And yet, Atlantis has its drawbacks.
For example, the lack of bathrobes in my size. Apparently, there were no broad-shouldered humanoids among the Lantians, so their standard bath accessories fit me "tightly." I don't like that.
But the towels are great – enough to cover my shame, wrapping myself properly. A small breath of air from the past, a feeling of at least some normalcy and familiar understanding of cause-and-effect relationships.
Because a real madhouse is happening around.
The shower door slid to the side. Another couple of minutes to freshen up and I can...
I stopped in front of a chair, on which my things were neatly folded. You could even say "perfectly" folded. Even the pulse unit – it seemed polished. And, judging by the indicator, it was fully charged. Although I was just about to change the power cell.
"Don't thank me," a voice came from behind. Judging by the sounds, it came from the entrance door.
Turning around, I saw the one I least expected to find in my apartment.
"I see you've changed," I commented on her new clothes.
"I'm more used to the Lantian uniform," Trebal admitted. "But it needs washing. And, as it happened, while helping in the engine room of the 'Hippaphoralkus,' I miscalculated the pressure of the lubricating materials, which tend to..."
"That's called 'got dirty'," I corrected.
Dressed in a short dark jacket made of a leather-like material, fitted trousers that hugged her hips, and a sleeveless turquoise tank top, judging by the style, the commander of the battlecruiser looked more like an ordinary girl you might meet on Earth.
Only the hip holster with a pulse blaster on one side and another with an electroshock weapon on the other somewhat spoiled the image of a girl from the next apartment.
A simple decoration of a couple of chains, and a turquoise stone in a golden setting drew attention to her décolletage.
Pink lipstick on her lips and the usual large curls of loose hair.
"I have no problems with vocabulary," Trebal said. "I just decided to explain the reason for changing my outfit. After all, an officer must adhere to the established uniform when on duty. And, even if my ship isn't flying yet, commander's duties must be performed."
"Or you decided that I would find it interesting," I chuckled, sitting on the edge of the desk. "Girls covered head to toe in engine oil is clearly some kind of mechanic's fetish."
[Image: Officer Trebal.]
"Probably," the girl shrugged. "I'm not interested in various deviations."
"I can bet," I said, crossing my arms. "So, what brought you to my apartment. But, it's better to start from the moment you got in here."
"You gave me the code yourself," she reminded me, hiding her hands behind her back and not taking a single step from the doorframe. "Or have you forgotten already?"
"I thought you said it didn't work."
"Yes, and then I remembered the trick for unlocking blocked doors," the owner of light emerald eyes raised an eyebrow. "Pull out the crystal, rearrange it, short it..."
"So, you're inside. What's next?" I asked.
"I wanted to see how our highly respected leader lives," a crooked smile appeared on her face as she glanced at the straightened and rumpled bed. White sheets, a white airy blanket, thin, but not hot underneath. And a ball of gray coverlet lying on the floor nearby. "You know, I'm even somewhat disappointed."
"It's a man's order," I explained, pointing to the folded clothes. "Someone who folds clothes seam to seam and feels constrained not in uniform won't understand."
"Well, at least I didn't see long hair on the bedding," Trebal smirked.
"And should there be?" I asked.
"It was assumed so," Trebal raised an eyebrow. "Black-brown or rich brown."
If you think about it, it's about Chaya and Tayla respectively.
"On Earth, they say 'chestnut'," I explained.
"And among younger races, it's not customary to invent names and use generally accepted colors," Trebal said. "Are you going to get dressed or not go to the meeting?"
Ah, so that's it... Well, this game can be played by two.
"Since when do you care?" I asked, looking her in the eyes and removing the towel. Reaching out, I took the t-shirt, put my arms through it, pulled it over my head...
By the time my hair emerged from the neckline, I noticed how my slightly bitten lower lip returned to its normal state, and the light emerald rose a couple of degrees higher.
"I have nothing to do," she said quickly. "The ship is still under repair, they can handle system debugging without me. And you go to other planets, and, as I understand it, you didn't just drop by the planet of children for no reason."
"Planet of children?" I repeated, finishing with my underwear. "Who gave it that name?"
"Children live there," Trebal made a face as if I had asked something obvious. "What else would you call it?"
"Epheon," I reminded her. "I don't think our new allies will be happy if we call their planet's inhabitants children."
"And this is what I don't understand," Trebal watched me get dressed. "You knew that the MNT was on that planet, didn't you?"
"Let's say so."
"You knew that it doesn't play a big role for us because of its deep discharge."
"Correct."
"You knew that they kill each other there."
"Exactly."
"And you know that these kids haven't even learned to process metal properly yet."
"Not a single mistake so far," I confirmed, putting my feet in my boots. "So what's the question?"
"Why did you go there?" she asked. "Clearly not to help these little ones. And certainly not for the MNT. The device is also useless to us – it jams our own systems. So... Why?"
"Are you sure you're not from a primitive race?" I clarified.
"Should I provide you with a medical form of genetic development for review?" Trebal narrowed her eyes.
"No, thank you," I winced. "I'm already shuddering at the thought that such a thing even exists."
"And how else can intergender alliances be formed?" Trebal asked in surprise.
"The certificate allows us to predict possible genetic hereditary problems and the level of genetic perfection of offspring in advance..."
"There was once an artist on Earth who would have liked such an idea very much."
"He was clearly a progressive person."
"Some think so. But in reality, he unleashed a world war in which tens of millions of innocent people died. Men, women, old people, children... And that's not to mention the inhumane experiments in concentration camps, the killing of people accused of being 'inferior,' the mass deaths caused by combat poisons..."
With every word I spoke, Trebal's face contorted more and more.
"Are you sure you are our descendants?" she asked.
"You behave like beasts. Maybe even worse. What about science, space exploration, other planets?"
"Do you want me to tell you about social networks? Or about flushable toilet paper rolls?"
"I don't know what that is, but it sounds disgusting," Trebal admitted.
"I mean social networks."
"Any invention, even one created with the best intentions, can be turned into something useless if human vices and stupidity are allowed to take center stage," I shared my wisdom.
"That's basically how 'Vstogram' came about."
"Let's get back to the conversation about the planet of children?" Trebal suggested, her voice losing its playful tone.
"The more you talk about your world, the more I hear biting satire in your words."
"You're right, I needed the blueprints for the electromagnetic generator," I switched topics with ease.
"And precisely because it can jam even our systems. Of course, I was pleased that it can only do so with Wraith technology, and therefore, it can be programmed for specific technology, but, as it turned out, not everything is always very tasty."
"It's better to be able to jam any technology than to not be able to turn off any," Trebal understood.
"Smart. Very smart."
"We are such primitive peoples. We have no knowledge, we rely on trickery and cunning."
The girl rolled her eyes.
"Can you please stop reminding me of that? I stopped using that combination of words when I realized it sounded offensive to races at your level of development..."
"There you go again," I smiled.
I wonder if she'll have a heart attack or a stroke if I tell her about the Nazi-eugenic direction of the 'Lesser Races' project? However, I suspect that Trebal is quite intelligent and emotionally stable.
It's impossible that having such a father, she wouldn't have guessed something was happening in Ancient society.
"You know," her emerald eyes flashed malevolently.
"I'm really trying to adapt to this new reality."
"How I understand you."
"No, you don't!" Trebal squinted.
"I understand perfectly," I said, barely holding myself back.
"And what's so funny about that?"
"When we get to Earth, I'll definitely tell you."
"Oh, so we're going to Earth?" Trebal was surprised.
"Someday," I promised.
"But first, we need to properly work out the technology for suppressing alien technologies."
"That's why I'm here," Trebal admitted.
"Remember you said we could feed the Wraith not with people, even enemies, but with Wraiths?"
"I remember saying it. I don't remember telling you."
"What do you think my day is like?" the girl folded her arms across her chest.
"Well..." I pretended to think.
"You wake up, get dressed, curl your signature locks, drink a liter of 'Ostervina-extra,' and go to spoil the blood of people who have done you no harm. Did I guess right?"
"That's before lunch," Trebal nodded.
"And after it, I spend time studying various data, checking work on the 'Hippaphoralkus,' reviewing data on the modernization program, figuring out what we can implement manually. And I also talk to your beloved. It so happened that we have to communicate for duty and... And what is the meaning of this gesture?"
I looked at my outstretched hand.
"Wait," I had to explain.
"Let's clarify something. Because, I see, you're bursting with jealousy."
"You're mistaken," she declared.
"Let's assume so," I replied condescendingly.
"But it's better this way than to leave unspoken things. I don't know the reason why you throw such scenes at me and try to record someone as my love interest, but you're mistaken. Nothing connects me to anyone, including you, except for friendly and working relationships."
"Are you done?" Trebal asked in a deliberately indifferent tone.
"Well, great, then let's get back to work. I'd like to participate in ground operations. I have good infantry training, I'm trained in shooting and hand-to-hand combat..."
I look at her, listen to what she's saying, and I can't understand: is she really just putting on these showy moments of jealousy to bare her nerves? It seems so.
Or maybe she's a bit of a psychopath.
"And why did you decide that we have such an operation planned in the near future?" I inquired.
"If not, then it's a shame," she blurted out.
"We have very suitable conditions. Wraith trackers – for finding fugitives and tracking Ancients. There's technology that will block energy technologies. This means that weapons, devices, and even the self-destruct system that enemy soldiers have will stop working. Not to mention that their 'arrows' won't be able to provide air support. But at the same time, we have firearms, which should work in the suppression zone. What's the conclusion? Correct, we can set a trap, luring the Wraiths into one or two places, and when they arrive there, we activate the EMP generator, which will deprive them of the ability to harm us. But not deprive us of combat capability."
The girl raised her eyebrows.
"Not bad for a fleet officer, is it?"
"Not bad," I agreed, approaching the exit.
"And what about using this suppressor on the Wraith cruiser that's sunk on Lantea? We'll find the queen, won't let her blow up the ship, kill the queen. By the way, her name is Death. And she is the one behind the attack of all Wraiths on Atlantis ten thousand years ago. And if the Wraiths come, she won't be able to contact them and return to her people. Which will give us an advantage if the Wraiths, while we're languishing at the bottom of the sea, decide to get rid of us. At least they won't have a common and authoritative leader."
Trebal looked at me for a couple of seconds.
"Okay," she said.
"Your option sounds much more pragmatic. First, we get rid of the queen, then we deal with the Wraiths according to my plan. Agreed?"
"Are you that bored?"
"A little more, and I'll figure out how to make your life even more unbearable. Because, apparently, you've given me the position of ship commander of a ship that won't launch anytime soon. I think you planned this in advance, as a way to show me not only that I'm a valuable asset, but also your headache."
Not exactly in advance, but in the process – yes. But she doesn't need to know that.
"And that really pisses me off."
"How much?"
"So much that I decided to break into your room, swallow my pride, and offer to accompany you in a shootout," Trebal smiled tensely.
"In any."
"You're really desperate," I assessed, running my hand over the control panel of the door.
"So it wasn't all for nothing."
"You know how to please a girl who's been in stasis for ten thousand years," Trebal chuckled.
"Oh, how awkward..."
"Are you finished?" Chaya asked, standing in front of me.
"The meeting was supposed to start five minutes ago. And neither of you were there..."
"We were busy with something very serious, Sar," Trebal slipped past me sideways. And she even managed to peck me on the cheek.
"Thank you for helping satisfy my insatiable desire for action. We should meet more often."
"Anytime," I promised.
"Can I come by later?" Chaya offered.
"I wouldn't want to interrupt you at the most interesting part."
"Oh, we've already finished our business," Trebal assured, smiling cheekily at Chaya.
"By the way, I recommend admiring him without clothes, if he allows it. A very beautiful and harmoniously developed body. Primal instincts are just howling at the sight of him after a shower."
"Thank you for the advice," the Proculucian forced out.
"I know."
The smile on Trebal's face faded. It seemed she wasn't aware that Chaya had to revive and change me in the medbay when I almost drowned.
Silently turning on her heels, the Dorandian walked away. I, along with Chaya, watched Trebal stride away, swinging her hips.
"You understand that this is just a play on words?" I clarified.
"Do you understand how stupid it sounds to justify yourself to one woman for another woman presenting wishful thinking as reality?" Chaya tilted her head.
"I'm completely indifferent to her games with my nerves. It's even somewhat amusing. And it also motivates her to work better. The result of the opposite."
I closed my eyes and exhaled.
"She thinks she's getting to you with these double entendres, and you're letting her do it because it makes her feel more confident and work productively?"
It's better to clarify than to assume in such a serious mind game.
"I'm a scientist," Chaya reminded me as we walked towards the transport cabin.
"Setting up a self-sufficient dual-circuit energy generation system is no more difficult for me than enriching Naquadria. You just keep going. Your embarrassment gives me the strength to maintain this system further."
"It's scary to think about what you'll do when you get tired of this," I chuckled, putting my arm around Chaya's shoulders and pulling her close.
"I'm a scientist," the girl repeated.
"If I can't handle my emotions, I'll blow up the planet."
"So, can I joke about it now?"
"For me, yes. I'm supposed to be the victim in all this performance. By the way," Chaya looked at me.
"If you don't mind helping me provoke her, we can leave one of my dresses in your room. Next time, her mood will clearly be spoiled by the picture she imagines for herself."
"You scare me. Plans in the style of Dr. Evil are beyond morality," I said.
"So, does that mean... today?"
"We need to figure out where to send her so she can imagine a lot of spicy pictures for herself," the plan continued to gain details.
"Or we can just go to dinner with a view of the city," Chaya innocently suggested.
"The main thing is to turn off the radios... for fifteen to thirty minutes."
"For a couple of hours," I protested.
"Don't underestimate me!"
"I'm a physicist, not a physiologist," Chaya tried to justify herself.
* * *
"So, that's the plan," I summarized.
"We arrived, landed, turned on the EMP generator, de-energized the Wraith cruiser, found the queen, blew her brains out," Alvar said.
"Is this definitely a plan or a brief list of theses?"
"Short and to the point," Kirik objected.
"I like it. I'm in."
"As am I," Trebal said.
"I'll join too," Teila echoed.
"You'll need a scientist to deal with the cruiser's technology," Chaya said.
"Agreed," I nodded.
"Anything can happen, so we'll need a smart specialist."
"That's why..." the Proculucian began.
"With all due respect, Sar," Trebal interrupted her, "you'd better stay on Atlantis. You know Lantian and other technologies better than anyone, so if we need help, you'll manage."
"I appreciate your offer, but I didn't offer my candidacy for this," Chaya replied calmly.
"The strike team should have someone who knows more than a technician. Iha'ar is perfect for this. He knows quite a lot, and he's good at navigating technology."
"Brilliant," the Ancient named grumbled.
"I'm smarter than a technician, but less valuable than a scientist. I always wanted to know how people evaluate me, and here it is, recognition."
"And you're also our secret weapon," Alvar chuckled.
"If anything happens, you'll just talk her to death."
"Very funny," Iha'ar mimicked.
"Now, as a member of the suicide strike team, can I speak?"
"I see no reason to object," I agreed.
"Then let's go straight to the weak points of your plan," the engineer said in a tone that brooked no argument.
"The very first is that I have the device schematics, but that doesn't mean I have even a prototype. It will take time to develop it. That's the first thing. Second, this ship has been at the bottom of the ocean for ten thousand years and hasn't launched. Therefore, it may have serious damage that the ship has only held back thanks to its power systems. If we turn off the generator, we'll turn off those too. The ship might sink while we're running through dark corridors looking for the Wraith queen. Third. Let's say I manage to assemble a device that will jam systems within a radius of an entire Wraith cruiser. Let's say I even find a suitable power source. How do you intend to get away from there? After all, having arrived on a 'jumper' and activated the EMP generator, you won't be able to turn it off to check if she managed to initiate self-destruct. Moreover, the 'jumper' will also fall within the suppression field's range, and we won't be able to get out. As a result, we'll all end up at the bottom of the sea, in an old organic vessel, not knowing if we'll explode if we turn off the device... The plan is lousy."
"Because it's just a general plan," I smiled.
"In reality... Iha'ar, let's say you can assemble a device, an EMP generator to suppress any technology on board the Wraith cruiser. Will the reactor that Chaya built be suitable for powering it?"
"It will work, but it won't provide much energy, which will be needed for a large coverage area."
The Wraith cruiser is about a kilometer long and about five hundred meters wide. To guarantee the device's operation in any part of the ship, I need to create a field with a radius of a kilometer. Then, wherever we enter – at the bow, stern, from the sides – it will be within the suppression zone. I'm afraid a super-reactor like the one we installed on the 'Hippaphoralkus' will be needed here.
"What field can Chaya's reactor provide?" I inquired.
"Half as much, or so," Iha'ar replied after thinking.
"So, if we place it, let's say, in the center of the ship, it will be within the suppression field, more or less?" I asked.
"Yes, but... we'll be detected before we reach the center of the ship," Iha'ar warned.
A good warning, but fundamentally incorrect.
"Will the EMP generator be able to block the queen's mental abilities to detect us?"
"No, not at all."
Wonderful.
"Will a mental ability suppressor cause her problems affecting us?" I asked Chaya.
"Yes, but I can't guarantee that it will be enough to neutralize them completely," she informed me.
"We don't know the capabilities of this particular queen, and the tests were conducted on a Wraith commander."
"That's quite enough," I assured.
"Iha'ar, make a device that runs on Chaya's generator. And also make a timer. So that we can set the time for which the EMP generator will operate, and then it will turn off by itself."
"And then everything will work," Iha'ar warned.
"Including the self-destruct system you warned about."
"Only if we let her activate it," I smiled.
The assembled group exchanged glances.
"It seems that the plan to attack the queen's cruiser is not as simple as it seems," Trebal squinted, looking at me.
"In general terms," I confirmed.
"And in specifics, we'll do this..."