A couple of refreshing sips, a bit of medical intervention, and sound thoughts appear in my head:
"And what does that change?" I asked, more to myself than to Chaya. "As if I didn't understand that after regaining consciousness on a machine that produces nanites and humanoid replicators, I was created the same way? I wasn't born to a mother and father in this universe."
Chaya, apparently, even exhaled.
"Understanding and accepting are different things," she said. "It's good that you took it so easily."
"This isn't my first life," I grinned. "I can afford to treat unnatural things with philosophical phlegmatism."
"That's good," Chaya said. "However... I thought you'd be interested in why the Lantians were creating bodies for themselves that were more developed than their own."
"And how many did they create?" I asked.
"Hundreds," Chaya said, lowering her voice. "If I understood the personality data correctly... These were by no means ordinary sentient beings. Janus, Melia, Ganos Lal..."
"Moros?" I suggested.
"I didn't find his data in the device," Chaya admitted. "However... This information could have been erased. Or not entered into the laboratory journal."
"It's strange that they entered it at all," I admitted.
"It was hidden in subprograms," Chaya said. "If you don't look for it specifically, having your data for comparison, you won't find it."
"Curiouser and curiouser," I declared. "And what does this give us? That the Lantians wanted more 'crafty' bodies?"
"Some of them," Chaya confirmed. "Given the importance of this research, Moros must have authorized it. And here, it seems, he wasn't aware of it."
"I don't think he would have missed the energy leak from the MNT," I chuckled. "Creating so many bodies should have drained a lot of resources."
"It should have," Chaya confirmed. "And for some reason, it wasn't detected by the monitoring services."
"Smells like detective intrigue in the best traditions of conspiracy theory," I summarized, feeling tired. Not physically – morally. I'm frankly starting to get annoyed by the fact that it seems like a cozy universe with hardly any secrets... But in reality, every other word here can hide some kind of secret. However... What else can you expect from a race that leaves a message for its descendants like – we are so good, we came to a dead galaxy, populated it, but on one planet we encountered an enemy that was in hibernation? Although in reality, it turns out that they themselves contributed to the appearance of this very enemy. — And, frankly, I don't care. Unless, of course, it leads us to the MNT, an arsenal of drones, a warehouse with spare parts, or something similar."
"Who knows," Chaya smiled mysteriously. "What if it does?"
I looked at the crystal clear water in my glass. Thought. Took a sip. Refreshing. Thought again.
"What's more dangerous – a beautiful but constantly baring its teeth little animal, or a cute one that can devour you in one sitting?" I asked.
"A philosophical debate?" Chaya clarified.
"A comparison between Trebal and you," I didn't hide. "You clearly didn't start all this for no reason. You caught up with me at the cockpit, took advantage of my stupor, brought me to the laboratory, told me about nanite body production... And the intrigue, as if, the revelation of this secret will lead us to something interesting. Maybe stop testing my intelligence? We seem to be fighting in the same direction. So why create intrigues for each other?"
"Cute, but capable of devouring in one sitting," Chaya repeated, as if tasting the words. "An interesting comparison... It seems insulting, but... I like it."
She smiled.
"Chaya-a," I stretched out. "Don't test my patience. It makes for bad rubber."
"It seemed to me that you enjoy uncovering secrets," she said, resting her elbow on the back of the sofa, sitting half-sideways, and propping her head on her hand. "The spirit of research and all that."
I need to learn to throw chairs.
"And closer to the point?" I asked.
"Remember I told you about the weapon that the Epheons, Fren's people, wanted to create?" Chaya asked.
"I remember," I nodded. "They built and built and didn't build. How is this related to our affairs? Nanites, treacherous Lantians, and super-bodies?"
"Actually, I'm still piecing the mosaic together, but... The Epheons believed they could create something that would render their enemies' technologies useless," Chaya said. "Something that would turn them off and prevent the enemy's weapons and technologies from harming them... Does that sound familiar?"
I honestly rummaged through my memory.
"Not really," my admission caused a heavy sigh from the Proculucian. "I can't remember and know everything."
"You can, if you want to," Chaya assured me. "I saw the data from your scan after the stroke. You managed to reach unprecedented peaks of brain activity, even for Lantians. And that doesn't happen just like that. You can't use your body's capabilities more than evolution has developed them."
"I know a guy who could charge water through the TV, and everyone else couldn't," I recalled the 'wild nineties'. "However, there's an opinion that he was a big liar."
"There are limits to the natural development of the body," Chaya said. "The more developed the organism, the more time it takes for evolution. Millions of years may pass before certain parts of the brain cease to be just a set of convolutions and neurons and become engaged."
"Unless you have a miracle vaccine from the Lantians that will instantly make you closer to them," I yawned. It was time to get used to the fact that Chaya, like all geniuses, thinks in slightly different categories. And promotes several topics for conversation at once. For example, now she's continuing the topic of developed Lantian bodies. And I'm sure she hasn't forgotten about the weapon that disables other weapons. — But even that doesn't make you a super genius."
"True, because it depends on the initial development of the organism," Chaya said. "And here's the question. If such genetic therapy could, say, develop a carrier of Ancient genes by several orders of magnitude, then why did they, possessing it, use nanites to create new, more developed bodies? Why not directed mutations or accelerated evolution?"
"The topic about the weapon interests me more," I admitted.
"Think, Misha, think," Chaya almost pleaded. "Between the two of us, you have the more developed brain. And due to hindsight, as well as a broader outlook in the realm of fantasy, it's easier for you to find the answer than for me. Unfortunately, I am limited by the extent of my development and knowledge, the tunnel vision of technical and scientific development. But we are clearly dealing with something that should have gone a different way, not the Lantian way. But why..."
Why, why. When you mature and reach a certain ceiling, you can't jump higher than your head and...
I opened my mouth to say this, then closed it. I needed to think about what had come to my mind.
"It seems you have some ideas," Chaya said.
"Genetic therapy is two-phase, right?" I clarified. And, without waiting for an answer, said:
"Yes, it is. First, the Ancient gene is introduced, and only then the evolutionary cocktail that makes the race better by an order or two. And only after that did the Lantians share their technologies. But we know that for some races, the gene was so weak that they couldn't even pilot a 'jumper'. There are people in the 'Aurora' crew who don't have the gene at all – it degenerated after a few generations. So why give it if you can just develop the race and pass on the knowledge, let them build the same technologies, but without using the gene?"
Chaya furrowed her brow.
"And how will they then contact the Ancients' technology?" she asked. "After all, the key technologies were Lantian, and there was a genetic lock..."
"Let's say there's a race of a million people. Are they all so advanced that no one would think of using technology to stage a coup or build a superweapon to conquer the galaxy?" I asked.
"Unlikely," Chaya said after a moment's thought. "After all, the Lantians didn't transfer advanced technologies to younger races. Only generally accessible ones and..."
"Exactly," I snapped my fingers. "The natives won't be able to drive out the colonizers if the former have flintlock pistols and the latter have machine guns."
Chaya closed her eyes for a couple of seconds.
"The colonists limit the development of the natives by giving them not the most effective technology," she muttered, her eyes wide open. "Then the question arises: why are natives needed at all if you are afraid of them?"
"And why are worlds colonized?" I clarified. "Resources, Chaya. — Natural wealth, human resources. There weren't that many Lantians, and they had advanced technologies. They chose races that wouldn't deify them, but would understand how cool and advanced their benefactors were. Genetic therapy is primarily needed so that the natives can work and do all the dirty work. To manufacture simple technology, for example. Or to provide an influx of intellectual capital, developing something new based on the Ancients' technologies."
"And this new thing is quite easy to integrate into the Lantians' scientific sphere, because it is built on their principles, on their technologies and under their actual observation," Chaya gasped. "Genetic therapy ensured that the younger races would produce technology compatible with theirs!"
"And here I have an addition," I said. "You can produce the necessary technology without the Ancient gene. After all, some installations are quite simple to turn on. But... What will happen to the genetics of a small population without an influx of fresh gene pool?"
"Gradual degeneration," Chaya blurted out. "It was similar on Proculus when there was a monarchy. Consanguineous marriages aggravated the genes of the ruling dynasty, and over time each generation became uglier, stupider..."
"And now, imagine that your technologies are tied to genetics," I continued. "And the worse the blood, the weaker the Ancient gene, the less you can do. By choosing partners from your acquaintances, you only worsen the situation... But if you have alternatives..."
Chaya turned pale, which is not so easy for tanned skin.
"In the form of a less developed, but genetically improved set of younger races," she said.
"Then crossbreeding will ensure genetic diversity," I concluded. "Yes, genetics are unpredictable, but... If you live for hundreds of years, then... Why not?"
"Both slaves and incubators," Chaya clutched her head. "I... I would never have thought of that!"
"Uh-huh," I triumphantly raised my glass of water. "It turns out that subhumans are needed by higher races not only as servants. Galactic Nazism, eugenics, and hypocrisy all in one bottle!"
"Others lie," Chaya recalled one of the theses. "That's what this phrase meant..."
"Yes, it can mean anything," I said. "Like the others. You can't spit anywhere without hitting secrets. Moreover, it seems I know why the Lantians needed more modern bodies. More developed, I mean."
"Well?" Chaya asked cautiously.
"It's all the same," I said. "Limits of development. You yourself said that evolution from one stage to another can take millions of years naturally. When we flew to Proculus to feed Koschei, Alvar casually mentioned that the Ancients, fleeing the Milky Way, seemed to have gotten dumber. As if they had started everything over, regressing in development."
"If a plague in Avalon destroyed the flower of their nation, scientists and figures, if only a handful of mediocrities survived, then they had to re-evaluate a lot," Chaya was confused. "Even knowing the notes, it's impossible to play the same brilliant piece on par with a virtuoso if you've only just started studying music."
"True," I agreed. "And now, let's remember that the Asuras fled the Milky Way along with the Lantians. And they were technically well-developed. So much so that they could produce very, very rare, dangerous technologies. Moreover, thanks to me, we can say for sure that the replicators developed on Asuras completely copied ships, city-ships, designs, weapons, ZPMs, and who knows what else. If the task is to keep the natives under control and use them, then you hardly give them so much."
"And even less so give them the latest technologies, like nanites," Chaya concluded.
"Especially if the natives can possess technology and knowledge that will allow them to rewrite the basic code and the prohibition on attacking the creators," I concluded.
The girl looked me in the eyes for a long time. It was clear that she had some thoughts, but either they hadn't formed yet, or she was simply afraid to say them out loud.
As was I, for that matter.
Tribune Titus preferred to die than return to life with the knowledge that the Ancients, like the Orai, draw strength from those who worship them. Not religiously, of course, but the mention is enough. The form doesn't matter, the intentions do.
It's almost a religion.
I remembered the words of an acquaintance: "A prayer is not a demand, but an example of how to address God. You don't always have to read it word for word; God will hear even if you address him without knowing the prayer. The important thing is to address him."
Yes, it's an earthly religion. And yes, I might have misunderstood or remembered something incorrectly. But it's too similar to what Titus said: it doesn't matter how you address the Ascended: Ancients, Ancestors, Creators, Alterans, Lantians, and so on. The form of address doesn't matter — whether you remember them purposefully or mention them in passing. The main thing is to talk about them.
And then the energy from conditional reverence will go from the physical being to the Ascended. The Orai used long prayers for this, while the Ancients... managed with much less. But it happened more often, in passing... How many times did Chaya and I mention the Ancients during this conversation? Let's assume that one mention gives a conditional unit of energy... But we mention them almost constantly. Even when the hypothetical Tayla talks about the current inhabitants of Atlantis, calling them Ancestors or Ancients, she generates a conditional unit of faith energy. Which only specific Ascended, the Ancients, can perceive.
Damn zoo...
But the worst thing about all this is something else.
All this Nazi eugenics, nanomachines, their transfer to the Asuras, who then turned out to be destroyed, although they were not inferior to the Lantians in development, the return of the nanite replicator project to Atlantis, the creation of advanced human bodies...
And at the same time, the limits of evolutionary development... This reminds me of the experiments of a certain villain from the Milky Way galaxy, who was creating a human as close as possible to Ascension, so that he could embody his consciousness. And, to become more than just a human, to develop psychic abilities, like telekinesis, telepathy, and so on, which a person gains by approaching Ascension, he had to undergo special evolutionary processing. Step by step.
Millions of years of evolution flashed by at the press of a button. And without such a next stage of development, it will not come. And, as far as I remember, to Ascend, you either need to be "pulled up" there when you are already close to such a state yourself, or develop yourself so much that your brain evolves to the point where superpowers open up on their own...
Only that guy, the villain named Anubis, couldn't "be pulled up" with someone else's help. He was too evil a creature, who managed to Ascend at someone else's expense, but was stopped halfway by the Ascended. Because scumbags among the Ascended have no place. Why? Because the Ascended scumbags said so.
The more I learn about the Ancients, the more I begin to understand that Ascension is by no means nirvana, not merits for hard work in physical life. Rather, it is an elite club of bastards. There is no place for overly kind or overly evil guys among them.
But... What if the Lantians didn't want to wait millions of years until they reached Ascension themselves? What if they found a way to accelerate their evolution by simply creating new bodies, more developed than their current ones? And what if this method was discovered not by them, but by the Asuras, who were experimenting with nanomachines? Discovered it and decided to screw over their fellow fugitives from the Milky Way?
Do those who, presumably, know that people become mere batteries upon Ascension forgive betrayal? And what's best to leave behind as many people as possible who will mention you in vain? And the more developed they are, the more often they will do it... After all, the more developed they are, the more of your technology they have.
For example, the stargates are always nearby and in sight. And who built them? The Ancients. Or the Ancestors. Let's say you want to send someone to another planet. Where should he go? "Go to the Ancestors' ring." Or: "Wait for our friends at the Ancestors' ring." Or "The settlement is a thousand steps from the Ancestors' ring..."
Mentions at every step. Energy at every step. And the fewer those who consume it, the more energy they have. What will be important in a war of annihilation: a conditional million soldiers with rifles, or a dozen guys who can drop nuclear warheads on the enemy's head with the power of thought?
That's why there aren't that many Ascended. And why no one will share energy among many.
I recall that not all Ancients managed to Ascend. But even those who did manage to Ascend were enough to hide the Milky Way and Pegasus from the gaze of numerous Orai... It's not the number of participants that matters, but the volume of energy...
So, I'm already starting to repeat myself. And Chaya said that I have a more developed brain than she does, and she herself would never figure it out due to knowledge limitations...
I broke out in a cold sweat.
What if the genetic implant is not just for reproduction, but also to make younger races think only in a certain direction? After all, there are medicines on Earth that allow a person to be "programmed." And not only medicines, but also NLP, the notorious "25th frame," hypnosis, in the end...
"You know," I said as indifferently as possible, "we don't have enough data to ask questions and draw conclusions from insufficient facts. Such reflections can lead to the Dark Side..."
Or to the last combat sortie with all supporters.
The fact that thunder and lightning haven't struck us yet doesn't mean there won't be problems in principle. Knowing the Ascended, they are unlikely to intervene directly unless it threatens them directly. But that doesn't mean they won't pull some other dirty trick through roundabout ways.
And the wraiths above our heads will be the least of our problems.
"True," Chaya agreed reluctantly. I hope she realized that I wasn't going crazy, but walking on very thin ice. "Returning to the topic of Epheons' weapons. You said two things that led me to one thought about their connection."
"For example?" I asked with interest.
"The energy depletion that would be required for this evolution project and the Epheon weapon that works by disabling other technologies. After all, the latter would require large energy reserves..."
"Suppose, and?"
"What if the ZPM was used for the project, which was supposed to be transferred to the Epheons?" she asked. "Or to someone else?"
"That would be a big setup," I thought. "You're sitting there, expecting your weapon to protect you, and then it turns off..."
"Or, perhaps, it only works within a limited radius," Chaya said meaningfully.
Something familiar stirred in my memory.
Limited radius.
Almost discharged ZPM.
Technology that disables other technologies.
"Ah, you know," I sighed. "I'm not surprised by anything anymore. Do you have the address of the Epheon gate?"
"I'll check the address database," Chaya said, getting up from the sofa. "I think we'll find what we're looking for. They didn't like to spread out much. So, if there was a testing ground, it was definitely not on a remote planet. Either on Epheon, or on one of the worlds they visited. Fren definitely knows them all."
"It smells like a new mission," I said with a strained smile.
"And trouble."
But that was me adding it mentally.
Even in the highest planes of existence, when the body and consciousness become pure energy, it is quite difficult to abandon familiar images.
Therefore, no one was surprised for a long time by the fact that they saw around them a distorted copy of Atlantis, illuminated by bright light shining through stained-glass windows. And even less so were they surprised that the Leader could easily be found in a copy of the Council Hall.
Melia entered without any knocking.
Sounds are not particularly needed here.
The Leader sat at the head of the table, looking straight ahead.
Despite the omniscience available to him, it was quite difficult, or rather impossible, to understand what he was thinking, or what any of the Ascended were thinking.
"I think you're already aware."
She wasn't asking; she was stating.
"As is everyone," his voice was calm, measured. Over the millennia, the maniacally attractive note that infected everyone around with a storm of activity had disappeared from it.
"We should intervene," Melia took an empty seat at the edge of the table.
"No need."
"Oh, really?" her thin eyebrow shot up. "And I thought these two were saying very dangerous things."
"They are just words."
"Dangerous words lead to alarming actions."
The Leader looked at her.
"They are not the first, nor the last, to walk around the truth. We managed before, we will manage now. Direct intervention is unacceptable."
"I'm talking about an unambiguous hint, a warning," Melia said. "His actions are contrary to what he promised us. No movement towards the Milky Way."
"I know."
"He has no intention of fulfilling his promise!"
"And we didn't intend to fulfill ours," the Leader shrugged indifferently. "I think everything is balanced."
"We must act!" Melia insisted. "They have Atlantis in their hands!"
"The capabilities of which they are unable to fully utilize."
"They think too correctly!"
"The easier it is. Let them think they've found the truth we're afraid of," said the Leader.
"You don't care what happens?" Melia exclaimed in horror. "Something threatens us!"
"Something in the Milky Way does not spread," he reminded her. "Its expansion capabilities are exhausted. Probably energy problems. So the situation is stabilized. We can deal with more important things."
"Is a destabilizing factor in our city not an important enough thing for you?"
A smile played on the Leader's face.
"Let the boy play detective," he said permissively. "Let him uncover a couple of old secrets. Convince himself that he is better than us. Let him make a mistake and play into our hands."
Melia was silent for some... some time. The latter had no criteria for the Ascended that were the same as for mortals.
"You are manipulating him," she understood. "Leading him to specific actions."
"And he thinks he figured it all out himself," the Leader nodded. "Something turned out to be not as dangerous as General Hippaphoralkus thought. So, we can pretend that it doesn't interest us at all. Like Mikhail with his pack of aborigines from Dorandan. Let them collect crumbs, do all the dirty work, and think they're doing it of their own free will. When the time comes, it still won't help them."
"If you say so," Melia rose from the table. "Then I see no reason for objection. However, we should calm Ganos. She is furious."
"And all because of that trifle?" the Leader wondered.
"It's important to her," Melia noted.
"Really, she's overthinking it," the Leader's face showed a smile for the first time. "However," he became serious. "You can remind her that she can always regain her physical body and solve all her problems personally. And then, Ascend again. If she can do it herself. No one will help her — it's no longer in favor in our community."
"I'll pass it on," Melia assured him. "It will calm her down for a while."
"If she doesn't stop," the Leader's voice held a threat, "then I'll deal with her myself. Regardless of anything. And she won't like the consequences."
"Should I pass that on to her too?"
"First and foremost."
"I will," Melia promised.