The hologram of the Lantian corridor dissolved just as Koschei managed to make out every detail. Both the energy shield behind which the room flooded with ocean water, and the traces of battle, and the corridor's design, which was more suited to an external object than anything he had seen on Atlantis.
He also saw a wounded human female, an unconscious human male, and the body of a Wraith queen, whom he would recognize from a thousand.
Against his will, despite promising himself to be restrained, Koschei bared his teeth and stepped up to the bars.
"You're lucky, human, that this prison's force field separates us," the Wraith said, his voice ringing with fury. "Otherwise, I would have torn you to shreds."
"You won't believe it," Mikhail's face showed not a single hint of fear or excitement. "She told me the same thing. Well, before her brains splattered all over the floor."
Roaring with rage, Koschei recoiled from the bars and began pacing the cell.
The Wraith understood that he was betraying his impatience and agitation, but he could do nothing about it. His usual composure had vanished, and his rage demanded an outlet. The feeding tube burned, demanding to be sated with someone's life.
And, despite the fact that a human who was guilty of his feelings was within arm's reach, Koschei could not reach him and taste the Lantian life energy.
"What's wrong, Koscheyushka?" Mikhail's voice was poison to him.
"You killed my queen!"
"And she killed sixteen of my people."
"Humans are cattle created for us to feed on!" Koschei roared, not ceasing to pace the cell. "And you know it yourself, because you let me do it."
"Exactly," this voice became mocking. "Only I feed you the bad guys so you can bring my people back to life."
"Bad, good, good, evil," Koschei enumerated. "What's the difference when you're just food for us?"
"I can imagine how you're burning that you're being held captive by food," Mikhail chuckled. "Although no, I won't lie. I can't imagine. I've never been held in a cage by fried chicken."
"Having fun?" the wraith rasped. "And what will happen to your people when I refuse to resurrect them?"
"I'll find another wraith," Mikhail shrugged. "And I'll take you apart for experiments. You know, for our biological weapon experiments, volunteers are vital. You in?"
Finally, he managed to control his anger.
"You have nothing," Koschei stated confidently, approaching the cage bars and looking directly into the man's eyes. "I understand you, human, better than you understand yourself. Bravado, intimidation—all to make me start talking, not just resurrecting the Ancients."
"Thanks for the reminder," Mikhail smiled. "We recently, completely by chance, acquired a wraith cruiser and a couple of 'arrows.' Will you tell me how to reconfigure the collection beam on the latter so it collects not people, but earth. Or even better—the minerals we need from the earth's crust."
"Why do you need that, human?" Koschei wondered.
"There's an answer for that—'because we need to'," the Lantian smiled at him.
Koschei regarded him for a few seconds, then snorted.
"You need resources," he stated. "And you can't extract them the way the Lantians used to."
"Blowing up planets doesn't seem like a good idea to me."
"It's simple and practical," the wraith said in bewilderment. "The core contains many useful elements. And they're so easy to get without digging in the dirt."
"We've strayed from the topic, Koschei. Reconfiguring the collection beam," Mikhail reminded him.
"You want your 'arrow' to pass through the planet's core and collect the necessary metals?" the wraith asked again. "You'll need a lot of energy for something like that. An entire world at once... Ambitious."
This was a provocation that would help him learn the true scale of the humans' intentions. And the resources they had for such an operation. All of this could be useful to him in the future.
"For starters, we should conduct tests," Mikhail smiled. He understood the wraith's intention and deliberately made his answer as general as possible. "Otherwise, who knows, maybe the game isn't worth the candle."
"I don't understand you, Mikhail," the wraith admitted.
In reality, he understood something.
If the humans had ancient technology for mining, they wouldn't be asking for his advice. This applies to both collector ships and huge mining excavators.
But they didn't have it.
Nor did they have people and a large number of ships for open confrontation. However, the Ancients didn't have them either.
But over ten thousand years, the number of wraiths could have significantly decreased.
So far, all he had gathered from his conversations with the Lantian was scraps of truly valuable information. But the key was something else.
If they could so easily kill the Queen of Death, it meant there were no wraith starships in orbit around Lantea. And the wraiths never knew the coordinates of the Lantians' city-ship gates. Otherwise, they wouldn't have stopped trying to get here.
"An explanation will take too long," Koschei said, making his words sound ordinary. "Since you have an 'arrow,' just give me access to it and tell me what metals it should collect—I'll do it all."
Although on hive ships, wraith intellectuals handled such manipulations. That's what they called those who advanced their science and monitored the equipment. He himself was one of the blades—commanders who led ships and armies of drone soldiers into battle. The latter were nothing more than a necessary tool for work. No will, minimal consciousness, only instincts and the ability to fight and feed.
Perhaps something had changed over the millennia, but he didn't believe in such things.
"A good try," Mikhail smirked. "But no. You know, lately, I've stopped trusting you."
"And why?" Koschei asked. "Our cooperation was mutually beneficial. Or are you intending to carry out your threat?"
The latter would be very inconvenient.
"I've started to notice you're getting bolder, my friend," Mikhail said. "You eat like there's no tomorrow. And you resurrect too few people."
"From each feeding, I only keep a minimum of energy for myself," Koschei retorted. "It's not enough to restore your people's youth, Mikhail. But it's enough for me until the next feeding."
"I readily believe you," Mikhail nodded. "Although no, I don't believe you. According to my data, you have enough energy now to bring two or three Ancients back to life."
Koschei bared his teeth.
As he had suspected, Mikhail and his people hadn't stopped scanning him. But he wasn't going to get indignant about their treachery.
Rather, he was no longer amused by being a captive of the Lantians. He was alarmed by how their current tactics drastically differed from everything he knew about the Ancients before.
To kill the Queen, especially Death, with bare hands... It requires a lot of strength and a lot of fury. Even though she was crippled. The bones of wraiths, their muscles, and their bodies as a whole were much stronger than human ones.
The man before him was very dangerous.
Too dangerous for a human. Calculating, cunning, and without remorse, he deviated from previous agreements, promises, and "hooks" he used for cooperation. If it were a young-generation wraith before him now, Koschei would be proud of him.
But a human...
It seemed that before he got out, he should study these Lantians thoroughly. And definitely kill Mikhail in the end.
Such a leader among the Lantians is more dangerous than an entire fleet of ships.
Even if what was happening was just a small piece of the mosaic, Koschei would never have become one of the Queen of Death's blades if he couldn't calculate the situation. Humans aren't smart by choice. If they do something, it's their nature.
Just like wraiths.
Therefore, if Mikhail is ready to fight to the last, out of desperation, by any means—and this is what was captured on the hologram he demonstrated—then his threats were not just words.
Koschei wasn't afraid of making mistakes, because mistakes provide experience, no less, and sometimes more valuable, than victories.
And therefore, talk about biological weapons is not an empty threat at all. If he needs to, Mikhail will do it. But only when it's beneficial to him. Or when there are no other chances for survival.
A very familiar tactic.
And therefore, he needs to study this man better.
"Two," Koschei said. "And I'll have enough energy left to last until the next feeding. If I revive three, I won't be able to live normally. I'll have to go into a kind of hibernation to conserve my strength reserves. And then your people won't be able to get the information they need from me."
And this was no longer a provocation, but a test.
Quite innocent.
But it was much more valuable now to know what was more important to Mikhail—help with wraith technology, or the lives of his people.
"We'll manage," Mikhail smirked. "I already understand that you don't understand anything about your race's science and technology, except for superficial data. So your value has just dropped, Koschei. Sit here for a while and think about what interesting things you can tell me that I don't already know, and I'll go get three frozen Ancients."
"And what should I tell you, human?" the wraith said irritably. "Give me the 'arrow,' and I'll show you the command sequence for reconfiguration. As far as I know it."
"We'll manage ourselves," Mikhail assured him, standing in the doorway. "As for what you can tell me... Start with the cloning laboratories, thanks to which you defeated the Ancients last time. And, perhaps then, I'll let you feast to your heart's content."
When the massive door closed behind the man, Koschei, unable to restrain himself, punched the force field between the bars. The energy burned him with icy flame, lightning coursed through his entire arm, causing unbearable pain.
He knew he was being watched, and this gesture of despair would be recorded. Good, if so.
Let them think he was in despair. Koschei wanted them to think that.
And while their vigilance was lulled, he would devise a way to escape the abyss of true despair.
"This is getting old," Ladon Radim muttered, seeing a new world before his eyes once again.
He felt a blow to his shoulder as one of the Jenai soldiers emerged from the stargate. Realizing that crowding the arrival zone wasn't such a good idea, Ladon moved aside so as not to impede the soldiers passing into this brave new world.
Which one was it, the sixth? Or more?
Radim lost count after the third.
No matter which planet they dialed the address for Atos, they always ended up in a new place. Anywhere but Atos.
Despite never having been to the Lantians' homeworld, from Commander Koli's expression, the scientist understood that each new planet was not the one they needed to reach.
However, judging by the quite charming houses of the small settlement a couple of kilometers from the gate, Ladon himself understood: this was not the place again. According to stories, the Lantians never had smart enough people or resources to build something like this.
And this frankly infuriated both the Jenai soldiers and Commander Koli himself, who, maintaining an expression that Ladon would call "professional politeness," was now conversing with someone like the town governor.
Radim, like the other members of the special battalion, settled down for a rest, awaiting Commander Koli's decision. A dozen sentries, scattered around the area, watched to warn the others of potential trouble.
Ladon took a sip of water from his flask, smoothed his slightly disheveled and long-unwashed hair, and glanced towards the town.
Solid walls of red and, in places, dark gray brick, simple wooden frames with slightly cloudy glass, light paint on doors, benches, window frames. A small fountain in the center of the town, cobblestone paths sprinkled with sand, white-painted fences, and neatly trimmed lawns, living hedges of low trees...
This planet exuded such peace and tranquility that Ladon Radim caught himself thinking he had forgotten to breathe.
He had been to other planets before, but to see a world that had developed so demonstratively, as if it had never seen wraith raids... It sent shivers down his spine.
Previously, they hadn't encountered planets that were so peaceful, clean, and populated. Desert, ice desert, oxygen-poor desert, water-flooded valley, lifeless world, rocky world...
And now—a blooming world, with endless meadows, a lot of forest, a peaceful city... Something new.
He looked at the soldiers, some of whom were also staring in amazement at the surrounding wealth, so similar to the Jenai homeworld that it ached in his heart. Except that all Jenai life is underground, in caves and endless corridors, which in a few decades will begin to crumble from old age.
"These people know nothing about the Lantians," hearing Commander Koli's voice next to him, Radom jumped up, straightening his uniform. Even though he was a scientist, not a soldier, this did not absolve him of the duty to comply with the rules and laws of Jenai society.
Commander Koli, a Jenai.
"That's regrettable," Radim said cautiously. Koli wasn't as eccentric as Cowan, but he was no less dangerous. Spotting an enemy, he could kill him immediately. Or he could, if it served his interests, postpone the killing until a more opportune time. Not to mention that scientists were always below soldiers for him in the invisible hierarchy of the Jenai.
"And they also know nothing about the wraiths," Koli looked towards the stargate, as if noting which of his soldiers was busy admiring the local beauties. His face didn't reveal whether he liked this place.
But if Ladon knew anything about Commander Koli, it was that the interests of the entire Jenai people were always his priority.
"Quite strange, considering they are interested in developed worlds like this," Ladon looked at the two-story building of the local forge. On the first floor, the blacksmith and a couple of his apprentices were fixing a metal wheel for a cart. Which stood right there. Quite a sturdy one, clearly recently built—even the wood hadn't had time to change its color from time and moisture.
"According to the man who called himself their governor, they have lived here for several hundred years," Koli seemed not to hear his words. "And the wraiths have never come to them. And they found the city already abandoned, moved here, and maintain everything in order. They don't use the gates, because they believe that if they do, the wraiths will come here."
"That's possible," Radim said. "If someone learns their address, then through their followers, the wraiths might find out about it. Most likely, during the last collection for this planet, the wraiths took all the people from here, and therefore are no longer interested in the planet."
"But I'm interested in whether you can find out their planet's address," Koli stopped looking into the void and gave Radim an appraising look.
Ladon swallowed noisily, understanding what awaited him.
"I can't," he admitted. "And no one can find out the gate's address from this side, unless it's recorded somewhere. Maybe in their library..."
"They have no books, no libraries, no monuments, nothing where the gate symbols would be," Koli cut him off. "I think that's the real reason they're stuck here."
"You're right," Radim said. "Without knowing their gate's address, they can't return home."
"And we won't be able to come here next time, will we?" Koli asked. His gaze was not threatening or malicious. Calm, reasonable, strict, heavy, and unbearable—yes.
"We can try to get here if we go to another planet and continue dialing the Atos gate address," he said. "I can only speculate about how this defense is built. Whether the addresses where they send instead of Atos repeat, or if they are dialed randomly throughout the galaxy—it's unclear. And I'm not sure if anyone can answer such a question except the Ancients. We still know too little about this technology..."
He spoke the last words into the void—Koli silently walked towards the battalion soldiers' positions.
The latter, seeing the commander approaching, jumped up from their seats, tidying their uniforms and holding their weapons at the ready.
"We're returning to our homeworld," Koli ordered. "Radim! Get to work!"
Ladon looked at the small town they were about to leave.
A great temptation, in fact, to stay here forever. Probably the wraiths would never come here. Probably there would never be the heavy air of the underground Jenai city.
Probably, no one would ever come for him if he decided to desert. Without knowing the Jenai planet's address, they wouldn't come here. And Ladon had a hunch that the gate redirection they encountered when trying to dial Atos would actually not lead them to the same planet twice. Otherwise, what would be the point of having redirection to several gates if they could send to just one planet?
This had happened for the third time, as far as he knew. First Ermen, then Taranis, now Atos. Someone deliberately doesn't want the Jenai to get to where they have an interest.
Too suspicious to be a coincidence or a random glitch.
Ladon dialed his homeworld's address. A vortex of energy erupted from the ancient device, after which the soldiers began to slowly enter the event horizon to return and report again that they had failed to do what they were supposed to for the prosperity of the Jenai people.
Ladon glanced at the peaceful small town they were leaving.
Tempting to stay here...
Except that if he didn't return, Cowan would skin Dahlia alive. Literally. In Jenai society, they didn't stand on ceremony with relatives of traitors.
Especially with women, who, according to the Jenai leadership, had only one role in life: to work in the fields or give birth. His sister was very lucky that she managed to become a scientist, rather than sitting somewhere at home surrounded by three or five children, waiting for her soldier husband to return from another mission.
It was tempting to stay in a world without war, Jenai, and wraiths.
"Decided to stay?" Commander Koli, standing by the working gates, asked him. "Well, then no one is holding you, Radim."
"I was memorizing the surroundings to identify the planet if we end up here again," Ladon said, approaching the gates. "It would be useful if we could return here again somehow."
"Agreed," Koli grunted, nodding towards the gate substance. "Go, Radim. We've already lingered here too long."
Ladon took an obedient step and went into the Jenai homeworld.
Koli knew perfectly well that Ladon Radim wouldn't escape anywhere. Even if he wanted to badly.
Because Commander Koli knew perfectly well what made Ladon Radim return to the Jenai homeworld.
Jenai commanders knew perfectly well how to control their people.
And this cycle of violence, threats of violence, and deaths from an invisible disease cannot be broken under any circumstances.