Approaching the room with empty stasis pods, I felt a slight sense of déjà vu. Wasn't it in this very compartment that the series' heroes did exactly what I intend to do?
Teyla looked around with slight confusion, Kirik frowned. Kanaan and the second Athosian were on duty at the teleportation cabin. Just in case.
[Image: A frame from the series.]
"Are you sure you want to go?" the former fugitive asked at the very moment I activated the pod.
The transparent lid hissed and rose slightly. And at the same moment, an anatomical bed extended from the wall. It's a bit narrow, of course, and this "headrest" reminds me of a block, where heads are usually chopped off. Or dissected with pathological saws.
"No other way," I cut him off. "Wraiths will be here soon. The least I can do is contact the crew."
"This could be dangerous," Teyla worried.
"The pod creates a feedback loop between the processor of virtual reality, or the virtual environment they have there," I pointed to the nearest pod with an Ancient inside, "and the brain. You can get out of there simply by wishing it. But to leave without doing anything, abandoning the crew or destroying the ship so it doesn't fall into the hands of the Wraiths, is not an option. At least not yet."
I will blame myself for the rest of my days for not trying to finish the job.
A rather harsh bed in this capsule, I must admit. Though the mattresses on Atlantis are hardly stuffed with down.
"What if everything goes wrong?" Teila asked, approaching the capsule.
"On the panel," I pointed to a small vertical console to the right of my capsule, "there's a large white button. Yes," Kirik pointed to the massive key I used to prepare the capsule for immersion, "that's the one. It controls the capsule's operation. Pressing it can either get me out or send me in. If I don't get out in two and a half hours, press it. Or," seeing Kirik's disapproving look, I had to clarify, "if the Wraiths arrive earlier. Or in any other emergency situation. As a last resort, Alvar will buy us time, cover us so we can get out of here before everything goes to hell."
However, I'm not sure the Wraiths, upon discovering the "Aurora," would destroy it. They clearly know the ship's purpose. If I were them, I'd do everything to get any known information from the Ancients. Even if they are currently less than frozen vegetables in the refrigerator.
"And what if the dreadnought shuts down again?" Teila asked.
"It shouldn't this time," I assured her. "The main thing is to keep an eye on Koschei. He must remain in the solitary confinement until I say otherwise. Remember?"
"Yes," Teila said for both of them.
"I'll make sure," Kirik promised, looking me in the eye. "Two and a half hours. No more. Then I'll pull you out."
Let's just hope not with a sledgehammer.
Settling in comfortably, I gave the signal. Kirik pressed the key he was shown.
"Well, let's g—" I decided to cheer myself up with a well-known phrase. But I plunged into darkness.
And then came the light.
"... I finished, finding myself inside an exact replica of the room where I lay down in the stasis capsule. I looked around.
"Some kind of déjà vu," I muttered, smoothing my uniform with my hands. I was dressed in the exact same uniform I first put on when I arrived on Atlantis. Nostalgia, however...
Everything around is exactly as I saw it in reality. Except that the virtual environment of the capsule is absent. In its place are decorative plugs. Curious.
The light is annoying—it's white-blue. And the "Aurora's" walls don't seem to be lit by it. The starship is actually painted in light tones inside! I didn't notice this in reality because it was dark. And I myself was somewhat preoccupied with repairing the teleportation chamber to study the interior.
I hadn't even had time to think about anything else: with a slight hiss, the door opened, and a young man entered, peering at the screens of an Ancient's laptop.
Just like that. No "tutorial," no instructions on how to behave in virtual reality. Though, they don't write how to cut with a knife either... And for the Ancients, judging by everything, such technologies...
"Ouch!" I involuntarily exclaimed as the ancient kid (no, really, he looked about twenty years old!) ran headfirst into me.
Dropping his laptop, he jumped back from me as if scalded.
He grabbed something on his belt that looked very much like the popular electroshock flashlights of a while back and pointed it at me: "Who are you? What are you doing in the restricted section?"
"Which one?" I clarified.
"This is the deck's distribution hub, the energy section," he muttered. "Access is only allowed to technical personnel. That is, me and my subordinates! I don't know you!"
"Ah," I nodded. "Want some advice?"
I just can't treat a person who still has acne scars on their skin like an adult! And these, damn it, Lantians?! Even we, the backward (compared to them) Earthlings, invented "Kryrosil"! It helps, though poorly, but the fact itself!
The guy frowned, clearly confused. Well, great, the plan is working... By the way, what was it? Ah, yes, get to the captain as quickly as possible! Well, I'll definitely get to him. I can kill some time.
It's curious that when Earthlings connected to the "Aurora's" virtual environment in the same way, they met this same young man. Does he have a ten-thousand-year shift here? By this very door?
"Security to the third distribution hub," the guy kept me at gunpoint with the electroshock weapon, touching his fingers to a small brooch under his collar. A decoration—an Ancient's communication device. But... how to put it simply... You can whisper into it. But what they say back to you will be heard by everyone around. "What advice did you want to give me?"
"Before you point a high-tech dildo at someone's face, you should introduce yourself first," I said as friendly as possible. Yes, I can. He won't understand anyway...
"How can you compare a weapon to an intimate item?" he was taken aback.
...it. And he's looking at the device in his hands suspiciously anew. D-a-a-a-mn... Please, just don't decide to test it out. Or it'll be like that joke about the guys who hanged themselves from a doorknob with a towel. Universe, don't be harsh with me. I didn't break the Ancient on purpose.
Ancient electroshock weapon.
I snapped my fingers to get his attention.
"Don't think about it," I asked. "Better introduce yourself."
"Why should I tell you my name?" he protested. "Security will come now and..."
"Because, my young friend, you are waiting for help from Atlantis," I reminded him.
"Yes," he frowned. "And..."
"And I've arrived. My name is Mikhail."
"Ihaar," he said, embarrassed, putting the weapon back in its holster. "Senior engineer of the dreadnought 'Aurora.' We've been waiting for you for so long..."
"Mikhail!" a cry from my grandmother, Andrey Rozhkov, echoed in my head. And with his signature costume change and intonation... In short, you have to see and hear it.
Something like this.
I had to shake my head to get the inappropriate analogy out of it. His name is rather strange. I always thought the Ancients had names with a Latin flair. In this universe, by the way, the Ancient language became its progenitor.
Ancient Ihaar.
This was hidden from my new acquaintance because, in the same way he did before, two guys about thirty years old with extremely unfriendly looks entered the room.
Well... Here we go...
Unlike what I saw in the series footage, the "Aurora's" bridge in the virtual environment looks much more... alive, perhaps. Although even there it looked more like a place where a drunk props master came to work drunk. And decided that chaos would be more beneficial to the creative process.
The "Aurora's" bridge in reality.
In the virtual environment, the ship's bridge, although different from the one on the "Hippaphoralkus," still bore a significant resemblance to it. For example, in design.
The "Aurora's" bridge in virtual reality.
I even marveled at how neat, clean... And comfortable it was, when there were not just a couple of people on the bridge who knew what a few buttons on the consoles in front of you were for. Although, I must admit, in the role of the "Aurora's" captain, it wouldn't be easy for me—two consoles right in front of my eyes...
But I think the captain, this sturdy, gray-haired man who was currently occupying the command chair, is not as despondent as I am. If only because he is currently conversing with a pretty lady of middle age standing next to him in a form-fitting uniform, quite different from those worn by other female Ancients on board.
Indeed, in what fleet do women in senior officer positions have such freedom... The uniform is tailored, the sleeves are open, and you don't have to tie your hair back, but wear it in large curls... It smells of non-regulation relations, you know...
"Captain, senior officer," wow, Ihaar, you're here too? I didn't even notice he followed me and the goons from security. "The detainee has been delivered."
The man sitting in the chair turned to me. His face, creased with age, reflected curiosity. But his assistant gave me a contemptuous look, as if I were a courier who was two hours late with her favorite pizza. "Bitch," I thought. And it's fine if she acted like that in the series—there were reasons.
But in reality, she doesn't seem to be a sweetheart either.
The "Aurora's" Captain and Officer Trebal.
"Curious..." the ship's commander said, studying me with interest. "You're wearing our uniform..."
And that's how he started the conversation in the series. Are they scripted or something?
"And you don't know me," I finished for him.
"Correct," he said, slightly surprised. He probably hoped to say it himself.
The surrounding Ancients looked at me like a strange little animal. Annoying.
"Let's get straight to the point," I suggested.
"Try," the captain nodded. "Start with where you introduce yourself as a person from Atlantis, but didn't enter the security code when immersing in virtual reality."
Um...
"I don't think modern access codes would be recognized by an outdated computer," I tried to maneuver.
"I don't think a rescue team would overlook such trifles," the bitch said, unexpectedly good-naturedly. "A security code would have helped us avoid awkward situations like this. It would be better if you clarify this situation. Mutual trust is important for all of us in such troubled times."
"Calm down," the captain asked.
Hmm... Now it's clear why the events in the series unfolded this way. Why a replacement, not entry through any available capsule.
"You know, Officer Trebal, you're much nicer when you don't have a Wraith in you," I blurted out. No, really, she's quite cute.
And... I shouldn't have said that. All her good nature vanished like wind.
"Excuse me?" she said in an icy tone.
How can I explain that in the series I watched in another universe, about this universe, the Wraiths, upon discovering the "Aurora," pulled Trebal, the captain's assistant, out of the stasis capsule, killed her, and replaced her in virtual reality with themselves, faking the blonde's appearance? Here, at best, a padded cell...
"No, you excuse me," I conceded. "After ten thousand years, humor... has undergone some changes."
A sigh of amazement swept through the assembled Ancients. And only after that did it dawn on me.
"You didn't know how long you were in stasis?" I asked.
"We didn't know," the captain said sadly. "The system is programmed to make the sense of time disappear. This reduces psychological pressure. Well... That explains a lot."
Seriously? And what does it explain?
"Sir," I addressed the man. But he just raised an eyebrow in surprise.
"Sir?" he repeated. "Is that some form of address?"
"After ten thousand years, everything could have changed," Trebal suggested. "Including rescue protocols. Otherwise, such a young specialist wouldn't have been sent alone."
"Perhaps," the "Aurora's" captain turned to the console for a moment, his fingers brushing over the buttons. Curious... Nothing new appeared on any of the screens.
I glanced at Ihaar. The guy looked about five years younger than me. And already a senior engineer on a combat dreadnought.
"Young?" I clarified.
"Excuse Officer Trebal," the ship's commander asked, turning back to me. "Sometimes her humor can be... out of place."
"So we have something in common," Trebal ignored the smile I gave her. "Captain, can we talk in private?"
"You're reading my mind," he sighed, getting out of the chair and pointing to the passage I entered through. "Let's take a walk. We have a lot to talk about, long-awaited compatriot."
The guards who escorted me here and stood behind us silently parted, letting us into the corridor. Interesting, no one followed us. Discipline, however.
The captain showed me trust, and clearly no one intended to dispute his decision. And I like that...
We turned into one of the corridors and entered a small room. Something nondescript, given the absence of control panels and crew members. But there were transport containers... Several of them. Hmm, couldn't they find a better place than storing everything near the bridge?
The captain silently pointed to one of them. He himself sat on a second one so that he could look me directly in the eye.
"Start talking," he ordered coldly, despite his friendly expression. "The truth. From the very beginning."
Well... It's going to be a difficult conversation.