"Two minutes and it'll be ready," Chaya said, removing from Teyla's vein a thin, barely noticeable crystalline needle. The transparent vial, the size of a little finger, filled to the brim with the Athosian's venous blood, was carefully disconnected from the sampling device and placed into the receiving slot of the Ancient computer. The Proculian secured a strip of healing plaster over the puncture site, then moved to the control panel for the device. Her fingers danced over the glowing panel.
"Do you think it will be possible to implant that gene Mikhail talked about?" Teyla clarified, watching the Ancient's actions closely. She might have said she wasn't too strong in medicine, but she acted confidently nonetheless.
"It's unlikely to succeed," Chaya admitted. "Genetic therapy, even in the best of times, didn't implant this gene in every sentient being. And the response coefficient was extremely low. Only after generations was it possible to strengthen it through combining genes of varying strengths and interventions. I want to examine your blood to check something."
"Do you think I'm sick?" Teyla asked, concerned.
"No," Chaya smiled. "I scanned you and Alvar on the first day. Your health is quite satisfactory, considering the level of development of your culture."
"Then why do this?" Emmagan continued to inquire.
"In the time the Ancients were absent from the galaxy, much has changed," the girl said. "Including the biomes of the planets you and Jensen visited. New microorganisms unknown to the Lanteans, diseases, and so on, have emerged. I suspect you've had some of them. If antibodies remain in your blood, it will allow me to develop medicines in case Mikhail or I get infected."
"I understand," Teyla said. "My people would be grateful for such help. Our healers do their best, but with machines like these," she looked with poorly concealed admiration at the numerous Ancient devices arranged in the medical bay. "Many lives could be saved."
"Probably," Chaya agreed after thinking. "However, we shouldn't deify our technologies. They can do much that your doctors can't, but not everything. I doubt there's a cure for all diseases. For example, despite all their history, millions of years of evolution and technological progress, the Ancients never managed to defeat the simplest cold. It seems like an ordinary ailment, but it's precisely what allows our bodies to strengthen their defenses against harmful agents."
"Among my people, there's a legend that the Ancients could heal people just by touching them," Teyla recalled.
"Yes, that's possible," Chaya confirmed. "However, to do that, one needs to develop their body and mind far beyond the state I'm in or Mikhail's. Perhaps someday we'll approach the Lanteans, but..." she forced a smile, looking at the Athosian. "Not today. And not tomorrow."
"The main thing is not to give up," Teyla smiled diplomatically.
The girls were silent for a while, after which Emmagan asked:
"Is there disagreement between you and Mikhail?"
Chaya, staring continuously at the monitor, froze for a moment, looking away as if trying to find words for a response. Then she looked at the Athosian and nodded in confirmation of the accuracy of her guess.
"You don't like that he doesn't share his secrets with you?" Teyla assumed.
Chaya didn't answer, pursing her lips and looking at her hands. Unlikely she was interested in them specifically, but... It seemed she was just embarrassed and the Ancient was searching for suitable words.
"I can keep secrets," Teyla assured her. "Especially since I myself know how sometimes you need someone to confide in."
"It's not about Mikhail himself," Chaya said, looking at her. "I don't remember what happened to me when I was Ascended, but memories of life in a human body remain. And I remember well who I was and what I did. There are actions I'm very ashamed of, that I don't pride myself on. And I also know that Mikhail behaves just like a typical Lantean toward assimilated peoples. He puts his own designs first and gives orders. I'm afraid it will all repeat—and we'll learn the truth only when it's too late."
"I don't think scandals can fix anything," Chaya said. "We could just sit down and discuss everything alone..."
The Ancient looked at her skeptically.
"Or," Teyla sighed, "we should accept as a given that men in no community like to talk about their affairs."
"And the higher a man's position, the less he wants to share his plans with subordinates," Chaya sighed. "Sometimes we're no more than service personnel to them."
"I wouldn't say Mikhail treats us like servants," Chaya objected. "He's not a model of virtue, of course, but not a tyrant either."
"Maybe," Chaya smiled sparingly. "But I think once he learns something about his genetics, he'll sharply reconsider his attitude toward us."
"Is he sick with something?"
"If an boundless ego and self-opinion can be called a disease, then I think he's in nearly terminal stage," Chaya admitted. "You see... The Ancient Technology Activation gene wasn't invented just like that. It's a special part in our blood that many Lanteans and peoples close to them inherit from generation to generation. Though our descendants call all peoples close to the Lanteans Ancients or Ancestors, there's a big difference between us. Primarily in that the Lanteans were and remain the titular race of the Ancients in the Pegasus galaxy. All those who joined them..."
"Were slaves?" Teyla was horrified.
"No, what are you," Chaya was taken aback. "The main ideology of the Ancients is freedom of choice and the consequences that choice entails. But, let's say... The Lanteans weren't in a hurry to acquaint the races they assimilated with all their knowledge. Yes, they revealed the secrets of the universe to us, but only those we could understand and comprehend. Some races perished at the hands of the Wraith without managing to cope with even this basis. From other races, like mine, only some understood the value of the gift provided to us. We strove to comprehend the full scope of Ancient knowledge. But when it came to certain categories of knowledge, the Lanteans refused to reveal those secrets. They said we were too young for that."
"Were those knowledges dangerous?" Teyla clarified.
"Many of them—more than you think," the Ancient admitted.
"Maybe they still did the right thing?" Emmagan asked. "We, though not as developed as the Ancients, still don't give our children knives even for cutting meat until they understand how dangerous those objects are. Some understand this at a young age, others even as adolescents treat our warnings lightly."
"That's roughly how they explained their decisions," the Ancient smiled. "But not everyone understood and accepted their warnings. This led to significant problems within Ancient society. And we, the younger peoples, saw that problems could have been avoided, but the Lanteans weren't in a hurry to listen to our ideas. In the end, almost all younger races perished in the war with the Wraith, and the Lanteans themselves left this galaxy."
"Do you think Mikhail is as deaf to arguments and your advice as other Lanteans?"
"More than that," Chaya sighed. "Genetically, he's more Ancient than I am. The strength of his gene corresponds to a good value among Lanteans. And I'm afraid that will play a cruel joke on him. That's why I don't want to tell him he can interact with Ancient technology better than I can."
"Why not? You said better interaction makes it easier to control. Isn't that good?"
"You see, a strong Ancient gene in itself is a boon. Because it gives access to connection through neural interfaces of the Lanteans' most complex equipment. For example, control over the command chair, or mental commands to shuttles. He can do this with a fleeting thought. But I need concentration and attention. Where he can do several things at once with the same chair, for example, adjusting shield parameters, controlling engines, weapons, hyperdrive systems, or blocking parts of the city, I can only do one thing, maybe a couple. Yes, of course, I can turn on systems with good old buttons on control panels, but... It's not quite the same as mind control."
"So, he's stronger than you in some ways, and you surpass him in others," Teyla understood. "And you think he'll refuse your help if he learns what's really happening?"
"There's a chance," Chaya admitted. "And I'm afraid in that case he'll make an irreparable mistake. You know, I and several colleagues from the Lesser Ancients even developed a theory that the quality of the Ancient gene also affected brain chemistry. Because of that, the Lanteans weren't as farsighted as they should have been."
"And you decided Mikhail would be just as shortsighted," Teyla gasped.
"Yes."
"So you decided it's better to keep this knowledge from him so he doesn't make stupid mistakes?" the Athosian smiled embarrassedly, looking into Chaya's eyes. The Ancient nodded affirmatively, examining images on her screen.
"It seems you recently condemned other Lanteans for this," Emmagan innocently pointed out the logical flaw in the Proculian's reasoning.
"But I'm doing it for good intentions!" Chaya objected.
"Just as we on Athos protect our children from dangers," Teyla agreed. "But... you couldn't not think that the Lanteans did exactly the same to you for the same reasons?"
"I thought about it, of course, we talked about it..."
"But you condemn their behavior, but not your own," Teyla spread her hands. "You're angry at Mikhail for not sharing his plans with you. But... maybe he doesn't see the same from you, so he's cautious?"
The Proculian froze in place, furrowing her brows at the bridge of her nose, then looked at the Athosian in bewilderment. Teyla, in her usual conciliatory manner, smiled.
"Among us they say 'Don't point the finger at the one who looks just like you'," she shared an old Athosian wisdom. "You want to protect him from mistakes, he wants to help us all... I think we just need to tell each other our hidden thoughts and concerns. On Athos, such conversations and joint meditations help avoid family conflicts."
"I doubt he knows even one pose for meditation," the Ancient grumbled unexpectedly. "Most likely he'll just fall asleep as soon as he tries to achieve harmony of mind and spirit."
"Should we condemn him when you haven't even started?" Emmagan asked. "Try it, it's surely worth it."
Chaya was distracted by a sound signal from her folding computer.
"The Gate has activated," the Ancient said. "Mikhail and Alvar are returning. It seems they found what they were looking for."
"Should we meet them?" Teyla suggested.
"Your blood analysis isn't finished yet," Chaya said. She looked toward another computer, then said. "And besides, data has come in from the reconnaissance drone I sent to the satellite... We need to study all this before telling the others..."
"Running from the problem and the conversation isn't the same as solving it," Teyla prompted. "If you don't plow the garden in warm weather, it'll be too late to grieve over the ruined harvest come cold."
"You know," Chaya pulled away from the computer and lifted her chin. "I'm not arrogant like the Lanteans. And not haughty like them. I'll go and talk to him. Honestly and openly!"
"That's the spirit," Teyla approved.
"But," the Ancient returned to her computer, feigning a focused work expression, "tomorrow."
Smirking, Emmagan approached her interlocutor and grabbed her by the arm.
"Don't make me remind you that the Ancients got many problems from unwillingness to listen to younger peoples," she said, easily pulling Chaya toward the exit.
"I shouldn't have told you about it," Chaya grumbled.
"On the contrary," Teyla smiled dazzlingly. "You're taking steps on a path different from the one the Lanteans took. Perhaps our path won't have the mistakes they made?"
"I'd very much like that," Chaya darkened.
*
After arriving in Atlantis, I had two questions right away.
First: why meet us in the Gate Room if we ended up going to the lab to connect the probe to the scanners anyway?
Second: and what did the girls discuss during our absence that Chaya stopped pretending I didn't exist?
Be that as it may, the probe we brought, which I remembered contained the knowledge of an entire alien race, turned out not to connect to the Ancient computer just like that. Time was needed.
Time was also needed to connect something like hard drives that Alvar and I extracted from the servers and also brought to Atlantis. Yes, the first trip for weapons turned into delivering a large amount of informational good for us. Yes, we brought rifles and ammo too, but just a few crates. Two, to be precise. The rest simply didn't fit in the Jumper.
It would be stupid to sit and wait while Chaya figured out connecting the information sources. So the most obvious solution was to continue what we started. But there was a surprise; it didn't go without initiative.
"The preparations on Athos are coming to an end," Teyla reminded. "Chaya has already found us a suitable planet that's safe."
"Such data was provided by the reconnaissance drone," the Ancient clarified. "But it can't assess everything. I left it in low orbit; it's scanning the planet. There hasn't been a trace of Gate openings the whole time. Examination of the DHD indicates the Gates haven't been used for at least a thousand years. No signs of settlements detected, so most likely you'll be the first to settle there in a long time."
"The Wraith might have forgotten about this planet for a while," Alvar said. "But that doesn't mean the new world is free of threats from them. It would be better if I train a few people to handle rifles."
"That would help us protect ourselves in case of threat," Teyla picked up.
"And the unlooted warehouses on your planet just stay?" I clarified with the Runner.
"You have a ship, you have free time," he shrugged. "I think if you try hard, you can fly right to the storage in the 'Jumper'. That would make loading everything easier."
Teyla and Alvar took a crate of rifles with them, as well as a dozen magazines for each. Training the recruits on Athos is about to start, yes.
So, everyone has important things to do; I'm free as an asteroid falling on dinosaurs' heads. But as it turned out, not everything is so simple.
By my calculations, the 'Jumper' could only enter the tunnel with engines retracted into the hull. That is, in the state it's in when parked on the 'lot' or passing through the Gate. And in that position, the ship can't stay for long—the automation doesn't allow it.
So, I'd have to periodically 'spread wings' to recharge the antigravity cushion. Or whatever the 'Jumper' uses to fly in that position. I think corridor intersections would work for that; there's several times more space there than in the tunnels themselves.
Be that as it may, even the thorniest path through corridors to the storages is better than manually hauling dozens of weapons units on my back. Fortunately, Alvar dispelled my doubts about the explosiveness of grenade and mine storage. The locals made them quality, so no need to worry about corrosion or physics jokes.
Well, since we've decided to empty the storages on this planet, no need to worry about masking the complex. A pair of drones sufficed to destroy the masked tunnel entrance. Then it was just a matter of technique—turn the 'Jumper' stern forward and back up. As stupid as it sounds. Just don't say it out loud.
Without the ship's advanced piloting system with mental command response, I fear I couldn't have maneuvered so precisely in the tunnels without rearview mirrors. Even so, it was nearly scraping on turns.
Jensen explained how to find the other warehouses—they were just a kilometer apart along the tunnels. Estimating from the complex map compiled with the 'Jumper's scanners, I realized there were about fifty warehouses total. Well, I hope Teyla and Alvar won't slack off as loaders long enough to help me.
On the second solo 'run', I abandoned the method of loading weapons in crates. Even with Alvar, we transported weapons like this: first take a crate of automatics, remove the fillers for careful rifle and pistol storage, fill it with loaded magazines or loose ammo to fill the space, then place the crates in the Jumper's cargo hold. Information carriers were stored in the cockpit then, but now I had no time for such logistics games.
I must say, the weapon manufacturers on Jensen's homeworld were quite inventive about safety. I realized this when I decided to scan grenades and mines to verify their safety. Basically, standard mechanism—casing, explosive inside, detonator threaded through the center, activated by pulling the pin. The safety lever allowed delay, but testing the exact delay wasn't in my plans yet. The design's highlight was that inside, between the explosive and detonator, there was a dielectric material that only disintegrated upon detonator activation. In fact, without fully pulling the pin, you couldn't extract the dielectric. That's why Jensen was calm about safety.
However, testing the dielectric's resistance to impacts and falls I'd do another time.
***
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