operation. Trebal, prepare the ship, take Ihaar under your command. Gather spare parts for internal systems from those we have from the 'Aurora'. Soon, Larrin and Asan will return to their people, and we'll need to move out. By the time we arrive, they'll have had time to talk, argue, and we'll show up right at the end of the performance."
"A rather spectacular conclusion to negotiations, I must say," Trebal sighed.
The only funny thing about this situation was that by the end of the discussion, the supplement brought by Chaya remained untouched.