The planet Anava could impress anyone who happened to be on it.
Despite the fact that there weren't many settlements here, the local inhabitants had earned a reputation for being good and honest people. For a small fee, one could rent a small plot of land here to build their home or a trading stall.
The latter was the cheapest, and a hundred times more profitable. After all, the number of people visiting the trading planet daily sometimes went off the charts. Goods from many planets sold out faster than baked goods.
Many currencies were accepted here, but most often, barter took place between traders and buyers. It was simpler and more profitable that way… But it also prolonged the trading process – after all, the seller wanted to get as much value as possible for their goods. While the buyer wanted to give less, but in return… Their desires were not much different from the seller's.
However, each acted solely in their own interest.
Kaspar Fry, a tall, powerfully built man with rugged facial features that many would consider stern and even intimidating, strolled leisurely along the market stalls. He was dressed in clothes that resembled those worn by the locals.
It was necessary to avoid arousing suspicion.
Although among the townspeople and visitors, there were often various kinds of cunning and clearly unfriendly individuals, under whose clothes both cold and firearms were visible, if Kaspar had come here in his usual attire and with his standard equipment, it would have raised too many questions.
And he needed questions the least.
On the contrary, he had come here for answers.
Pretending to be quite knowledgeable about the goods and an attentive buyer, as he had done many times before, the man had learned over the years of immersing himself in the life of places like this to filter out empty words and shouts.
"Belkadan flax!" shouted one of the plump merchants, drawing attention to his stall. Despite the fact that he already had quite a few people gathered around his counter, the merchant clearly wasn't new to the business.
"Dressed in crudely sewn clothes, asking too many questions about the goods, only carrying meager bags," Fry noted, glancing at the crowd gathered at the Belkadan's counter.
No, such buyers would never acquire even a couple of sacks of the famous Belkadan flax. This crop was the pride of those from Belkan. Resistant to most known agricultural diseases, it could grow even in the most unsuitable conditions.
A very valuable resource for exchange.
And not affordable for everyone.
These rags, examining the flax seeds, even if they sold everything they had, wouldn't get enough sacks in return to feed themselves.
"Wine! Belsal wine!" a burly young man shouted with effort, trudging along the market rows with a rather large barrel on his shoulders.
Also a valuable commodity, though not as popular as grains, vegetables, and medicinal herbs.
The fair on planet Anava.
Karsar listened to the cries of the hawkers but couldn't hear what he needed.
Despite the fact that his people could use absolutely everything the local traders offered, the purchases were being handled by other members of his group. He himself was performing reconnaissance duties.
Recently, something had changed, and this information needed to be thoroughly examined.
Finally, the sounds he needed reached his ears.
Trying not to attract attention to himself, he began a slow drift along the buyers, slipping between them so as not to draw undue notice. On trading planets like this, there were a large number of various visitors. They came here now and would likely come many more times. It was not worth making himself memorable to any of the buyers unnecessarily.
In the third row of stalls, where not the poor but moderately wealthy merchants plied their trade, he spotted familiar faces. And, frankly, in this particular part of the market, he least expected to see Athosians.
Despite the fact that they traded a lot of everything, from information and guide services to decent ale and simple root vegetables, fruits, and other uncomplicated produce from the fields, they were never distinguished by a desire to spend money on improving their trading locations.
They huddled behind the cheapest stalls, where buyers as poor as the sellers visited. And this was quite telling.
Something had indeed changed with the Athosians, for them to decide to spend such rare money to improve their trading position. Was it related to their products, or was there something else?
"...I hate being strung along!" hissed the man standing opposite the trading stall, his voice slightly muffled.
"In that case, I don't understand why you want to quarrel with us," the young woman with chestnut hair said with utmost amiability.
"Teila!" the same man exclaimed in a voice full of irritation. "Your people have never grown tava beans! Ne-ver!" he emphasized, almost syllable by syllable. "And now you're trading them! This is a violation of the agreements made with us! The Athosians have betrayed my people!"
Irritation showed on the face of the leader of the Athosian people. As did on the faces of the five Athosians gathered nearby. Some behind the counter, some nearby, guarding the goods.
Kaspar quickly figured out that among the simple onlookers and those standing near the angry man were at least six other men who were in solidarity with him. They pretended as if nothing was happening and the scandal didn't concern them. But in reality, it was quite the opposite.
They were ready to intervene at any moment and were just waiting for a signal. Judging by whom they were looking at, the signal was not to be given by Teila.
"My people have never betrayed anyone," Teila Emmagan was clearly holding on by her last strength.
"But tava beans!" the little man exclaimed.
"The fact that our new crop resembles tava beans doesn't mean it is them," the Athosian countered.
"If something looks like tava beans, smells like tava beans, tastes like tava beans, then it is tava beans!" the little man insisted.
"It seems there are some problems?" Fry inquired innocently, approaching the counter. "Hello, Teila," he greeted the Athosian. Kaspar also nodded, meeting the gaze of another man from her people, the only one present whom he knew. "Kanaan."
The brewer, standing at the next stall, returned his nod, his gaze following the events. He would have been better off paying attention to a couple of teenagers who kept glancing at one of the small barrels of beer standing behind him.
Kaspar was about to draw the brewer's attention to this but decided not to interfere for now. No one was forbidding them from looking. And the situation hadn't escalated enough for the teenagers to dare to steal.
So, Fry simply moved closer, pushing his way to the stall with grains and vegetables, near which the scandal was unfolding.
At the same time, he casually nudged one of the men waiting for a signal. The man, casting a quick glance at him, moved aside. And with a quick movement, he slid his hand under his shapeless shirt. Satisfied with the check of his concealed weapon, he silently decided not to quarrel with the "passerby."
So, he was right – the Athosians were clearly acting differently than before. He had thought Teila's people had decided to rent a trading spot in a better row… But it turned out that the usually cautious and not prone to unnecessary spending Emmagan had decided to buy or rent two at once.
Very wasteful for Athosians.
And, considering that this was already happening on the fifth trading planet, one had to give them credit – the Athosians had really spent a lot.
"Kaspar," a polite smile appeared on Teila's face. "Glad to see you."
"Likewise, Teila," he replied politely. "I see you're having some trouble here…"
"And who are you?" the man causing the scandal shrieked. "Go on your way! Don't you see we're having a trade dispute here?!"
"I don't see a dispute here," Kaspar admitted, taking one of the vegetables from the counter. A small, but ripe melon. A thin, but firm skin hid soft and juicy insides.
A perfectly good specimen. Even the "tail" had dried up and broken off, meaning the fruit was ripe and not cut prematurely. This meant there was no deception on the part of the Athosians – the vegetables had indeed ripened on time.
This was excellent news… Except it wasn't melon season on Athos right now – Fry had studied these people's produce well over the years of his work.
"Then rub your eyes," the little man snorted, pointing at the box on the counter. "These are tava beans! And they only grow on my planet! The Athosians bought them from us for generations and shouldn't have grown them! And now they are! It's an insult to my people! I demand you hand over all the sacks of beans and everything else you have in reserve! This will be fair compensation!"
"And I'm trying to prove to this kind man that he's mistaken," Teila forced a smile. "These legumes are very similar to tava, but they are not."
"Nonsense! They even have the same pods!"
Kaspar, sighing, took one of the small pods. Indeed, it looked like tava. But he doubted that Emmagan or any of her people would dare to so brazenly deceive their trading partners to their faces.
As it happened, peoples who cultivate and sell a crop that is popular in other worlds do not allow it to be planted. This would undermine their monopoly on the valuable product.
Hiding such deception would be difficult – fields cannot be hidden from curious eyes. And the Rings of the Ancients provide access to any planet. If some people suddenly start trading something they bought from their trading partners, and also forbid travel to their planet, then there's nothing to argue about.
In the ten years alone, there have been six trade wars. Over apples, melons, roots… If there's a reason, there will be those willing to fight. Mostly, these are various gangs armed with firearms. Former soldiers from planets ravaged by wraiths, deserters, simply outcasts… They don't care who they fight for – as long as they're paid. Preferably in hard currency.
"It seems so," Kaspar said with a sigh.
"I told you!" the little man exclaimed.
"Only," Fry didn't need much effort to break the pod and reveal a smooth, greenish seed. About the size of a little finger. "Aren't the seeds about twice as large as tava's?"
"It's still tava!" the troublemaker insisted.
Kaspar, deliberately slowly, drew a small knife from the sheath on his belt. The people standing around tensed, but no one reached for their weapons. In fact, that's why he wasn't acting fast enough – he didn't want a brawl to break out over a misunderstanding.
"And what are you doing?" the scandalous man inquired.
Instead of answering, Fry placed the seed against the blade and with one precise movement split the bean in half. Then, taking one half, he showed its white interior with greenish veins to the troublemaker.
"I could be mistaken, of course, but tava beans have brown seeds inside," he said, popping the other half into his mouth.
After working his teeth, he spat the pulp into his hand.
"And it tastes better," he declared. "I don't know why you decided they taste the same as your tava beans, but they don't."
"But they look like our beans!" he insisted. Kaspar smirked.
Now everything was clear.
"You just saw similar beans and decided to take the whole harvest to grow them yourselves," he said. "The beans don't taste or smell like tava."
"But they look like it…!" the troublemaker began.
"Only externally," Teila said. "So there's no need to think that we've deceived the Jenai. Athosians are fair and honest traders."
"Otherwise, I wouldn't do business with them," Fry agreed. "So, get out of here, friend," he advised the troublemaker. "And take your lackeys with you. If you continue to disrupt the fair, I'll inform the city guard. And they'll tell everyone in the nearest tavern who the Jenai really are. You've become quite brazen lately."
And quarreling with the guard, who answered to the local magistrate, was more trouble than it was worth. Anava was one of the major trading planets. Losing the right to trade there wasn't as painful for the farmers as the rumor that the Jenai had turned from honest traders into deceitful troublemakers.
At this rate, they could lose the right to trade on many planets – no ruler wants scandals at fairs. The market rows should only have disputes over prices and supply volumes, but not what was happening now.
"Are you using your authority, trader Fry?" the troublemaker sized him up from head to toe.
Known as one of the major buyers, who always had something valuable to offer for the goods he needed, Kaspar was well-regarded on some major trading planets. Local authorities liked such buyers, and therefore, listened to them.
"Yes," he replied. "Do you want me to whisper a few words in the magistrate's ear? You could make a large sum of money betting on how soon you'll be kicked off Anava. Even despite the market stalls in the front row."
The Jenai, casting a malevolent glance at him, left without saying goodbye. As if he had lost interest in what was happening.
In reality, he just wanted to save face. Well, the remainder of the authority he possessed.
"Guys," Kaspar looked at the remaining men of the troublemaker, who were disguised as onlookers. "I think it's time for you to go too. Who knows what might happen to your master while you're hanging around here."
Realizing they were exposed, the disguised bodyguards followed in the same direction as the other Jenai. For a minute or two, the other traders and buyers still watched them go, after which the fair resumed its course on that row.
"Thank you," Teila approached him, hugging him in gratitude. "I didn't know how to make them listen to reason."
"I'm a master at that," Kaspar smirked, delicately taking Teila by the elbow and leading her aside. Emmagan immediately understood that the trader intended to speak more privately.
"It's not the first time I've seen the Jenai acting more brazenly," Fry admitted. "Be careful, Teila. Something has changed lately. The galaxy is restless. The wraiths are dormant, but something strange is happening on some planets."
"For example?" the Athosian became wary.
"I've heard that the Novaians and Jenai have been clashing more with their trading partners," Fry said. "It gives the impression that the former are singing to the tune of the latter."
"I don't think it's beneficial for the Jenai to quarrel with us," the Athosian's face changed, but she tried to sound as if everything was fine. "They are simple people who pose no threat."
This was said with an intonation as if she herself didn't believe what she had said. Interesting.
Perhaps she had also noticed that these "peaceful people" had hired thugs with firearms for their security? Not that it was something rare in the galaxy, but still, not common everywhere.
"In two places, they also made claims about some agricultural structures that they allegedly stole from them," Fry added, lowering his voice.
"Ordinary trade disputes."
"Yes, but after these scandals, armed soldiers arrived on the planets of those who allegedly stole from the Jenai," Kaspar added even more quietly. "Few survived…"
Teila's face darkened.
"Were they Jenai?" she asked.
"Possibly," Fry answered evasively. "They trade enough to hire bandits. However, the survivors say that it wasn't bandits armed with firearms who raided them, but soldiers. Clothes of one type and style, similar weapons… I'm worried about you."
"Thank you for the warning, Kaspar," Teila said kindly. "But we can defend ourselves."
"Oh, really?" Fry thought. "Bows and arrows against bullets and grenades?"
Emmagan was anything but a good liar. And certainly not a fool. She spoke with confidence about her people's ability to defend themselves. This meant he was right – the Athosians were not as simple as they seemed.
"I hope so," he said. "I wouldn't want any of my friends to get hurt."
"And you wouldn't want to lose your suppliers either," Emmagan smiled without malice.
"That too," the trader agreed. "Where else can I find such ripe and juicy melons at this time of year? By the way, I don't recall you trading them at this time before."
"We've sown new fields," Emmagan replied quickly. "After the wraith attack, we needed something to keep the people busy…"
Emmagan continued to smile, but her thoughts were clearly far from telling the truth. She might be the best among her people, but she was a terrible liar.
She didn't know it, but Fry's men had already been to Athos without the local population's knowledge. And the trader knew that even in their best years, the Athosians couldn't clear more fields than their ancestors had.
Too many trees, too poor soil…
No, there was something else going on here.
"You can tell me," he said. "I've tried to get to Athos several times, but instead, I ended up on other worlds."
"No one goes to other planets just like that," the Athosian stated, clearly becoming wary. "Especially without local escort."
"I know, but when I found out you were selling more harvest, I wanted to buy more. I thought it would be beneficial for both of us to make a direct agreement, rather than paying commission on trading planets," Fry explained his motivation.
"I understand," Emmagan drawled.
"So, what happened to your gates?" Kaspar asked directly. "Are they broken?"
This was a trick question. If the Ring of the Ancients on Athos was indeed malfunctioning, how did the Athosians themselves travel through it? Not to mention regular deliveries to trading planets.
This was clearly about some kind of defense. Probably even technologies that the Athosians themselves would never have invented.
"Yes," Teila said. "After the last wraith culling, we noticed they were working unstably. So we left the planet, settling in another world. Returning to Athos is dangerous. It's possible that wraiths have settled there…"
"And for this very reason, your merchants from other planets are leaving, entering the address of Athos? Because the gates there are broken and there's a chance you won't return?" he wanted to ask the Athosian, catching her in a lie.
But that would be unproductive.
"I understand," Fry sighed, letting the Athosian know he didn't quite believe her. "Everyone has their secrets. It's a shame you don't want to share yours. Many worlds would pay you good money to protect their gates from outsiders..."
"I repeat," Emagan replied as indifferently as possible. "We did nothing to our gates."
How interestingly the words were chosen in the sentences. Tayla, in fact, didn't lie. Whatever happened to the gates of Athos, it wasn't her or her people who did it.
But who then?
A good question.
Judging by Tayla's talkativeness, the answer would have to be found independently.
"Well," Kaspar raised his voice, forcing a smile onto his face, "I think it's time to get down to business. I'd like to buy something from you..."
Returning to the counters, he glanced at Kanaan's stall. As he had suspected, neither the boys nor the barrel were there anymore.
Clearly, the protection of the Ring of the Ancients on Athos wasn't done by the Athosians themselves. Could it be the Wraiths? Or is there someone in the galaxy who surpasses them in development?
The negotiations took place within the outpost. Naturally, where our guests couldn't see anything superfluous. And no one new.
A small room near the main corridor. A table, a couple of chairs – and nothing else. According to the plan, it was a former warehouse, but in reality, a small meeting room. Since we can control the entire outpost and its systems are being restored in places by technical teams, there's no point in keeping the main gates constantly closed.
The tunnels that permeated the entire rock in the heart of the supervolcano had several exits to the surface. Near the gates, close to a large settlement of Taranian, and elsewhere. Except for the first two, the latter were blocked and their clearing was ongoing. The Taranian were unaware of them, which is useful for us. You always need a few backup exits.
The main and backup entrances, known to the Taranian, were now open and guarded by Athosian sentinels. Except for a few rooms near the entrances, the rest of the complex was blocked by internal doors. Breaking through them was impossible, as was opening them manually. And the Taranian could not bypass the blockade in secret from the Ancient duty shift at the outpost under any circumstances.
So, if the locals wanted to meet us or go somewhere, we had "guest rooms" and armed escorts prepared for them.
"Not an easy choice, former chancellor," I commented on what Leikos had told me. "To leave your home planet... And forever..."
"You left me no choice," he replied. "My supporters and I want to leave. Because you made a fool of me in the eyes of all the people of Taranis!"
"You did that to yourself," I retorted. "However, I don't intend to argue with you. If you want to go, please do. We will open a passage for you and your people to any planet where there are no Wraiths..."
"Thank you, Mikhail, for your concern," the former chancellor rose from the table and began to button up his jacket. "But we have the address of the planet we'd like to go to."
"Is that so," I grunted, looking at the current chancellor. Norana Piro, blinking a couple of times, understood what I wanted from her.
"Before you arrived, we managed to decipher a few addresses from the database," she explained. "Our diplomats met with some races on other planets. We didn't achieve much progress, but on some worlds, Chancellor Leikos and his people will be welcomed as they should be."
"Former chancellor," I corrected the current leader of the Taranian. "And what kind of planets are they, may I ask?"
"You may not," Leikos cut off. "You promised not to hinder the use of the gates. My people and I want to leave Taranis. And we are not going to answer questions. I hope you are not going to torture us?"
"Fear the Ancients, former chancellor," I waved my hand, also rising from the table. "Let's go to the control room. You'll enter the address yourself, so there are no claims against us. You can tell your people to gather at the gates. We'll open the gates in a couple of minutes."
"My advisor knows the address," the chancellor said, as expected, pointing to one of his hulking guards. "He will go with you. And I will join my people and be the first to leave the planet from which I was exiled."
"But you're leaving yourself!" Piro exclaimed indignantly.
"Only because I can't stay here," Leikos proudly raised his head. "We will build a free Taranian society in a new world! And we could have built it already if you hadn't closed our access to the gates while you were gone for so long, Mikhail!"
I completely ignored the reproach in his words.
"Do you know where the control room is?" I asked the hulking guard. He nodded affirmatively and headed towards the exit. But he stopped when Alvar blocked his path.
"Escort our friend to the dialing device," I asked the Ermen. He silently stepped aside, letting Leikos' accomplice pass. "Let him dial the address of the planet they are going to himself."
"Alright," Jensen replied imperturbably, positioning himself behind the former chancellor's bodyguard.
"Your people are waiting for you," I reminded him. "All the best, former Chancellor Leikos."
"Farewell, Mikhail," he snorted. "I hope in the future you will understand how low you have treated me. But, remember, when you ask me for help, I will be adamant."
"Can you repeat that?" I inquired, demonstratively looking around. "Because I need to write it down. I'm afraid I'll forget..."
Snorting once more, the chancellor and two other guards left the meeting room, heading for the main exit of the outpost. Norana and I followed him in silence.
Standing at the exit and watching as almost fifty healthy men from Leikos' former guard loaded themselves with numerous bags and bundles of belongings, I asked Piro:
"How many times did they try to open the gates from that side while we were gone?"
"Seventeen," she said. "Three times on the first day, twice on the second, then once a day. The blue crystals around the Ring of the Ancients lit up, as did the symbols on the inner rim. But the hyper-tunnel didn't establish."
Of course, it didn't. Chaya had spread the protection of the worlds under our control in such a way that during our absence, no other gates except those of Ermen, Athos, New Athos, and Atlantis could connect with each other.
From which it follows: whoever tried to pass to Taranis was clearly not our friend. And therefore, they were probably very surprised to find themselves on completely random planets instead of Taranis.
"Do you remember anything about the people the chancellor contacted before we came to Taranis?" I asked.
A vortex of energy erupted from the Taranian gates. Being drawn inside, it smoothed out along the event horizon, demonstrating that a stable hyper-tunnel to the destination had been established.
Well, bon voyage.
"No, Mikhail," Piro replied after thinking. It's remarkable, after dinner with Alvar, she's become calmer. "Ordinary people, like us. But they helped us with equipment, inspected the outpost and the ship a few times, but no more. The chancellor didn't trust them very much, so..."
"And that bodyguard who went to the control room, has he served the former chancellor for a long time?"
"A few months," Piro said with a wrinkled nose, giving a vague answer. "I don't know him. He seems to be from some distant settlement. But the chancellor respected him, making him deputy commander of the guard right away. Under him, the chancellor's guard learned a lot..."
"I see," I said, noticing out of the corner of my eye that the very bodyguard who went to dial the address almost ran past us towards the gates.
By this time, the first supporters of Leikos had already gone through the gates. Only a few people, and the chancellor himself, stood by the Ring of the Ancients, waiting for the last one from their group.
As soon as he joined them, they handed him a strap with a holster and a weapon, after which Leikos, looking at me with an extremely arrogant gaze, entered the gates with the "special bodyguard." The other two acted as the rear guard.
"Mikhail, the transition was successful," the radio on my belt came to life. "We are observing the last of the declared group."
"Good," I replied into the intercom. "Wait, I'll be there soon with my group."
"Received," Kirik replied. "Koshchei wants to talk to you... Says he has new terms for the deal."
"You can remind the Wraith that changing the terms is not in his interest," I said, cursing mentally.
"Of course," Kirik rejoiced. "I'll do that with great pleasure..."
The gates closed as soon as the entire group of the former chancellor of Taranis had passed through them.
"And what's next?" Norana asked, looking at me expectantly. "You understand he won't calm down, right? He'll seek revenge..."
She's not as stupid as she seems.
"Everything is under control," I reassured her. "If I'm right about who his 'bodyguard' is, then we'll never hear from former Chancellor Leikos and his people again."