"The platform is not ready for use!" Chaya's hologram shook her head. "The consequences could be unpredictable!
"The Wraith fleet is in orbit over Dorandan," objected the hologram of a tall, thin man with short, slightly curly dark hair. "You're cut off from the Stargate, evacuation is impossible!
"If the experiment goes out of control, then...
"Chaya," the Lantian cut her off. "This project is your chance to show the Council that previous mistakes were accidents!
"But...
"No 'buts'!" the man snapped. "I double-checked all your calculations, ran them through the city computer—everything will work as needed!
"But...
"No 'buts'! I order you to activate the installation! If you don't obey—I won't protect you before the Council anymore! Neither you nor your people! It's already hard enough for me every day to explain why we need to keep a whole warship in orbit over Proculus! They're watching me, Moros has set up surveillance, several of my close ones are already passing him secret data from my research...
"Close ones, or lovers, like I was?" Sar asked quietly. "Do they even know they're not the only ones for you?
"That's none of your concern," the man snapped. "Clear?
A shadow crossed holographic Chaya's face.
"Yes," she replied. "I understand you, Janus. The weapon will be activated in one minute...
There the holograms stopped playback, dissolving in the center of the horseshoe-shaped table where the Atlantis Council had gathered ten thousand years ago.
But today, sentients were present here who shared only their relation to the human race with the rulers of the Lantian Confederacy.
Me, Chaya, Trebal, Ihaar, Alvar, Kirik, and Teyla.
Humans representing authority and significance among those populating Atlantis at the moment.
And their expressions now were quite... interesting.
Chaya stared straight ahead at one invisible point on the glowing tabletop. Teyla, embarrassed, pretended to be interested in something on her fingers. Kirik didn't know where to look, Alvar thoughtfully scratched his nape, Ihaar just sat, resting...
Only Trebal looked at me with irritation and malice.
"You think this show changes anything?" she asked after a couple seconds of general silence.
"Doesn't it?" I inquired. "You thought Chaya doomed your world. Now there's proof she didn't do it. At least she didn't turn on the installation of her own free will.
"But she turned it on! And she could have understood the consequences, since she was familiar with the technology!
"Would you have refused in her place?" Alvar asked, pointing to where the holograms had just been. "I don't know who that guy is, but on Ermen they'd break his jaw for that several times an hour.
"Janus is one of the foremost, if not the smartest, Lantian scientists," Trebal hissed through her teeth. "And it's not for you to judge him...!
Janus, a Lantian.
"But I can," Trebal turned her head toward me.
"Because she's your...?" the "Aurora" commander's senior assistant snorted, glancing at Chaya. But she said nothing aloud. Though the hint was enough here.
"Ally, like you, Ihaar, and anyone in Atlantis who doesn't suck life from people," I said. "And, by the way, thanks to Chaya the "Hippaphoralkus" flew after you. Thanks to her the pods could be hooked to the power system. Thanks to her Atlantis is protected from invasion. Thanks to her we have portable reactors and the defensive satellite restored. Not to mention she reworked the jumper cloaking shield system into an energy...
"The last was practiced during the war," Ihaar said barely audibly, but his remark went unnoticed.
"And also, thanks to her, your people nearly died when the dreadnought's power shut down," Trebal reminded. "And because of her the Wraiths came! If not for the security protocol she rewrote, we wouldn't have had to sacrifice twenty fine people! Moreover, if the Wraiths hadn't come, we could have repaired the ship and gotten it to Taranis, fixed it up, and had a second combat-ready starship!
"In about ten years at that rate," Ihaar muttered.
"I'll repeat," I raised my voice slightly. "Chaya did no less, if not more, for your rescue than the others involved.
"And how does that justify the murder of millions?" Trebal asked.
"It doesn't," I admitted. "But I'd call it causing death by negligence. Plus, ten thousand years have passed...
"And I remember it like it was yesterday!" the Dorandan snapped. Dorandian? Dorandanka?
"In any case," raising my voice, I made Trebal shut up. "It's not for you to decide, Trebal. The leader of everyone living on Atlantis is me. And I've decided—Chaya won't answer for what happened in the past.
"Why not?" Trebal glared at me maliciously.
"Because in that case, all surviving Ancients must answer for the Wraiths appearing at all," I said.
"What are you talking about?" Kirik perked up.
"With all the veils torn lately, I'm starting to think running from Wraiths our whole lives wasn't such a big problem," Alvar said.
"You really want to discuss this now?" Trebal asked.
"Well, you want to blame her for executing Janus's order," I shrugged. "Why not start the trial from the beginning, since we're all here? Chaya wouldn't even have had to think about something like nanites, the "Aterro" device, or the "Arcturus" project if not for the Ancients' efforts creating the Wraiths? Logical, right.
"Can someone explain what this is about?" Teyla demanded.
"About the Ancients creating at least human life in this galaxy," I said. "In Atlantis's holographic room there's a recording of Melia, one of the Council members, about how at the start of colonization they encountered a species that beat them.
"They found the Wraiths while they were in hibernation, that's logical..." Kirik frowned.
Trebal and I stared each other down. Ihaar carefully hid from the glances thrown at him by the others... Chaya just hid her face in her hands. And for some reason it seemed to me that only the last two felt shame.
"Can someone explain?" Teyla asked.
"Easy," I agreed, activating the holographic console built into the tabletop. "The thing is, the Wraiths appeared in the galaxy because of the Ancients.
"What?!" the Athosian and both former fugitives said in unison.
Finding the needed file in Atlantis's database, I activated holographic playback. A moment later, a small, arm-sized creature hung in the air before us.
Covered in blue chitinous armor, with a long tail splitting at the end, several sturdy claws and powerful mandibles, a pair of fleshy wings covered in hardened material, and an orange-red belly, it inspired nothing but disgust.
"Meet," I offered. "Irus bug. Genetic ancestor of the Wraiths.
Irus bug feeding on the series hero. Why? Because it's a bug, it doesn't care, eats whoever it wants.
"You saying the Wraiths come from some bug?" Alvar wondered.
"Not quite," I clarified. "The thing is, as far as I know, when settling the galaxy, the Ancients scattered humans across habitable planets. Or they ended up there themselves, doesn't matter. However, on one world there were these lovely creatures living," I pointed to the bug. "They ate the humans, mutated, and the Wraiths appeared.
"That's just horrible!" Teyla said.
"Hold on," I smiled, looking at Trebal's face flushed with blood. "There's something even more interesting. From my knowledge, it's not reliably known if the Ancients seeded the entire galaxy—from plants to animals—or just introduced ancestors of modern humans into existing biomes.
"What's the difference?" Kirik didn't get it.
"That either the Ancients were a bit shortsighted, not checking the planet for dangerous beasts, or the Ancients caused those beasts to appear," I explained. "Either way—directly or indirectly, the Ancients created the Wraiths. I think not on purpose, of course. Just, like all their protégés, they have one curious trait—they're bad at predicting consequences. Right, Trebal? Changing the control chair settings on the "Hippaphoralkus," you didn't know the whole ship would turn into one unprotected brain trap for me? Or did you know and want to finish me off?
The Dorandan flinched, embarrassed as everyone but Chaya looked at her. Licking her lips, Trebal suddenly lost her belligerence.
"I... I didn't know that would happen," she admitted.
"But I think you did," Alvar drawled lazily. "And it was part of her plan to kill you.
"Idiot," Trebal hissed, glaring at the Ermen. "If I wanted to kill him that way, I wouldn't have climbed into the command chair myself!
"So maybe you knew nothing threatened you," Kirik picked up. "Or are you not smart enough for someone who blames others for not preventing catastrophes when they knew how to handle the tech?
"And that's all you can say?" Trebal flared up. "She actually initiated your ward. Stole her childhood and all that!
Familiar words.
"You weren't against it before," I reminded. Everyone should see Trebal is just seeking support from those present with dirty tricks.
But seems no need to explain the obvious.
"Seliza is happy she can be useful to us all," Kirik said after thinking. "It's not quite what I had in mind, but... Turning a girl from a race just starting to think about stone houses into a medic who can save even Ancients' lives... If she's happy, I have no complaints.
Too bad Seliza can't even partially reach "lesser races" level. Because she wasn't developed enough pre-initiation, her new limit is lower than the Dorandans'. She couldn't get the full medical database, brain not developed enough. Just basics and access to Ancient tech control.
But in our case that's plenty. Ancient basic medical knowledge is way more than even Earth's top geniuses combined. Not to mention the girl can look up what she doesn't know in the database.
"A therapist who Googles symptoms," but Pegasus galaxy edition. But we have no other doctors.
"Double standards, they're like that," I agreed. "So, Trebal? Shall we judge everyone in turn?
"And who are the judges?" she asked.
"Right here, us all," I pointed to myself, Alvar, Kirik, and Teyla. "Consider, we've all suffered from what the Ancients did—to some degree. So two options: we stop messing around, or we start judging each other on collective responsibility? Though I'd least want to deal with idiocy.
Trebal, throwing an irritated glance at Chaya, said:
"Consider you saved your little friend," she said with a shade of disgust. "But I must warn you—you'll lose quite a few allies over this. It was better when she was thought dead or Ascended.
"In that case, those who disagree with party policy can take what personally belongs to them and get lost in all four directions," I replied dryly. "Uniforms, gear, and whatever they got on Atlantis, turn in to stores and go wherever. I'll say it once—for the nanites, the "Aterro" device, Chaya was already punished by the Atlantis Council. Dorandan wasn't her evil intent—so no punishments.
"That's unwise," Alvar interjected. "Those who leave know too much about our defenses and capabilities!
"If they fall into Wraith hands..." Teyla supported.
"They won't," Ihaar spoke up, looking at Trebal. "Because there won't be any wanting to go without support and protection in worlds where Wraiths can feed on them. At least among most of the crew.
"You forget security," Trebal said.
"They're all in stasis," Ihaar reminded. "And they'll stay there for quite a while… I think…" He looked at me. "Mikhail, I've got an idea. So we don't waste time in the future bringing the Resurrected up to speed, we could recreate a virtual environment and hook them up to it. We'd drop in from time to time, give them the news…"
"Ah, and at the same time, check the frozen ones' reactions to events," I thought. "And weed out the undesirables in advance. Whether to resurrect them or leave them in eternal sleep—that's a secondary matter."
This approach would help us avoid wasting resources on those who might sabotage us from the inside for their own motives. For example, disagreement with the fact that Chaya is alive and unpunished for the Dorandan Catastrophe.
I need to firmly cement my leadership and earn authority among my own people. I've got a few ideas for that.
And thoughts on how to deal with my powerful Ancient enemies.
"Suppose so," I agreed. "Right now, they're just lying in stasis without dreams?"
"Yes," Ihaar confirmed. "We're moving people from the ship to Atlantis: we've set up storage areas in a few warehouse spaces. As soon as the Wraith can resurrect people further, we'll keep restoring them."
"Good," I approved. "Now we finally need to settle the question of sole command and subordination."
"Feeling the pull of army life," Alvar smirked.
"In a way," I agreed. "But as Lady Trebal has vividly demonstrated, we can't just go with the flow anymore. So, we need to set the accents. Alright, does anyone object to me becoming your permanent leader?"
Silence was my answer.
"Good," I concluded. "We'll proceed based on each person's abilities. Chaya has greater knowledge of Ancient technology and science than anyone else here. So she's appointed my right hand and something like governor of Atlantis. Everything happening in the city must be cleared with her…"
"To the Ori," Trebal swore, rising from the table. "I'm not participating in this farce. You can hand out positions to your mistresses and friends as much as you want, but it won't change the essence…"
Without saying goodbye, the girl left the Council Chamber.
"She has a hot temper," Ihaar tried to soften the situation. "She doesn't always accept what's out of her control. But she'll get used to it… Don't take her words to heart."
"Or we'll have to wring her neck," Kirik suggested. "Her antics are starting to get annoying."
"She takes hits to her authority painfully," Chaya explained. "I'll talk to her and…"
"No need," I objected. "I'll do it myself. So, let's continue. Ihaar, you're on assisting Chaya and technical work outside Atlantis and its home planet. Teila—your position doesn't change. You represent the Athosians, handle food supplies from New Athos, and help us on missions."
"Of course, Mikhail."
"Alvar, take over continuing the Athosians' training in military science for now. For the moment, the only thing I can offer you is ground work as infantry… We're short on fighters, but hopefully we'll solve that over time."
"No problem," the Ermen said indifferently.
"Kirik, for now you're responsible for Atlantis's security when travelers come through the gates. Our security system is decent, but no one's canceled sentries… You understand, we don't have that many people, so most assignments are nominal. We'll work where we're needed most—including me. To start, we need a reconnaissance team to scout planets that might still have Ancient technology. Ignoring something that could make us stronger would be unwise…"
* * *
A chime from the door panel interrupted her right in the midst of packing her things. Trebal had no intention of opening the door—she didn't want to see anyone in her quarters.
But she wasn't too surprised when the door slid open without her consent. Or by who was standing on the threshold of her room.
"Mind if I come in?" Mikhail asked.
"Do I have a choice?" Trebal asked, closing the first bag. "Your little friend taught you how to bypass security protocols, so do whatever… I intend to leave Atlantis and return to my homeworld. If it survived, if the gates are intact…"
"Eh, women," Mikhail walked inside and sat in the armchair. "Life on Dorandan isn't a picnic, you know. Radiation's still acting up in spots, food's scarce practically everywhere. Plus, I think you'll die going straight through the gate into space."
"So you're not giving me a jumper?" Trebal shot a glance.
"We don't have that many to hand out to every pretty deserter who comes along," Mikhail explained.
"Pretty?" Trebal grimaced. "Save those bland, crude compliments for your little friend. They have no effect on me except irritation."
"Chaya's a comrade, not a little friend," Mikhail objected.
"And you give her protection just because she's good at blushing?" Trebal asked acidly. "Or are you saying Teila lied to me when she said she saw you leaving her cabin early in the morning shortly before the liner departed for the Aurora?"
"Strange that you're even interested in my personal life," Mikhail scratched above his eyebrow. "Or that Teila even noticed…"
"Switching the topic," Trebal stated. "Shifting accents. Steering the conversation elsewhere. So I got it right—you've got a fling, and you're using your authority to protect your mistress. It's disgusting, you know. She's guilty of the deaths of millions…"
"Like Janus," Mikhail said coldly. "But you don't accuse him, despite the objective evidence. Funny how that works… Even if we imagine for a moment that something really happened between me and Chaya, and it wasn't just me drunk stumbling into her room mistaking it for mine, what business is it of yours? In my view, doing everything to protect a loved one from certain death or danger is very manly."
"From your point of view," Trebal snorted.
"Yeah, mine," Mikhail agreed. "But I think you're pissed right now not for that reason. But because Janus didn't do it for you."
Trebal felt an invisible hand squeeze her throat, her heart pounding faster.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Of course not," Mikhail said wearily. "Or at least pretending. But want me to tell you a story?"
"No. I want to leave."
"Then here's the deal—I'll tell you a story, and in exchange you get a jumper, weapons stock, food, and meds," Mikhail proposed. "You can go to Dorandan, but on condition you don't approach the Arcturus project installation."
"You think I want to activate the device that killed my people?"
"I think it's burning you up inside after our talk in the Council Chamber. But not even because Chaya and her actions piss you off. But because you feel used. So, deal?"
"Deal," Trebal gritted out, sitting on the bed. "Ten minutes. Then I leave."
"Five's enough," Mikhail assured.
"And you've said that to many women?" Trebal asked, hoping to rattle him quickly.
"You're the first," the man assured her. "So, the story. Remember on the Aurora you demanded the self-destruct abort code from me?"
"Suppose."
"I also told you I got the code from Tribune Titus," Trebal looked at Mikhail intently. "Yes, I found out the Aurora's commander's name. And wondered why you never mentioned it during our talk. I had a hypothesis, so I asked Ihaar. He explained that in Lantian military hierarchy, only the first officer could address the commander by name, and even then only informally. It was forbidden for others, so after decades of side-by-side service, it stuck in their subconscious. And I wondered why you never said his name…"
Trebal felt dryness in her mouth.
"Then Chaya told me he was a member of the Atlantis Council. I remembered the code he gave me. And thought: 'Why would an Atlantis councilor sacrificing himself for others give me that info? If the code's useless…' Then it hit me—the code's useless on the Aurora. But maybe it wasn't for the liner's computer? We know how the commander loved to prod people's heads. So I went to the Atlantis control chair…"
"Not enough trouble on the Hippaphoralkus, so you risked it again?" Trebal grumbled.
"Oh, Chaya was with me. You call her a villain, but she really doesn't want me dying early. She checked the chair and confirmed it safe. Guess what I did connecting through the chair to Atlantis's central computer?"
"Entered the code," the girl gritted.
"Exactly," Mikhail confirmed. "And… it worked. Moreover, parts of Atlantis's encrypted databases became accessible to me. Including those on the Sar inquiry. Imagine my surprise learning not only she among Janus's mistresses faced punishment for her actions? Some weren't as stupid as her and reported to the Council that Janus was involved in their experiments? Especially caught my eye the 'Ascension Machine' Melia created under Janus's orders. Oh, you paled. Tell me, what interested you? That Melia, a Lantian specialist in human physiology, built a machine to stimulate human evolution but turned them into biomass instead? Or that Melia slept with Janus? Or that Janus, Atlantis Council member, vetoed Tribune Titus's initiative to remove you from the ship before the Aurora's final mission?"
Trebal listened silently, glaring at Mikhail.
"You were picked as prosecutor against Janus's mistresses for a reason," the man continued. "Titus proposed it as your evaluation for ship commander, and thanks to Janus, it passed. You became their accuser and surprised the Council by grasping dangerous tech subtleties without broad knowledge, forming charges against those women. Though there were only five mistresses, you sent over a dozen of Janus's students to trial. All thanks to your genius… How about you? Conscience clear? Or should I say it out loud?"
"Yes, Janus helped me with their dangerous tech, provided scientific consultation," Trebal admitted. "But if you're hinting I was his mistress covering tracks, you're wrong."
"But he was covering tracks," Mikhail said. "And you were biased. Titus and Janus were on good terms. Until Janus opposed Titus for Aurora commander on the Council for the final mission. Fact is, he was the only one you could call your commander's friend. Janus used you like his students and mistresses—got what he wanted, then discarded you with others' hands."
"And why did he need that?" Trebal asked. "As chief scientist, he could do almost anything…"
"Exactly, not everything," Mikhail added. "Before his students and mistresses got caught on dangerous experiments, he faced the Council a couple times himself. Moros took a strong dislike and watched him. So the sly scientist figured he could test ideas and dodge consequences. Just find a fool to believe him and run the experiment. And a fool to let the organizer consult on the investigation. Didn't it bother you that despite your trial wins, Moros, Atlantis Council head, rejected Titus's request to make you commander of a ship? You tried so hard…"
"Moros had his reasons," Trebal gritted. "Maybe I wasn't good enough for command."
"Or Moros wasn't fool enough to believe coincidences," Mikhail objected. "On one hand, Janus figures in cases, previously noted for similar experiments. By the way, most are encrypted so even Titus's code won't open them."
"Because they're under Moros's personal code, not a junior councilor or tribune," Trebal explained. "The worse the war, the harsher he got. Under him, the Council became a dictatorship. Instead of using brains and resources for victory paths, he dug ancient archives, banned histories endlessly, purged Atlantis's database, and other idiocies."
"Or he knew something he didn't want others knowing," Mikhail shrugged. "Either way, in known events, Moros, as an Ascended, regained human form to create the Weapon Against Ori, whose threat he saw as inevitable. And it happened. Though due to Earthlings, but that's secondary…"
"That all you wanted to say?" Trebal interrupted.
"I've got more," Mikhail assured. "Don't want to tell why two top Lantians in Atlantis pushed so hard for you?"
"No."
"Strange. And five minutes ago you were ranting how disgusting and immoral it is for a man to protect his woman…"
"I said I wasn't Janus's mistress!" Trebal said harshly. "Otherwise I'd be his wife, not Melia after everything."
"Didn't know that…"
"You didn't read the files carefully," Trebal said irritably. "Due to her 'Ascension Machine' experiments killing technicians, Melia lost senior councilor status. Only Moros remained—that was her punishment. But after trial, Melia and Janus declared as a couple and rarely disagreed after. And I…"
"And you wanted her place," Mikhail concluded. "Prominent man, long work side by side…"
"I wanted more than permanent senior officer on an old ship," Trebal grimaced. "But on my own. Even through alliance, they'd stop seeing me as nothing…"
"And Titus?" Mikhail asked.
"What about him?" Trebal raised an eyebrow puzzled.
"Just… You were so close… You mind-fucked him so intimately in virtual, like only a very close woman can. Wife, say, or battle friend…"
"Or daughter," Trebal added coldly.
Mikhail swore.
"Seriously?! You're Titus's daughter?"
"His illegitimate child, from a fling half a lifetime before our last mission," Trebal forced out. "But I didn't know until we were stuck in virtual. About two thousand years in, he told me everything. How he helped me advance, but Moros was dead against. See, I wasn't genetically good enough…"
"Santa Barbara with Nazi elements," Mikhail shook his head. "I spun that casino's mouth…"
"That supposed to mean something?" Trebal clarified. "If not, I'd like to pick my jumper."
"Or," Mikhail sighed, "you stop hysterics and hear my offer."
"Thanks, no need," Trebal said. "You've shown what I did for you isn't worth making you right hand."
"Trebal," Mikhail addressed quietly. "You drink brave water somewhere?"
"No, why?" the girl glanced quickly.
"Why think a mutiny attempt, work with tech that nearly killed me, intent to kill the woman you owe your life, regular promise-breaking and insubordination would make you my right hand?" Mikhail asked softly.
Trebal sighed and shook her head.
"Because life's more interesting with bitches," she explained. "Every day like on a volcano. Mobilizes male psyche and body resources, unconsciously overcoming genetic laziness and settling instinct in most of you."
Mikhail was silent seconds, then clarified:
"Just made that up?"
"A minute ago," Trebal admitted. "Hurts the ego—seeing someone like Sar leap ahead. When I've got more Lantian blood than her. Yes, too little from father, but she has none!"
"Not a rap battle for hemoglobin fans here," Mikhail objected. "Chaya fits better—she knows Ancient tech in principle. Where you'd need helpers for shields, hyperdrive etc., she'd do it solo. So I had another offer for you…"
"I won't sleep with you," Trebal cut.
"Your mother," Mikhail grabbed his head. "What's wrong with you, woman? How many head blows since birth to spout that? One minute stripping, next against… How live with that logic?"
"Lie in a cell ten thousand years," Trebal suggested. "Listen how childhood idols caused all problems."
"Yeah, but nearly every talk veers to bed! No hints from me!"
"Just a joke," Trebal licked her lips. "Successful, since you're leaving my room now. Sure Sar's nearby plotting…"
"Get your head fixed," Mikhail stood. "Seriously, woman. Either bullet in brain from birth or freeze damaged a brain bit. But these swings—from flirt to nasty bitch—irritate me plenty. I tolerated only needing a Hippaphoralkus commander, but…"
"You offering me liner command?" Trebal perked.
"Yes. Until you started raving about closeness and…"
"Why raving?" Trebal blinked. "Maybe brain signals your subconscious to my desires…"
"Trebal, act adequately, liner's yours," Mikhail said. "But one more hysteria, freakout etc.—I'll replace you. Clear?"
"Yes."
Mikhail squinted:
"That all? I fulfilled your ten-thousand-year dream. Now you're warship captain."
"I appreciate it," Trebal said with stone face. Then faked flirty, hand over chest. Hints promising more than eyes see. Reaction louder than words. "And grateful for the gesture, considering our ties. I'd thank differently, but you said nothing can be between us…"
She fell silent, watching his reaction. If just showboating Janus-style—work relations first, then bed—her provocation works. He's not sharp enough for female tricks.
Seems he told truth—else why eye twitch?
"Thanks for honesty," Trebal rose, approached, leaned, kissed cheek. "You don't know what it's like illegitimate daughter of tribune Council dislikes anyway. Grateful despite my awful character, you act pragmatic, not sex prefs or future favors. Nice you value me as pro."
"No problem," Mikhail said. "Ship's yours. Just… Don't wreck it first outing, okay? Hate when girls park by ear…"