"I expected more dust here," I said, looking around the dispatcher room.
Our conversation, or rather its introductory part, about how Chaya became the sole representative of the Ancients among all Proculucians, had ended in the Arcturus project laboratory. A laboratory that was very familiar—I'd seen it quite well lit up in the series.
Laboratory of the Arcturus project. Frame from the series.
But there, when it was discovered by Earthlings, it was covered in such a layer of dust that it felt like an ancient tomb. There were a few skeletal remains in the lab, though.
But not now. It seemed Chaya had cleaned up properly here.
"I've brought relative order," Sar confirmed my suspicions, walking past the activated consoles and monitors. I hoped she'd just powered them on, not the whole project.
I really hoped so.
"So," I spotted a simple armchair, clearly not of Lantian design, and plopped down into it. Chaya mirrored my gesture but used a small stool in the corner. Judging by the couple of backpacks nearby with food peeking out, this piece of furniture doubled as her dining table. "General Hippaphoralkus was impressed by you, but none of your fellow countrymen were suitable for initiation."
"It was possible to implant the gene in them; it probably would have taken," Chaya said. "But initiation is more than just simple genetic enhancement. You can't turn a farmer who doesn't even know that stars are more than just lights in the night into an Ancient."
"Genetic therapy for body enhancement works with a certain physiological base," I realized. "And, I suppose, it has limits for improving the human body."
"Exactly," Chaya said sadly. "That's why applying it to underdeveloped peoples is quite foolish. That's why my people stayed at the same level of development—the Lantians didn't want to waste resources on us, as they had other candidates in mind."
"But they didn't let you stay with them. Why?"
"To become a developed race worthy of joining the 'lesser races,' it's not enough to have a long-lived leader capable of handling Ancient technologies," Chaya explained. "Evolution goes hand in hand with technological progress; they're useless without each other. There's no point in creating advanced industry for farmers—they wouldn't understand what it's for anyway. And mastering such technologies requires centuries of use, scientific progress, and so on…"
"So, you joined the Ancients."
"Yes. The general promised it would ensure protection for my people. The Lantians needed everyone smart enough to help in the starting war. I was one of them. But since they treated me like a deceiver, I had no significant influence in the early stages of the war with the Wraiths. And then General Hippaphoralkus died."
"And you were left without a patron."
"And my people—without protection. The Lantians suffered one major defeat after another. They recalled starships from one planet to another, losing even more, exposing their rear and flanks. Alone, I couldn't protect Proculus as a human. Even if I could."
"You needed to find a new patron."
"And I did," Chaya admitted. "He was… a wonderful man, a prominent scientist. He wasn't on good terms with the Council either, but he was open to new ideas. Many lesser races respected him, so in a way, he was an icon of scientific progress in the Lantian Confederacy. He was interested in some of my work, and we… grew close," she added the last words with some embarrassment. "Such things weren't welcomed among Lantians, though… we didn't pay much attention to it. While the Council thought victory should come on the battlefield, our team, like many others, sought a way through science. And we found it…"
"The Arcturus project?" I clarified.
"That project became the tombstone," Chaya smiled bitterly. "Before it, I made… several more dangerous mistakes."
"For example?"
"I created a nanovirus that was supposed to destroy Wraiths at the cellular level."
A chill ran through me.
"Wait a minute," I said. "There's a lab on Atlantis with a nanovirus that killed everyone without the Ancient gene."
Earthlings paid dearly for getting acquainted with that technology. And it ended exactly like what Chaya did right after her arrival— the nanomachines were disabled by an electromagnetic pulse.
Now I understood why she'd so purposefully eradicated that plague, not letting it escape. She was destroying her own experiment.
"That's it," the girl said. "When it went out of control, it wiped out an entire planet's population—almost completely. The project was shut down, but as always with Lantians, 'shut down' meant preserving all data on it to use later if new ideas came up."
"Correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't this project give rise to the humanoid replicators called Asurans?" I asked. "Billions of tiny nanomachines created to destroy Wraiths. But they became self-aware, started copying Ancients, their technology, and so on."
"You're right in broad strokes," the girl confirmed. "They decided to 'refine' my project. The Ancients were generally negative toward artificial intelligence in any form."
"Because of the replicators destroying one of the Four Great Races in the Milky Way, the Furlings?" I clarified.
"You know about that too," Chaya nodded sadly. "Yes, after that, a ban was placed on creating artificial intelligence. Or human-machines, cyborgs."
"So that's why the Ancients decided to destroy the Asurans," I realized. "Vietnam flashbacks… They feared it would happen again."
"Probably," Chaya shrugged. "They didn't want a repeat of the fate of the lesser Asur race, who specialized in robotics. They were the ones trying to refine my project, considering it promising."
"Asurs… Asurans… Tell me it's just a coincidence in naming?"
"In my time, no one called the humanoid nanite collectives copying Ancients 'Asurans,'" Chaya explained. "I picked that up from your speech. Asuras was a planet settled by the lesser Asur race. There were legends they were among the few who came with Lantians from the Milky Way, but I don't know if it's true. Anyway, the collectives created by the Asurs didn't behave as their creators wanted. In the end, the Lantians destroyed the planet."
"Along with the Asurs?" I tensed.
"By then they were all dead," Chaya explained. "The Council reported that out-of-control nanomachines killed them. But as you understand, it couldn't be verified. The Council banned experiments in that direction; all data on Asur experiments was destroyed. Official reason—flawed base solution."
"Meaning the one you created."
"Exactly. That's why they disliked me even more. By then, Ancient-controlled territories were shrinking. Action was needed. That's why Janus and I… Why did you cough?"
Thumping my chest to clear the cough, I looked at Chaya:
"Your new patron was Janus?"
"Yes. You know him?"
"I've heard. The guy created a time machine."
"Yes, but for some reason it didn't survive to the present," Chaya sighed. "The Council was against such experiments but turned a blind eye as the situation grew desperate. As long as Janus didn't cross the line, he could do whatever. So we embarked on an ambitious project… Use subspace, also known as hyperspace, to create disruptions in it specifically for Wraith hyperdrive technology."
Sweat broke over me a second time.
"The Aterro device," I said.
"Yes," Chaya said. "Since you know the name, you know what it is…"
"With induced disruptions, you wanted to either destroy Wraiths entering hyperspace or force them not to use hyperdrives. Then you could take them out one by one."
"But we didn't account for the disruptions interfering with Stargate operation," Chaya continued. "As a result…"
"…they started uncontrollably accumulating energy during activation while the Aterro was running," I concluded. Again, series universe knowledge came in handy.
And I was feeling less and less comfortable around Sar.
"The outcome—explosions of hundreds of Stargates," Chaya said. "In one moment, the Ancient population in Pegasus lost forty lesser races… Millions, if not billions, died. Both those long in the confederacy and those being prepared for initiation."
Your…
…mother.
Stargates consist of heaps of technologies, but the material with enviable durability—not to mention accumulating energy charge to create hyperspace tunnels across the galaxy and beyond (theoretically possible for any gate in Pegasus with minor tweaks)—is quite exotic.
Naquadah.
The same stuff in the core of the reactor Chaya built.
Gates are made of it too.
Roughly speaking, Naquadah is something between uranium and plutonium, but orders of magnitude more powerful. It can be equally effective as a WMD or an energy source.
If you pump Naquadah with energy… If you uncontrollably charge Stargates made of Naquadah, they'll eventually explode. And Naquadah amplifies the detonation. The planet where it happens can be crossed off the list of at least habitable worlds. At worst—off the list of planets. Asteroids—that's all that's left. Very, very small asteroids, I might add.
I couldn't imagine how Chaya slept with that baggage.
"What happened next?"
"They banished me from Atlantis," Sar said. "The Council forbade me from appearing in the city or any other Lantian Confederacy planet under penalty of death. They assigned me a prison term, but far from Proculus."
"Strange they didn't kill you."
"And Janus didn't stand up for you?"
"As it turned out, even a lover's position gives no leniency," Chaya smiled bitterly. "The only thing he did was ensure I wasn't executed but exiled. Since I was smart enough, and by war's end such personnel were too valuable to waste, at Janus's insistence, I was sent to help the Dorandans. Help them prepare the planet for defense, set up energy projects for planetary weapons."
"In the events I know, Janus didn't come off as such an asshole," I admitted. "Free thinker, but… He helped…"
"A woman he liked?" Chaya smirked. "Oh yes, he could be charming. Especially when defending me at trial. He emphasized my intellect, my origins, asked for leniency since I came from an underdeveloped world and clearly had no malice. His words about giving me a chance under experienced mentors even moved the Council. Most likely…"
"Wait a minute!" I exclaimed. "How did he avoid punishment? You worked on the project together!"
Moreover, some Aterro device materials are still stored on Atlantis. And yes, I don't touch them—it's risky again.
"For that, thank my own foolishness," the girl said. "Moros, Council head, as I understood, had long tried to hold Janus accountable. He suspected him in many projects the Council deemed dangerous. But it always turned out he wasn't involved. Only his students, friends, numerous lovers, as it turned out… But not him. Janus explained all claims with one phrase: 'They tried to imitate me, the brightest representative of Lantian science.'"
My built-in asshole detector was about to explode.
"You didn't rat him out," I realized.
"I was young, foolish, and in love," Chaya explained. "Plus, he said he'd do everything to let me continue my research, just away from the Council's eyes."
"Framed it like a 'clever plan'?"
"Something like that."
"They sent you to Dorandan?"
"The Dorandans were one of the last lesser Ancient races still holding against the Wraiths," Chaya said. "They were relatively young by Lantian standards, ambitious. And they really wanted Lantians to notice them. Their race became 'younger' later than mine, but their tech level was impressive. And as the war neared Atlantis's borders, ensuring energy for Lantian tech became critical."
"Why?" I asked, interested. "Lantians could make ZPMs in any quantity."
"Probably," Chaya said thoughtfully. "But I'd never heard of them doing it."
"Then where did they get ZPMs?" I suspected something off.
"The Asurs produced them," Chaya explained.
"Right," I stood and started pacing the lab. Careful not to bump anything. Last thing I needed was to activate that thing. "What did the Lantians create themselves?"
"Hyperdrives, homing projectiles, control chairs, warships, scientific equipment, generators, Stargates," Chaya listed without pause. "And thousands of other things, like jumpers. They were generators of progress. Lesser races handled routine. For example, when a race reached full Ancient trust, they got the secret of a technology and could produce it."
"For example?"
"I think Lantians produced ZPMs themselves in the past. But Asurs had been allies for long, so they got that privilege."
Unlikely.
"More examples?"
"Very few. Few could match Asurs—they rivaled Lantians in power and knowledge. But they were very few, so they took second roles."
"You talk like some were nipping at their heels."
"Yes. One lesser race, for example, built a copy of Atlantis," Chaya explained. "Ytranci. They were among the first to become lesser in Pegasus galaxy."
"And… what happened to them?"
"I don't know," Chaya admitted. "But the crew of the Tria battleship you mentioned were Ytranci."
"So, roughly, they're third on the celestials list after Lantians and Asurs."
"Most likely," Chaya supposed.
"What made those guys stand out?" I asked.
"They created Lantian military-research ships like Aurora, Hippaphoralkus, or that same Tria," Chaya said.
Okay, think on that info later. But it reminds me of something.
"Tell me about the Arcturus project."
"After the Asurs' death, ZPM stocks plummeted," Chaya said. "As I heard, last battleship versions went into battle without ZPMs. Energy crisis was building."
"And Dorandans thought if they solved it, mommy and daddy would love them more?"
"That's what Janus told them," Chaya explained. "I was to help… The project was in deepest secrecy. Officially, this complex was a simple gun platform, but I decided to link it to an energy source. By my calculations, Arcturus would produce enough energy from one generator to power a whole planet."
"Or warships with the mightiest weapons and impenetrable shields," I estimated.
"Or that," Chaya agreed.
From her look, the conversation weighed on her. But I wasn't backing down.
"Tell me more about the Arcturus project. Why did it go wrong?"
I knew some myself, but now I wanted firsthand data.
"The Arcturus project was developed as a ZPM replacement," Chaya explained. "You know what a ZPM is?"
"Besides a crystal filled with zero-point energy?" I clarified. "Not much."
"Not a crystal, but a group of crystals," Chaya corrected. "They serve as casing and safety for the artificially created spacetime region inside the ZPM."
"Pocket universe?"
"A microscopic part of it," Chaya clarified. "Zero-point energy is the minimal possible power level sustaining a system based on elements like photons, electrons, protons…"
"Quantum physics," I realized.
"Mmm," Chaya pondered. "Probably what your people call the discipline. In broad terms, a system on such principles, different from mechanics, needs a minimal energy source to keep it stable."
"Zero-point energy."
"Yes," Chaya agreed thoughtfully. "Point… Actually, that's a more precise term for what a ZPM is. A tiny point of artificial universe…"
"Don't get sidetracked," I asked.
"Yes, sorry," the girl smiled apologetically. "I'm… trying to make you understand what the leading Dorandan scientists and I tried to do. ZPM isn't called a battery for nothing—its energy is limited by the tiny spacetime piece trapped in the crystals. That piece was the quantum system giving energy. Compared to the real universe, what a ZPM holds is like one cell in a whole organism. And I thought, since Lantians couldn't create artificial spacetime regions anymore, we'd try drawing energy from our universe's spacetime. That way, we'd access unlimited energy."
Fairy tales of free electricity, but universe-scale… Perpetual motion nuts with their turbines smoking nervously aside.
"Why didn't Lantians try the same themselves?" I asked. "Seems easier to extract energy right under your nose than make dwarf universes in crystals. Right?"
"Not really," Chaya admitted. "First, Lantians had ZPM stockpiles, so no immediate need. But most importantly… Theoretically, the Arcturus project could destroy our universe."
"How?"
"If the universe is a system maintained by a certain energy level, what happens if you start draining that energy?" Sar asked.
"Eventually, the system collapses."
"Given the universe's infinity, unlikely," Sar admitted. "But there was risk of cascading system failure from weak spots."
"No matter how sturdy the house, pull bricks from the bottom and it won't need full demolition—it'll collapse itself."
"Exactly," Chaya confirmed. "So I never thought Arcturus was a panacea. Temporary solution until victory over Wraiths—possible. I did what I could to safeguard it. The generator was to draw energy not from the whole Universe but a small screened section with a force field to prevent collapse. Calculations showed it more than enough—not just for tests, but a source generating energy of dozens of ZPMs for millions of years. All from a spacetime area meters across."
"Sounds too good to be true."
"It was. Calculations too complex, project far from combat-ready. No tests even, so when the Wraith fleet arrived at Dorandan, after the order, I had no choice but link Arcturus to the Dorandan turret. By their plan, it was to be the base for new gun installations replacing Satellite sats or battleship pulse cannons, say."
"No other defenses on the planet?" I asked.
"There were, but ineffective against the armada. Had to activate Arcturus. Generator worked; at first, everything seemed perfect. Even minimal output sufficed for resistance. No one planned to push an experimental setup further. But unfortunately, forces I couldn't foresee intervened."
I stayed silent, though I guessed what she meant.
"Extracting zero-point energy from the spacetime area randomly and radically altered physics laws there," Chaya's voice filled with pain. "It led to continuous creation and destruction of unknown exotic particles inside the containment field. Since created in a region with radically different physics, their behavior was unpredictable in our spacetime. The shield couldn't contain them. Energy output grew geometrically. I used the gun to vent excess. Wraiths regrouping in orbit didn't understand what hit them—the installation equally destroyed hive ships, cruisers, and vaporized Arrows."
Now it made sense why no Arrow debris was found in orbit. As I thought—small craft can't survive hits.
"Then it got worse," Chaya continued. "The weapon ignored shutdown. It fired into surrounding space. City, Wraith ship debris… Everything became target. Thousands killed per shot. Dorandan engineers and I worked to stop the rampage."
"You managed to shut it down."
"Yes," Chaya sighed heavily. "But by then, only I and outpost personnel survived on the planet."
"But ruins everywhere…"
"Powered by Arcturus, Dorandan weapons didn't need direct hits," Sar announced. "Beyond impact, they carry radiation and exotic particles that, on contact with matter, cause horrific shockwaves. But that didn't doom Dorandan. Half the population survived the barrage… I called Atlantis for help, knowing there was a chance."
"And told them everything honestly?"
"Frankness is a benefactor," she said with a bitter smirk. "I hoped the Lantians could help. I hoped that even if they executed me, they would save the remnants of the Dorandan people. After all, they are the wisest of their kind. I hoped... Right up until the cooling reactor spewed accumulated exotic particles into space. They caused an uncontrollable expansion of the energy shield, its rupture with deadly radiation that spread across the entire planet. Instant death for millions—they didn't even realize what happened. And Dorandan and half its star system turned into a radioactive wasteland for ten thousand years," she nodded toward the consoles. "The automatic monitoring system recorded much of what happened here over the past ten thousand years. The radiation was so harsh that Wraith ships caught in the kill zone simply burned up from it. I think that's why they decided not to show up here anymore. So when the automatic defenses finally did their job and completed the test cycle, this system became a death trap for all life.
"But you survived!
"Only because General Hippaphoralkus, whom I thought was dead, helped me Ascend at the last moment of my life," Chaya explained. "From what I now know from my encryptions, they didn't like me there either. But breaking the Ascension rules allowed the others to exile me. And silently watch as millions and billions of sentients die, while I had the power to protect Proculus. But my protection stalled their development. Which is an even greater torment...
"How do you know what happened when you Ascended?" I asked. "Or was it in those phrases you deleted from your computer before I read them?
"Hide your failures," Chaya said. "Protection of your own made you an outcast," "You have no more defenders among the Ascended," "Being human is your only chance at life." Those are the theses I erased. I figured out part of the background myself, and you told me the rest.
"Maybe you know the hidden meaning of the other theses too?" I inquired. Chaya shook her head no.
"Others lie," "Blink," "It's all already happened," she repeated. "It means nothing to me.
But I have some guesses. Which, as the conversation with the captain of the "Aurora" showed, are best kept to myself.
"Why did you leave?" I asked. "The catastrophes happened ten thousand years ago.
"But my guilt in developing the nanites that doomed the Asuras, as well as my involvement in the "Arcturus" project, is undeniable," the girl said. "I created them with a flaw in the program—and that destroyed the Asuras. If you decided to return Ytranci to Atlantis, who were friendly with the Asuras, they would demand my execution. The Dorandans from the "Aurora" would demand exactly the same. You going to say I'm wrong?
"Trebel wants your death," I said honestly.
"I know I don't deserve to live," Chaya sighed. "I couldn't tell you everything because I was afraid you'd turn away from me too. I tried to replace an entire scientific staff for you alone, but I failed... You flew after the "Aurora." I had no choice... I did what I could to help you and left.
"You think I'm set on executing you?
Chaya looked at me with a weary gaze.
"Up until I left, I spent all my free time figuring out the reasons for the "Arcturus" project's failure," she explained. "Reworking blueprints, building models... I thought I could find the error... But when you saw them, I noticed recognition on your face. You didn't tell me about Dorandan, but I realized you knew about "Arcturus." Meeting and resurrecting the "Aurora" crew would have exposed me for sure. And... a conflict would arise.
"You decided not to put me in the position of choosing—defend you and lose Dorandan support, or throw you to them to devour but not let them execute your ally," I understood what all this was for.
"Did Seliza tell you?" Chaya asked.
"No, we haven't talked about it," I admitted. "But why did you think you had the right to make that choice for me?
"Because the "Aurora" commander is a Lantian," she said. "Not one of the least. Tribune Titus was on the Council, even if he was a junior advisor. But compared to you... He could easily get rid of you too. Even though I remember him as a man of honor, ten thousand years change sentients.
Presumably, Tribune Titus is the name of the "Aurora" commander. Something twinged inside... And I hadn't even bothered to find that out beforehand. You can really tell an educated, decent Earthling—being so grateful for having thoughts neatly shelved that you don't even learn the name of the one who sacrificed himself for you.
"He's dead," I briefly retold to Chaya everything related to the trip to the dreadnought and back. Except what the tribune told me about the most important thing. "In fact, I almost died too... If not for Seliza...
I fell silent, seeing Sar slap her face hard with her palm. A facepalm from an Ancient?!
"One day you'll just kill yourself," she looked at me with undisguised pity. "Of course, I'm guilty for not foreseeing this scenario... But I didn't even think Trebel knew how to reconfigure the chair! It's a very delicate and dangerous technology to do it like that, without the proper level of knowledge... You got lucky to get away with just minor brain damage.
Minor, yeah...
"The chairs on ships don't just perform minimal functions for a reason," she explained. "Without a full set of protective systems, they're very dangerous to the human mind! And Trebel's actions essentially put the chair into the ship's mental control system. Meaning, connecting to the ship from the command chair, you connected to the control chair! Without stabilizers and protection systems! It's deadly dangerous, that's why it's forbidden! Even controlling ordnance from such a chair is quite draining! And here...
On the outskirts of my mind came the thought: did Trebel try to kill me that way? Doubtful, really—she acted the same way herself. Seems she just didn't grasp the full seriousness. Picked up knowledge from the tribune, but without understanding its gravity.
Interesting that Chaya knows about it, but Trebel doesn't... Looks like Janus was pretty frank with her.
Janus... Either this is an extremely negative universe, or the original series didn't show just how big an asshole this guy was.
"Now do you understand why you need to come back?" I asked. "Without you, I'm in for a bright but very short life.
"Misha, I explained..." Chaya began. "Even from here, I'll have to go somewhere else after talking to you. Trebel is no fool. She was the prosecutor at my trial twice—on the nanites and the "Aterro" device. And only Janus's intervention...
"I don't give a damn about Janus and what happened ten thousand years ago," I admitted. "The Ancients can think whatever. But from my point of view, blaming a human whose project they shut down due to a flaw for it being flawed when they deployed it is overly biased. As is you alone being responsible for the "Aterro" failure. Their genius boy Janus was right there, keeping mum... Hm... You know, that's even funny?
"Death of millions is funny?" Chaya asked.
"No, death of millions is horrible," I admitted. "Funny is that on Earth, Janus was the name of an ancient Roman two-faced god...
Ancient Roman... "The Romans claimed their roads were taught to them by gods calling themselves Ancients," I recalled a line from the universe spoken by one of Earth's famous people.
Ancient Rome... Roads... Janus... Two-faced god... Two-faced...
Seems like one owl gets sick from touching a globe, but there's something in this logical chain...
"Order," it clicked in my head.
"What, sorry?" Chaya asked.
"You said you launched "Arcturus" because there was an order," I reminded her.
"Yes," she confirmed cautiously.
"And the one who gave it knew the project wasn't ready?
"Yes," Chaya looked at me in disbelief.
"Let me guess the name of the one who voiced that order," I smiled sardonically, looking at the confused girl. "Starts with 'J', ends with 'nus,' right?
Sighing, Chaya nodded.
"The monitoring system recorded everything that happened here, right?" I asked Sar. "Including communications with Atlantis? With Janus?
"Misha, please," it was pitiful to look at Chaya. "Janus is an unquestionable authority for all Ancients, even if partly rebellious. I told you all this not to reopen old wounds, but so you'd understand why I want to dismantle this outpost. The "Arcturus" project is a dead end, it's dangerous... I wanted to dismantle the installation and erase the data so you wouldn't repeat my terrible mistake!
"I don't give a damn about "Arcturus," I sighed. "Pack up, we're going back to Atlantis. And take the monitoring system's crystal with you.
"Misha, I can't...
"Women," I sighed, pulling the Ancients' electroshock weapon from my jacket pocket. "Walk yourself, or do I carry you?
Chaya, looking at me, just sighed bitterly:
"You don't appreciate at all what I did for you by leaving Atlantis.
"You're wrong," I objected. "I value you so much that I won't let one Ancient asshole's authority ruin your second life.
"But you'll ruin yours," Chaya sighed.
"We'll figure it out," I promised. "And yeah, stop stalling. Or I'll knock you out and carry you... You don't want me to feel all the seams on your new dress, do you?
"It's seamless," Chaya replied. "And there's nothing under it you haven't touched already...
"See, and you were scared," I smiled smugly.
And then it hit me.