When the last crystal took its place, I pulled back from the control panel and glanced at Chaya, who seemed frozen. The girl sat at the control console, staring silently straight ahead. But her gaze said her thoughts were completely elsewhere.
"I think it's time to start." I only managed to get her attention on the second try. The girl, looking at me, nodded silently and ran her fingers over the workstation buttons. "And it would be good to let the others know what we're about to do."
Chaya froze for a moment, then her hand moved to the edge of the console and pressed one of the buttons.
"Engineering to all decks," she said. "We are preparing to start the reactor. Finish your work and report immediately."
Releasing the button, she looked at me without a hint of regret.
She does not like our forced ally.
At the moment, the Athosians and Taranians had finished their front of the work. Their tasks involved replacing the designated failed crystals on several decks. Thanks to this, as well as Michael's work on-site, power circuits had been restored in the living quarters, the mess hall, the sanitary zone, and the hangar. Not to mention that the subspace transmitter, scanners, and artificial gravity were now operational.
As for the fact that the ship's auxiliary bridge had no connection even to secondary systems all this time due to the destruction of control channels—there's nothing more to say. The bridge, the place from which the ship is controlled by default, functioned exclusively on backup circuits. Michael was currently busy repairing them.
The voltage there is such that an electric shock wouldn't just be painful—it would cremate you in a couple of seconds. After all, the operation of such a starship requires a colossal expenditure of energy. Even for secondary systems.
"Alvar here," a voice came from the hidden speakers. "The Wraith has finished with the last section of the destroyed wiring. The fuses are in place; the circuit is glowing white."
The Ancients have a very interesting fault warning system. If the equipment is functional, its internal backlight is white. If there are damages in the main system, it's dim. Destruction of the main circuit blocking its operation is red. An absence of power in the network or a malfunction in the main, backup, and emergency circuits—no backlight at all. Quite convenient—you remove the protective cover and calmly observe whether the system is in order in a specific section.
When the backlight shows a malfunction, it's easy to detect with a scanner or even visually. The crystals the Ancients used in their devices have, as it turns out, not only the function of microchips but also relays, fuses, power controllers, and other protective and distributive mechanisms. Therefore, it's often these that fail, rather than the wiring as a whole. Chaya said something about how changing crystals is much easier than opening walls and repairing wiring. Ancient crystals were intentionally made the so-called "weak link." Quite pragmatic, actually—it's easier to change an element that is easy to extract than to dismantle half the structure. Or to rearrange the crystals to start one of the auxiliary or backup systems instead of a damaged main one.
This explains the reason why, in the events I knew of, Earthlings quite often "repaired" damaged Ancient technologies (and those of other races using the same technological principles) by replacing crystals. And they very rarely restored damaged wiring. And yes, sometimes this led to catastrophic consequences. Well, as for "sometimes"... practically always.
But I don't have a technically literate world-saving team at hand, so we have to work on restoring everything that can be fixed. And without any optimistic hopes that it will just work and turn out fine, as it did for the Earthlings in the events I knew.
The panel in front of me, as well as the other twenty in which I'd had to replace more than half the crystals, filled with light. The crystals glowed like lights on a Christmas tree. Except they didn't blink, limiting themselves to a steady glow and a barely audible hum.
"Looks like it's working." I looked at the screen of my scanner, running it along the row of opened consoles. In none of the crystal slots did the smart device detect any malfunctions. "What about you?"
"The reactor has reached minimum power," Chaya said. "Energy is being transferred to all compartments of the ship... Running diagnostics."
Her voice sounded somewhat joyless. Although there was something to celebrate here!
In less than two weeks, we had managed to bring this tub into a god-fearing state. We repaired the main systems where they had been working on secondary circuits, partially established the operation of the main and backup systems in critically damaged areas of the ship, and corrected the power output on several damaged shield projectors...
We now had sublight engines, shields, weapons, life support, and much more! And it wasn't working on hypothetical "twists" and "jumper wires," but on full-fledged, albeit repaired, circuits! The ship had been restored in less than a month!
Yes, we still needed to work on the hyperdrive, but the most large-scale work was completed. We'd deal with the hyperdrive later—the necessary spare parts and ultra-dense crystals were being manufactured for it right now. If ordinary ones could be created from silicon—though not just any kind—then the hyperdrive... like other highly technological Ancient mechanisms requiring surgical precision in tuning and operation, required a completely different type of crystal.
Strength, optical purity, and a good dozen other characteristics that must be taken into account during manufacturing.
And then there was the need for diamonds. Quite a lot of them, in fact.
The Athosians mine them on Ermen, but Chaya rejected about eighty percent of the discovered diamonds. She claimed they weren't at all what was needed. Though, what difference does it make if we're just loading them into the workshop's processor for subsequent melting and purification?
Yes, it turns out diamonds can be not only polished but also melted, turning into the most expensive glass I've ever seen—I had to accept that as a given. I suspect that for the couple of crystals needed to restore the hyperdrive, one could buy a planet or two somewhere on the galactic black market. Most likely even with serfs included.
For about an hour, while I gathered tools and damaged parts from across the compartment, sorting them into those we could still use and those that could be sent for recycling, Chaya watched the color-coded schematic of the ship displayed on a large monitor without looking away.
"Everything is ready," Chaya said. "Energy fluctuations are observed in the lighting and power systems of two ammunition storage bays, but they are not critical for flight. I have disconnected them from the grid, and they will cause no further problems."
"Excellent," I winked at the girl. "Time to head back to the bridge, talk to the others, get some rest, and tomorrow we'll start on the hyperdrive repairs. You said we could manage it in a couple of days, right?"
"One day for dismantling and detailed defect analysis, and another for programming the new crystals and repairs," Chaya confirmed, being the first to exit the compartment. Fatigue or not, one shouldn't forget gallantry.
"We managed it in less than a month," I said as we walked. "In doing so, we've effectively restored the ship to combat-ready status. It's strange the Ancients didn't do this."
"They could have," Chaya said. "Taranis's resources allowed them to smelt and replace all damaged hull elements or fix mechanical damage. However, the planet lacks deposits of the necessary minerals to repair wiring damage and create the required crystals for the primary systems. Even for auxiliary systems, the local silicon isn't particularly suitable. Tens of tons of matter would have to be run through separators to create what we manufactured in a few weeks."
Logical, considering that Lantea-2, where we sourced resources for the routine systems, became inaccessible to the Ancients during the war.
"Furthermore," Chaya said sadly, "this is just one ship. Moreover, as the Wraith said, it was a former research vessel converted for combat. Even with a ZPM on board, it wouldn't have played a major role in the closing stages of the war. It was simply left for better times."
"Well, it's actually good that it wasn't repaired or destroyed during an encounter with the Wraith," I noted. "Now we have a functional combat starship."
"It will only be functional once we repair the hyperdrive," the Proculusian corrected me.
"That won't be a problem," I assured her. "By the way, did you check Koschei's words about there being several versions of battleships of this type?"
"Yes," Chaya replied. "I had to hack several military databases on Atlantis, but... He is right. For most of the war, the Ancients only used former research starships converted for military use. They were not very well-suited for confronting the numerically superior Wraith starships. Only in the final decades of the conflict did the Council of Atlantis order the development of purely military starships based on the data gathered during the conflict. But there simply weren't enough of them to turn the tide of battle. As I understand it, the Ancients underestimated the Wraith threat for a long time. Koschei was right—they sent their starships unescorted further and further into the Wraith rear, relying on the power of their weapons and technology. This led to the turning point in the war—the Wraith lured hundreds, even thousands of various types of starships into ambushes, lost ten times as many ships, but managed to strip Atlantis of its advantage. After that, they went on the counter-offensive. This is only surface-level information; analyzing the chronicles of the Wraith war in more detail would require thousands of hours of free time."
"I think we'll have that time after we save the Aurora's crew," I said. "Right now, we simply don't have enough hands to get distracted by ten-thousand-year-old history."
"That is true," Chaya confirmed with longing and fatigue in her voice. "We are desperately short of competent sentients. I am certain that if we had at least a hundred competent Taranian scientists, you wouldn't have involved the Wraith in the work."
So that was it... And she knew he would be working for us. Yet, as soon as she faced the pre-discussed facts, she backed down, demonstrating her unwillingness to cooperate with him in every way. Even though the Wraith, for the sake of safety, only worked on systems where he couldn't harm us or set some kind of trap—systems she herself had assigned as his scope of work—the Proculusian was still dissatisfied.
How was I supposed to deal with this?
Actually, tired of her reaction and worsening mood, I asked the question on my mind directly.
"What's going on? You knew he would be working with us. You agreed yourself that it would be the right thing..."
"We only spoke about him helping to restore other Lanteans," Chaya's voice grew firmer and more confident. It seemed she was also irritated by all these unspoken tensions. And as soon as the opportunity to fix the situation appeared, she decided to speak out. "I agreed to that, but I didn't think you would bring him to repair the ship! You realize how dangerous that is!"
"But you're checking and double-checking his work yourself," I reminded her. "And you said he hasn't done anything that could harm us."
"I think so. But knowing the degree of treachery of these creatures, I don't rule out... that danger will await us in open space!" The girl stopped in the middle of the corridor and looked at me with accusation in her eyes.
"And what do you suggest?" Now irritation appeared in me as well. "Sit quietly and wait while we spend a year or so restoring a single starship? Who even knows what could happen in that time? We're short on people!"
"I could have handled training the Athosians..."
"So you trust people who might have Wraith genes more than the Wraith?"
"Yes!" Lightning flashed in Chaya's eyes. "At least they haven't spent their time sucking the life out of those I knew and held dear! We are cooperating with an enemy who is just waiting for the moment to stab us in the back!"
Here we go again...
"We've already discussed this," I reminded her. "The plan won't work without him."
"And do we even need a plan where we depend on a Wraith, returning sentients to the city who might kick us out of Atlantis or become enemies altogether?" the angry Chaya clarified. "If you haven't forgotten, the Ascended are closer to them than you or I. And surely, the Ascended don't have a grudge against the Aurora's crew like they do against you or me!"
"So, in your opinion, it would be better to spend decades teaching Athosians or someone else the knowledge of the Ancients, rather than bringing the Ancients themselves back to life?" This "Baba Yaga is against it" behavior of hers was starting to get annoying. Even making me angry.
"I will say it again—yes!" Chaya said. "In my view, it is much more practical than trusting a Wraith responsible for the deaths of thousands, if not millions, and hoping he won't betray us..."
No, I understood the full danger of such behavior. But at the same time, it was a bit much to worry about every little thing. She had worried less about the information regarding Queen Death being right next door!
I sensed there was something else here... Something more personal.
And it certainly wasn't the fear that we might be kicked out of Atlantis—we'd find ourselves somewhere else, no problem. Yes, it wouldn't be Atlantis, but... In the end, dozens of Ancient facilities are scattered across the galaxy. We'd surely find a place in one of them. Not to mention that on Taranis itself, one could live quite comfortably and wonderfully. Or on Athos... In short, there are no hopeless situations. Or I don't see them. And Chaya can't point them out, even though as the smarter one (and there's no shame in that) and the more competent one regarding Lanteans, she of all people should know what to expect from them.
Not to mention that it's not even a fact the crew is comprised of Lanteans. We have no data on that, so for a combination of reasons, I'd prefer not to mess around and just act.
A rolling stone gathers no moss.
"You're hiding something from me," I stated. "You have a personal motive for not wanting to meet the Aurora's crew, don't you?"
"That is my personal business!" Chaya snapped. "I have outlined the threats to you, but if you believe the risk justifies the possible consequences, then the decision is yours to make. After all, you are our generator of ideas, and I am merely an engineer, a master of technology! You said it—I did it! And now, I need to attend to the hyperdrive!"
Without saying another word, the girl grabbed her tool bag and headed down the corridor. But almost immediately, she turned into one of the side passages and vanished from my sight.
Now what the hell is going on here, I'd like to know?
***
"You're leaving, aren't you?" Seliz asked quietly, watching as Kiryk packed his few belongings into a travel bag.
"We depart tomorrow," he informed her, folding a second set of clothes and several spare weapons. Even though an arsenal of small arms had been set up on the ship and everyone would have at least a pistol or an assault rifle, life had taught the former runner to approach expeditions that might drag on with professional care. "The final preparations and checks are happening while we speak. The ship has already made test flights from Taranis to Atlantis, and everything is fine. Mikhail doesn't want to wait."
"So why doesn't he fly alone?" Seliz asked. "You said Chaya flew between planets by herself."
Kiryk sighed heavily.
"Not exactly alone," he admitted. "Mikhail was beside her, learning to pilot the ship. He says it's no harder than flying a Jumper. But... that's their business, the Ancients'."
"Did they make up?"
"I don't think so. Otherwise, Chaya would be flying with us instead of deciding to stay on Atlantis."
"I see," Seliz sighed. "If she were flying, I would have stayed with Teyla's people. They are good."
"They have a lot of work right now," Kiryk reminded her. "Everyone, even the children, is involved in clearing new fields. I would have liked you to stay there too, but Chaya said you need to review the material you've covered. Since you wanted to become a doctor..."
He didn't mention that Sar had uncompromisingly taken the girl under her wing and tutelage as soon as it became known that the Ancient gene had taken hold in her. Nor did he mention that the gene was very weak, and there was no hope that Seliz would one day give him a ride in a Jumper. But she would still be able to use the simplest technologies of the Ancestors. And she was very interested in medicine.
"I promised you I would become a doctor and remove that thing from your back," Seliz said, turning serious.
"I remember," Kiryk couldn't suppress a wide smile. "I'm sure you'll succeed. But now that the gene has taken hold, you'll have to study even harder."
Seliz grew sad. While the Athosian children played with each other or were busy in the fields, she would languish under hundreds of meters of ocean in an empty city. And her only conversational partner would be the increasingly irritable Chaya Sar. However, after the gene had taken hold, the Ancient had become more attentive to the girl. Even caring.
"Can I go with you?" the girl asked. "I don't want to sit here alone..."
Kiryk tossed the last item he wanted to take into the bag. Looking at his ward, he smiled and walked over to the bed. Seliz was sitting on the edge, legs dangling, hugging a rag doll he had made for her some time ago.
Sitting down in front of the girl, he habitually tapped her nose, still smiling.
"You won't be alone," he assured her. "Chaya is staying with you. She promised to look after you while we're away. So you have nothing to fear."
"I'm scared," the girl admitted. "It's so empty here... Everything glows, there's no one around, and I don't know what to do."
"But you're learning," Kiryk reminded her. "Chaya says you're doing well with what the computer tells you."
"It's interesting," the girl confirmed. "But there's still so much to learn. Chaya said it could take a lifetime because the Ancients had so much knowledge. If I want to be useful, I have to study a lot while I'm little."
"But it's better than running from the Wraith, isn't it?" Kiryk clarified.
"Yes," Seliz admitted. "And the food here is delicious."
The former runner ruffled her hair and stood up.
"Then everything is fine," he said. "You won't even have time to miss me before I'm back."
"And will there be more people in the city?" Seliz perked up.
"If everything goes well," Kiryk confirmed.
"And will there be someone to play with?"
Kiryk didn't like lying to his ward. But he also reasonably doubted that on an Ancient warship there would be anyone interested in playing with a girl from a primitive (by their standards) world.
Therefore, the child's attention had to be redirected.
"Oh, so that's how it is, then?" I pouted theatrically. "Decided that since you beat me three times at checkers, I'm not interesting anymore?"
The game Mikhail had shown her had really hooked Seliz. So much so that she could play it all day long. But finding game partners was difficult—the Athosian children preferred playing "Wraith" to sliding round pieces across a checkered board.
***
Contrary to Chaya's promise, the hyperdrive repair took only a day and a half instead of two. At first, I thought of the worst—had the girl planted some kind of trap for us—but the onboard computer and scanning systems, including independent ones, showed that the mechanism was working properly.
This was also confirmed by our independent cannibal-expert named Koschei. He also double-checked and confirmed the correctness of the jump coordinates provided by Chaya. Yes, a Wraith isn't the most reliable source of information, but after the outburst a day ago, Chaya had effectively reduced our communication to a "boss-subordinate" level. For what reason and what demons in her head were loving each other to cause such a performance, the Proculusian refused to say. Just as she refused to talk about anything other than the mission.
And I had no other data sources. This kind of behavior was starting to get annoying. And I think after returning from the expedition, I'll need to resolve the issue of my own usefulness independently. Possessing the Ancient gene but not their knowledge, being an errand boy—I'm frankly fed up with it.
The Hippaforalkus was almost completely repaired and ready to head for the Aurora. Therefore, there was no reason to delay. Provisions were currently being loaded onto the ship based on the small crew going on the expedition. Me, Kiryk, Alvar, Teyla, and a dozen Athosians as jailers and guards for Koschei, who was also flying with us.
"Dynamic diagnostics have not revealed any malfunctions," Chaya said monotonically. Besides the two of us, there was no one else on board the Hippaforalkus. The rest of the crew were currently at their posts—Athosians were on duty near the generator room, the auxiliary bridge, life support systems, cells, and so on. Or they were just about to board with the cargo. "Systems are operating optimally."
The fact that there was a transporter on board the ship—exactly the same chamber as the network found on Atlantis—made life much easier. No more flying in Puddle Jumpers. A couple of seconds—and you're from the ocean floor to the deck of a starship.
"You have a third of the standard drone complement, but that will be enough to fight an entire squadron. I've set the pulse energy cannons to defensive mode, so you'll have something to fend off Darts. But, I repeat, it's unlikely you'll encounter an enemy at the Aurora."
"Is the Wraith mental shielding working without glitches?" I asked. After dozens of attempts to talk to her about other topics, I'd given up. If she doesn't want to, fine. I don't know what it is—female or professional jealousy—but the fact remains: our relationship with Chaya had changed for the worse. Not a single logical argument for her to fly with us had moved her. So, I had to make do with numerous spare parts and full ship schematics. If something went wrong, we could perform minor repairs ourselves.
And the ship's control systems, in truth, weren't more complicated than a Jumper's. From the command chair, one could control the starship with the power of thought, and the smart onboard computers would do everything themselves. Except that launching drones from outside the special compartment was quite problematic. But one could get from the bridge to the necessary room in a couple of minutes. In that time, our shields wouldn't be breached under any circumstances. At least if we're talking about Wraith technology.
Yes, Chaya said she had run a temporary control line from the drone-launching chair to my console, but it didn't hurt to be safe.
"Everything is operating normally," Chaya replied dryly. "Once you reach the ship, just think about docking. The battleship will equalize speeds and moor to the Aurora itself. You have five spacesuits just in case. I've copied the Aurora's schematics to your scanner and the Hippaforalkus's database, so you can configure things on board yourself. The stasis chambers installed on board are easily removed and have a day's worth of power. That will be plenty for you to move them to the Hippaforalkus and connect them to its power system in storage bays two through ten. If the Wraith can revive any of the crew members, I suggest starting with the captain, chief engineer, or senior officer—they possess the most complete information about the ship and the technology on board. At least they should."
"Good," I nodded. "Any other advice?"
"Don't forget to activate the inertial dampeners before engaging the engines," Sar said.
"Got it," yes, I wasn't keen on experiencing G-forces either. "Anything else?"
"Kill the Wraith the moment it seems like he's deceiving you," Chaya said coldly. "Because it won't just be your imagination."
"I'll keep that in mind," I promised. "Take care of yourself, Seliz, the city, and everything of ours while we're gone. We'll be back fairly soon..."
Chaya didn't respond to the remark. She simply nodded to Kiryk and Alvar as they entered the bridge and left us. The guys took their places at the consoles—Chaya had taught them how to operate the systems using an express method during the loading—and pretended they hadn't noticed anything.
"Teyla will join us shortly," Alvar said, staring at the infinite space opening before us. "She decided to check the posts..."
I closed my eyes, allowing my mind to connect to the ship's systems. The Hippaforalkus, like a Jumper, didn't have its own intelligence or anything resembling it. It's hard to describe what you feel when connecting to such systems... Like a trained dog sitting quietly and waiting for your command.
"I think it's time to start," I said, receiving confirmation from the ship that Chaya had left the battleship. Keeping her on board against her will would have been an utter stupidity. For now, there's a chance to restore the relationship; no need to force things.
"All is quiet on board," came Teyla's voice as she entered the bridge. She slipped behind the auxiliary systems control console and, like Kiryk and Alvar, used the tether straps. Non-standard equipment, by the way. Apparently, the Ancients didn't have the habit of "buckling up behind the wheel." "Koschei has been placed in a cell; they knocked him out with a stunner and hooked him up to a sedative IV."
We had enough supplies for the flight there and back. It worked during his transport to Atlantis; it would work now.
"Well then," I gave the mental command to activate the inertial dampeners and the protocol-mandated systems. "As they say, 'let's go'..."
In front of the Hippaforalkus's nose, a pale green, ink-blot-like window into hyperspace tore open. And in a second, the starship was inside a glowing tunnel. My first interstellar flight had begun.
The Hippaforalkus enters hyperspace.