The Runner looked at me much the same way a seasoned physicist would look at a schoolboy explaining the theory of relativity in his own words. Adjusted for a personal view of the universe cultivated on Japanese cartoons about tentacles.
"Kiryk," he said after a few seconds of silence.
"I'm sorry?"
"My name is Kiryk," the Runner said. Ah... so my memory had failed me slightly on his name. Well, it happens. Considering he was only the hero of a single episode in a five-year series in the events I knew, I suppose a mistake is forgivable. I did get all the letters of his name in the right order. So what if I added a couple... "What do you mean you know me? I have a good memory for faces. We've never met."
The Runner Kiryk.
"In person—never," I admitted. "But I know the Wraith made you a Runner, taking you from your home planet."
"They do that often."
"And also that you visited a world that the Wraith then destroyed."
"That happens all the time," Alvar spoke up. "I think all Runners learn that the hard way."
"Yes, but do all Runners save a miraculously surviving child from such planets?" I asked.
The man standing before me tensed. Visibly so. It was clear he didn't like the fact that some random guy who knew who-the-hell-knew-what knew more about him than he should. In his place, I wouldn't have liked it one bit either.
Kiryk was silent, and I wondered if I'd guessed correctly.
Admittedly, going into this mission, I'd hoped the Runner would turn out to be the future Khal, the Satedan Ronon Dex, in the guise of actor Jason Momoa. But the universe wasn't quite so accommodating to my wishes.
Instead of the Satedan, we met a different Runner. The second and last one shown over five seasons of the series about the adventures of the dim-witted but brave Earthlings in the Pegasus galaxy. And while I knew Dex inside and out, so to speak—since quite a lot of time was dedicated to his character development—this "Runner-father"...
One fact bothered me immensely. At his debut in the series, this Runner had a device from an unknown race that allowed for short-range teleportation. When I realized we hadn't found the "boy" we were looking for, I'd decided that at least a portable teleporter would be handy. Such a "deus ex machina" could have been a real boon...
But nothing of the sort was found on the Runner's person, near him, or with him. Which made me doubt that the events in this reality corresponded to those I knew in every detail. Who knows, maybe because the expedition hadn't arrived, their actions hadn't affected a certain order of things? And the fact that Kiryk hadn't acquired such a device was perhaps not the biggest problem?
This was something that needed looking into. If history was already being rewritten—and it likely was—then we had to hurry and grab at least what was still waiting for its hour: ships, bases, Ancient outposts.
In our absence, Chaya had been working on my tips with the Atlantis databases, but so far there was no progress. We'd found the *Aurora*, and if we had a ship, we'd get to it. But I knew there were at least three other relatively combat-ready battleships of that type in the galaxy. Losing them would be a grave stupidity. Not to mention other objects of the Ancient legacy.
"We have no intention of harming you or your companion," Teyla, the master of negotiations, joined the dialogue. "I am the leader of the Athosian people. Perhaps you have heard of us."
"I have," Kiryk answered. "You are gatherers, hunters, traders of information, and you help others in the fields. You do not have such technology," he pointed at the ship and me. Though I suspected he was more interested in my personal shield.
"Correct, this is technology from other worlds," Alvar said. "The clothes, armor, and weapons—from my world."
"The ship, as well as the protective field that prevented you from breaking my jaw twice and mangling my torso—from the place where I came from," I added my explanation.
"And what place is that?" Kiryk asked. "Where do people live who can easily kill Wraith but don't?"
Here we go again...
"My world was destroyed by the Wraith," Alvar spoke up. "All that is left of my people is me. The Wraith made me a Runner, just like you. And Misha," he nodded toward me, "helped me get rid of that burden."
"So that's why you work for them?" Kiryk asked.
"He doesn't work for me," I corrected. "He, like Teyla, works with me. I hope you will too."
"And why would I do that?" the Runner asked.
"How many places are there in the galaxy where you can hide and not fear that the Wraith will come, find you, capture you, and make you a Runner again?" I asked.
"There are no such places in the entire galaxy."
"You are mistaken," Teyla spoke up. "My people were recently attacked by the Wraith. Many died. But Mikhail and his... friend helped us find a new world that the Wraith do not know about."
"But they didn't help your kin, did they?" Kiryk asked Alvar. The Ermen man nodded in confirmation. "So what's the use? Help in one case out of two?"
"My world and my countrymen were exterminated by the Wraith long before I met Misha," Alvar explained. "Ermen's destruction is not his fault."
"Then whose is it?" Kiryk asked, interested.
"I think the Genii had a hand in it," Jensen suggested.
"If all of this," Kiryk pointed at our clothes, "is from your world, then I doubt a bunch of farmers could have sabotaged you so badly."
"The Genii are not what they appear to be to guests of their world," Teyla explained. "They are much more advanced and..."
"Enough," the Runner interrupted. "I'm not interested in the Genii. I have a responsibility."
"To the girl you saved," I realized.
"Her name is Celise," Kiryk specified, looking at me. "And yes, you're right. I was the cause of the deaths of everyone she knew. I took her with me because at least that way she had a chance of surviving."
"And what chance does a little girl have of surviving in a galaxy full of Wraith when her only friend and protector is a Runner whom the Wraith want to kill?" I asked. "Your transmitter is off. It fused with the spinal cord, partially replaced one of the vertebrae with its tissue. You certainly can't get it out in the field..."
"So you lied to me about getting rid of that thing?" the blade in Kiryk's hand jerked toward my throat.
"The transmitter is a device," I explained. "Just like the Wraith weapons—also biological in nature. But different, differing from their other technology just as you differ from me..."
"Don't talk to me like a child," Kiryk cut me off sharply. "My world was developed enough to understand what you're talking about without redundant explanations."
"In that case, I'll simplify my account to the facts," I exhaled. "Using this device," extracting the Ancient scanner from my hip pocket, I demonstrated it to the former Runner, "I found where your transmitter is located. I dealt with its power source and subspace antenna. Taking that thing out would mean making you a cripple. Но the Wraith can no longer track you."
"What makes you say that?" Kiryk asked.
"Alvar," I turned to my comrade. A second later, he tossed me a portable computer built into a wrist cuff. It looked very much like Lantean technology but had nothing whatsoever to do with it.
I handed the device to our new acquaintance.
"Recognize the device?"
"A Wraith tracking system," Kiryk said. "Every Wraith tracker has one. They use it to track the position of Runners on the planet. Judging by the fact that I'm not on the map, you really did turn off the transmitter."
A Wraith tracking system.
One glance was enough for Kiryk to figure things out. He finally lowered his weapon and placed the "cuff," as we called it, on the nearest seat in the cockpit.
"Now to the main point," he announced. "Judging by the way you're behaving, you're either well hidden or you're not afraid of the Wraith. They're swarming all over the place here."
"On this ship are stocks of weapons, food, and medicine for a small war," I said. "And yes, you're right. The Wraith are gone. An hour ago—immediately after we disabled your beacon, hovering over a cliff above a mountain river."
"Why?" the Runner asked.
"We wanted them to think you were dead," Teyla explained. "Immediately after that, we headed to the mountains where we found you when we first arrived on the planet."
"And you watched the whole time but didn't intervene?" Kiryk grimaced. He walked past me without further talk, delicately went around Teyla, but stopped when Alvar blocked his path.
For a second, the men bored each other with their gazes. Kiryk intended to leave; Jensen wanted him to stay for a while longer.
"We're not finished talking, Runner," the Ermen man explained.
"It's easy to talk about things when a scared little girl hasn't been waiting for you for hours in a cave," our new acquaintance ground out. "Step aside, big man."
"Or what?" Jensen looked him over. For the record, he was half a head taller than Kiryk. And probably five or ten kilograms heavier. As for combat training, specifically hand-to-hand combat in a confined space, I think we'll soon find out who is worth what.
Teyla threw me a warning look.
Well, or maybe not soon.
"Alvar, let him pass," I ordered. "Kiryk—large white button to the right of the rear bulkhead."
The Runners appraised each other with their gazes once more, after which the new acquaintance unceremoniously headed to the Jumper's ramp. Grabbing what he called his outerwear and a Wraith pistol along the way, he hit the ramp release key.
With the sound of actuators we were used to, the ship's back wall turned into a gentle ramp down which the Runner ran outside. Nodding to my comrades, I pointed them toward the exit.
As expected, seeing the girl sleeping on a pile of their things, the Runner looked at us with rage.
The little girl (she looked about ten) with a round face and slightly protruding eyes was lying on top of a couple of large bags. When we found her in the cave after Alvar had fried his fellow-Runner's transmitter, the girl hadn't exactly wanted to talk. She huddled against the cave walls, tried to threaten us first with a scary-looking doll, then with something like a pocketknife.
But the recognized diplomat of our group, Teyla, was able to find common ground with the girl. And while we were moving with the unconscious Runner (yeah, I have to tell Chaya to adjust those electrical discharge settings) to the clearing, the "girls" had managed to become friends. As much as possible under the circumstances.
Celise.
"You left a child alone under the open sky?" he asked in a rage. "She's only wearing light clothes! She could have fallen ill!"
"Or died from the three or four illnesses we found in her by scanning her," I countered. "And yes, don't mention it. She was injected with medicine and is sleeping now. Sleeping and guarding your goods, because she told us you would definitely tell her to leave when you woke up. Both blankets, the new clothes, the small stock of medicine and food we put in the bags just in case, you can keep for yourselves. Consider it compensation for the fact that we, such barbarians, saved your life, took the girl from a damp cave, prevented her from developing pneumonia, and so on down the list. And you can consider yourself Stepfather of the Year. Because sticking a girl for several days in a dark, damp cave filled with a bunch of microorganisms and bacteria took some real effort not to use your head. Spoiler—you succeeded, Kiryk. But yes, you're right. The villains here are exclusively us."
But from the former Runner's face, it was clear that he had realized he was in the wrong.
"Why didn't you leave her in your ship or at least keep the hatch open?" Kiryk still looked at us with suspicion.
"First learn not to scream in your delirium," Alvar grunted, waving a hand and heading into the cockpit. "It's useless, Misha. Let them go their way."
"Celise wasn't the only one ill," Teyla said, approaching Kiryk. "The scanner showed you have a fever and your health isn't all that good."
"After the last attempt to cut out the transmitter, I've been unwell," the Runner admitted. "Thought it was just a common cold."
"Well, if sepsis is called that here, then yes," I agreed. "Whoever that hack was you went to, don't do it again. Unless you want to die before the girl even learns to braid her own hair. And yes, I almost forgot. Along with the medicine, there are instructions on what doses and how long to inject for you and her to get well. I don't recommend breaking the treatment schedule—otherwise, the illnesses will return."
We spoke in low voices, though expressively. It was somehow awkward to argue near the girl. A brave one beyond her years, for the record. If not for Kiryk's thunderous delirium during and after the operation, and the medication course, including field drainage of a few abscesses on his back, we wouldn't even have thought of shielding her from him.
Yes, it all looks like crap. There are wild animals in the forest and all that. Но even the Wraith would have needed time to break through the energy shield stretched across the entire clearing. No, not a cloak—a proper shield against all types of attacks, both kinetic and energy.
Of course, I admit, not the best decision, but until his condition was stabilized, one of us was always near the girl. It's not easy for her either. A Runner's life is no picnic. And for children who have barely tasted life by the spoonful—even less so.
So, as not to scare the girl with the sight of her protector tossing in delirium, shouting at the top of his lungs and weeping, lamenting how many people died because of his oversight, it was decided to do as we did. In this situation, the last thing I wanted was to scare a child with something like that. And keeping her, for example, in the Jumper, in the other compartment, was an even bigger stupidity: we'd have had to close the bulkheads for soundproofing and keep the ship idling. One careless move from a child waking up by chance and the ship could have thrown some surprise.
In short, though it was clumsy, I bet that it was the comfort, health, and opinion of the girl that would be the priority for our guest. We'll see if the investment pays off.
"Thank you," Kiryk adjusted the blanket on the girl, touching his lips to her forehead for a moment. "Her fever is almost gone."
"Antibiotics," I explained. "Defeating all the infection in her in one go won't work; you need to complete the full course... You have a supply, so if you want to go—go ahead, we're not holding anyone."
"But it would be safer with us," Teyla assured him. "The place where we come from is protected from the Wraith. There is a place to shelter, there is food, you can clean yourselves up. There, Celise and you will be given all necessary help."
"A safe haven where one can hide?" Kiryk asked.
"A new home where you don't have to think every day about how to save yourself and not let a child die," I specified. "Full board, plus the opportunity to study the sciences. For Celise, I think it will be better to listen to how this world works than such a life."
"Especially since you didn't have a choice before," Teyla added. "But now, when the transmitter is off..."
"Enough," Kiryk interrupted us. "I've heard enough."
"Your business," well, I'd done what I could. It seemed fortune had turned its back on us twice—both when we found him and when we tried to win his trust with good deeds.
Taking out a handheld, I used it to deactivate the power field around the clearing.
"Camp protection is down," the explanation to the puzzled Runner coincided with the waking girl throwing herself around his neck. "You can leave whenever and wherever you want."
However, the Runner wasn't even listening to me anymore.
"Kiryk! You're alive!"
"Yes," the stern Runner's voice held paternal warmth. "I'm fine. How are you?"
"I'm fine!" the girl's eyes were bright with joy. "I was ill, it turns out. And they," she looked warmly at Teyla, "gave me several completely painless injections! I slept and now I feel better. Is it true the Wraith aren't chasing you anymore?"
Kiryk looked at me once more.
"Yes, it's true," he stroked the girl's head. "Could you gather our things?"
"Are we leaving?" Celise looked into his eyes.
"Exactly. The sooner the better," Kiryk said.
"We're leaving too," I said. Too bad it didn't work. "If you want, we can drop you off at the Stargate."
"Gate?" Kiryk asked.
"The Ring of the Ancestors," Teyla explained.
"Ah, right," the former Runner nodded, matching the terms. "I have another proposal..."
* * *
"The activity of enemy hives in our sector of the galaxy does not exceed that usual for the Keepers," the first officer reported. "From which I conclude that besides ours, no other hive ship or object has been attacked with nuclear weapons."
"And that leads to certain thoughts," Styx said. "Why was our hive ship the target of the nuclear sabotage?"
"I assume competing hives are behind the attack," the first officer offered a version. "Our ship is potentially more powerful and dangerous than any other hive ship in the galaxy."
"Yes, but without a Lantean power source, all these changes and improvements, which are over ten thousand years old, are worth nothing," Styx countered. "I don't need to remind you of that."
"Perhaps the Keepers fear we have something that can power systems and weapons that have long been inactive," the first officer suggested. "If so, they may consider us a threat to the other hives."
"In that case, the Keepers would have awakened the queens and given them that information," Styx countered. "My hive ship has remained the only one in the galaxy for hundreds of years with such size and improved equipment. If they wanted to destroy it, they would have done it during a period of activity, not hibernation."
"Perhaps their humans didn't have nuclear weapons before. Analysis of the warhead shows it's a crude prototype."
"That's exactly what indicates the plan was imperfect," Styx stated. "The Keepers wouldn't have attacked us without a decision from a hive queen. And no queen would have risked using an unproven weapon of which there was only one specimen. Something doesn't add up here."
"And yet, my commander, only one version explains the reason for the attempt to blow us up," the first officer insisted. "One of the hives tracked our location, sent their worshippers there to commit sabotage... nothing but hive ships can track the position of other hive ships."
Actually, that was far from true.
But the first officer's version seemed logical.
At first glance.
Yes, the idea of using humans to destroy the most dangerous hive ship in the galaxy was attractive. That way the queen of the hive that devised it would remain beyond suspicion.
However, why precisely now?
Over the past millennia, the Wraith had destroyed hundreds, if not thousands of civilizations possessing even more destructive weaponry. Worshippers could have been among them too. And the plan could have been implemented much earlier.
But the move was made exactly now.
The logic of the plan that some hive—perhaps it was Sly Blade—had decided to get rid of them by proxy was based on only one assertion. Which couldn't be an axiom by its nature: the location of his hive had been revealed by other Wraith.
Purely theoretically, the Keepers could have done it—those Wraith from any hive who watch over the peace of the sleepers. But such actions require great courage from the Keepers. And without coordination with a hive queen, such actions are practically impossible. The adverse consequences are too great—terrorism by one hive against another, even if it has no queen, can lead to civil war. More than once or twice, the other Wraith have united against such initiators and completely destroyed them.
Simply to discourage others from acting the same way. Now, while the hives are in hibernation, the Wraith have enough food. The explosion of any hive or any other attack would only lead to the other Wraith awakening. And they would be very angry to find the human herd incapable of feeding them.
And then civil strife and a war of all against all would begin.
No one needs that.
It's illogical. While his ship was on the planet, healing the wounds received during a clash with another hive, any Wraith fleet wanting to destroy Styx's faction could easily have attacked them from orbit. It would have been simpler and more reliable for a victory.
Nuclear weapons brought aboard... that's not the scale of destruction at all. A bomb, though a dangerous creation, is nonetheless imperfect. Had Wraith been behind such an attack, they would have given their worshippers advice on how to strengthen it. And how to mine another's hive in a more worthy fashion.
Moreover, to blow up such a hive from within as Styx had at his disposal, it would have been better to use several bombs—for a guarantee.
His ship was modernized just over ten thousand years ago using a battery—a Lantean Zero Point Module. No one but the members of his hive knew how much the hull had been reinforced, the internal bulkheads strengthened, the structure and much more improved when using such a hybrid of technologies. Yes, they no longer have the battery and a significant part of the super-hive's systems was disconnected. And a long time ago.
But, again, this fact could only be confirmed or denied by members of his crew. And there were no traitors among them—otherwise, Styx would have discovered them in good time.
Consequently, there were no guarantees that a single prototype bomb could destroy Styx and his faction.
Or was the bet that because of the sabotage attempt Styx would awaken the other Wraith throughout the galaxy? A threat of such scale shouldn't be ignored—that's a rule.
And, if it turned out that there was no standing threat to all hives, those who woke up could have started hunting him and his hive. Was that the plan?
Unlikely. If other Wraith were behind the attack, they would have understood that after a sabotage attempt, the attacked hive would first head to the planet that struck the blow. And would try to resolve the crisis independently. Which, in fact, they successfully did.
Only in the event that the threat from the world that manufactured the atomic bomb was excessive could the attacked hive awaken the others without consequence to itself. But Styx handled it independently.
Had Wraith been involved, they would have understood that the population of Ermen couldn't be perceived as a galaxy-scale threat to all Wraith. Even the dullards of the recent generations of Wraith would know that.
The data doesn't come together into one picture.
A pity the saboteurs could not be interrogated.
"I don't believe these were the actions of other Wraith," Styx summarized his conclusions. "There is another reason the saboteurs found out where and when to look for us. Find it."
"Yes, commander."
Though the first officer did not agree with his commander's decision, he was obliged to obey him.
"Commander," a new second officer entered the room. "Information has come from the hunting teams regarding the last Runner."
"Is he destroyed?" Styx specified.
The commander didn't like what was happening around his hive. And so he decided to do everything to prepare his soldiers for a possible war. And what better way to do that than in a hunt for Runners?
"The Runner died," the second officer confirmed. "But it wasn't our hunters or soldiers who killed him."
"Explain yourself!" Styx demanded.
"His beacon signal cut out over a mountain river gorge," the second officer reported. "The hunters believed the Runner died through his own negligence."
"Unlikely, but such cases have happened before," Styx said after a moment's thought. "Do we have data on his actions?"
"Yes, commander," the second officer assured him. "I studied them and concluded the hunters were mistaken. I think the Runner is alive, and someone helped him hide from us."
"What gives you the right to say that?" the first officer protested.
"According to the hunt data, the last stretch of the way before his 'death,' the Runner covered at a speed of thirty kilometers per hour."
"Has he ever shown a speed of movement beyond human physiology before?" Styx asked, interested.
"Never, commander. I think he was on a ship we were unable to detect," the second officer suggested.
Styx looked thoughtfully at his first officer.
"The situation is repeating itself," the latter observed. "Our hunt, a Runner, the appearance of a cloaked ship, transmitters stop signaling. This cannot be a mere coincidence."
"Agreed," Styx nodded. "Someone is purposefully liberating our Runners."
"Yes, but why?" the second officer wondered.
"Likely, they are preparing an army against our hive," Styx suggested after a moment's thought. "Which means," he cast a warning look toward the first officer, "work on investigating the dialing device from Sudaria should be accelerated. And send a team to the planet where the last Runner vanished. I want to know who used the gate after our departure from there. I think we can find something in common in this data..."
And immediately after that, as soon as his ship's wounds healed and the flow of information regarding the gate address was sifted down to a manageable selection, Styx would go after his enemies.