"I haven't been to this world before," Teyla said at the moment the "jumper" emerged from behind the treetops and soared over a wide expanse of water.
A frame from the series.
"I doubt the Athosians carry boats or anything like that with them to other planets," Ihaar said, staring intently at the readings on the virtual screen. "We're actually over a flooded forest. The local river has overflowed its banks, and quite a while ago. And it's quite a long way to go around it, you know."
"Yes, we noticed," Alvar said, suppressing a yawn.
"I'm saying that Teyla and her people simply couldn't have reached this place to..." Ihaar fell silent, pointing to a mark that appeared on the screen. "Energy fluctuations. The onboard computer can't recognize them."
"Yes, it's noticeable," I admitted, feeling a slight tremor in the steering wheel. "I thought you would warn us in advance when to deviate from course. I did warn about the electromagnetic field on this planet."
"Yes, and I worked with the scanners so that we would detect it as early as possible," Ihaar said irritably. "Look for a landing spot, Mikhail. We're still far from the electromagnetic field, so we have a great opportunity to land, not crash like a stone into the forest."
"As you say."
Soon, a landing spot was found — a small sandy beach on the riverbank. Lowering the machine at the edge of the forest, away from the water, I took one last look at the anomaly's location data on the virtual screen.
By the time I left the ship, the rest of the group had already gathered outside, tidying up their equipment.
"I told you — we'll have acceptable protection," Ihaar glanced at the three of us checking our firearms. "High technologies will work. With interruptions, of course, but..."
"I wouldn't want my pulse rifle to misfire every other shot, or even less," I admitted, patting my energy weapon. "So there's nothing better than the simplest assault rifles and pistols."
I, Alvar, and Teyla had exactly that set. Spare magazines and "clips" in tactical backpacks were included. Along with everything necessary in case we got delayed far from the "jumper." Well, and inside the beautiful "iron bird," there were all sorts of supplies for a week of comfortable living or a long battle.
"As you wish," Ihaar shrugged, checking if his stun weapon was in place. "I'm more conservative. And your primitive firearms are nothing more than props. When I have more free time and resources, I'll start assembling pulse blasters for everyone. And your firearms can be left as souvenirs for the natives."
Yes, yes, more time and resources.
"Everyone ready?" I asked, looking around the group. Silent nods in response — that's what I needed. If only there was a guarantee that my personal shield would work in the electromagnetic field zone... "We're moving towards the source of the EMP. Keep your weapons ready, but don't fire first. Remember, these are just little children with very simple views on life."
"Indeed," Ihaar grumbled. "What could be simpler than being killed by a bow and arrows? It would be a shameful death, by the way."
"Don't make any sudden movements, and everything will be fine," I promised.
"Maybe the locals won't even find us," Alvar suggested, preparing to lead the group.
"Believe me, they will," I assured him. "Alright, let's move."
"The scope's electronics and auxiliary equipment still haven't turned on," Alvar reported as we entered the ruins.
"And the pulse rifle isn't working," I confirmed, looking at the high-tech weapon. "Ihaar, do you remember you said everything would work like clockwork?"
"I didn't say that," the Dorandan said irritably, fiddling with his scanner. "I don't understand what's happening here, but the protection against electromagnetic radiation I developed didn't help."
"We noticed," Teyla reported, moving as the rearguard.
"However," the Ermen said, "it turns out that primitive mechanical weapons are not so primitive, are they, Ihaar?"
"In the current circumstances," the Ancient retorted, clearly depressed by his helplessness.
"Ruins ahead!" Emagan announced.
"Yes, we've already noticed," Alvar and I had already reached the edge of the ruined structures. "The capital of Epheon."
The capital of Epheon.
"It doesn't look much like an advanced settlement," Alvar noted, approaching the nearest stone block. "Simple materials, stones stacked on top of each other. I wouldn't say it's the level of younger races."
"This city could have been built on the ruins of an old one," Ihaar suggested, looking around. "It will take a lot of time to find anything here. Mikhail, are you sure the EMP source is here?"
"As far as I remember, it's in the ruins," I said. "The device should be in the ruins hidden by vegetation and trees."
The other members of the squad looked around, peering at the overgrown ruins.
"This won't be quick," Ihaar groaned with pain in his heart. "And I really hope we won't have to dig."
"We shouldn't," I said, looking at the barely perceptible movement in the bushes. "Guys... take your fingers off the triggers."
"Why?" Ihaar asked. "Although, why am I asking? I don't have anything that can shoot anyway..."
The last phrase seemed to serve as a trigger, and people in rags appeared from the bushes onto the small clearing where we were. Their faces, smeared with colored mud, expressed determination and a degree of confusion. But this did not affect the fact that they held bows with arrows pointed at us.
"Ah, here are the locals," Alvar muttered.
"They're not friendly," Teyla agreed, showing her empty hands. "We won't harm you!"
"Mikhail, they're children!" Ihaar muttered, embarrassed. "I thought you were joking..."
"Not at all," I admitted, following Teyla's example. "Guys, I see you're surprised that we're adults."
"Yes," one of them said. The cracking, adolescent bass of the largest and tallest of a dozen boys, wrapped in rags and hides, about fifteen years old, identified him as the leader. "This is very strange for our parts! Who are you?"
"We'll tell you everything," I promised. "Won't you take us to your elders?"
The children, clearly more surprised than before, exchanged glances. Then they looked at their "commander."
He, without lowering his weapon, shifted from foot to foot, trying to hide his surprise. Then, proudly lifting his head, he said:
"Follow me. And no jokes! Otherwise, we'll kill you!"
"We've come to this," Alvar grumbled. "Now we're being threatened by kids!"
As the story neared its end, I felt my throat dry.
"Don't mind if I wet my throat?" I asked the young man whose face was smeared with white ritualistic patterns.
"Yes, of course," Keras's gaze was lost. He looked around, trying to find support from his tribesmen present nearby. But most of them were in the same state as he was.
The young man waited until I finished drinking, then asked:
"You mean to say that our religion is nothing more than someone's joke?"
"What do you think yourself?" Alvar swayed from side to side, stretching his legs, stiff from being in the "lotus position." "You kill yourselves so that the wraiths don't come."
"But they don't come," the young man said. "Not for a very long time!"
"Because you are protected by a special device that disables their technology," I explained. "Actually, any sufficiently advanced technology, to be precise."
Despite the fact that Keras sat before us in ritualistic paint, which he was obliged to wear due to his impending voluntary suicide, I couldn't help but notice one detail.
Keras.
I understand that in the filming of large-scale series, the same actors appear from time to time. And in different roles.
But to see this in reality... to put it mildly, unusual.
The fact is that in the Milky Way, in the series, there was exactly the same guy. In appearance, I mean. And he served in one of the reconnaissance groups of the Earthlings. True, if my memory serves me right, he was supposed to die according to the chronology of events.
Whether he is alive now among the Earthlings, I don't know. And it doesn't matter.
But the fact that people with the same appearance appeared in different series of the universe... I repeat, it's understandable in series. But in reality...
What is the probability that in different galaxies, millions of factors will align identically, and people will appear with the same set of genes, forming two identical human forms? Well, maybe these people differ from each other in some details, but in general...
And then I threw these thoughts out of my head. Firstly, I didn't personally see that very soldier from Earth who looked like Keras. Maybe he doesn't look alike? And, secondly, if he does look alike, then... No, seriously! The scale of entire galaxies! Millions of years of evolution and mutations! Anything could have happened here!
Look, even on Earth, people looked alike. And they weren't twins or relatives at all!
Or, for example, in the same Milky Way, as part of a large criminal organization, there was a bandit who looked like Kirik in the series, like two drops of water. The situation is exactly the same... And there can be any number of such examples.
Jokes of genetics...
"This must be some kind of joke..." Keras shook his head. "You appear on the day of my ritual, just a couple of hours before it, and say such things... How can I believe you?"
"I suggest we return to the ruins of the city, and we'll demonstrate something," I offered. "We'll find the device that blocks technology, show that when it's on, technology doesn't work. And vice versa..."
"You don't understand," the young man said. "For five hundred years, our faith has protected us! Everyone who reached twenty-five years of age sacrificed themselves. And as a result, the wraiths didn't come..."
"They did," I corrected. "When we entered your wonderful city in the trees, we saw an altar with the remains of wraiths."
This is what I'm talking about.
"Yes," Keras confirmed. "A long time ago, their flying boat fell from the sky. We finished off the survivors so they wouldn't call others."
"And I like it here," Alvar suddenly said. "The motto of these guys: 'In any unclear situation, finish off the survivors!'"
"If we die at the hands of the wraiths, we won't be able to move to another, better world," Keras shed light on one of the postulates of his religion. "Everyone on our planet knows this. The wraiths have also learned this lesson. And now their plans are not destined to come true."
"Their plans?" Alvar asked again.
"My people used to raise livestock," Keras explained. "And the wraiths, when they came here, raised us. But as their livestock."
"They do this all over the galaxy, on other worlds," the Athosian explained. "On thousands of worlds."
"Thousands of worlds," Keras said with delight. "I... None of my people have ever gone far from their own settlement, let alone the Wraith Circle. You came through it, didn't you?"
"And you call that round thing through which the wraiths come the Wraith Circle?" I clarified.
"Yes," Keras said. "Friends don't come through it. Only wraiths."
"Everything happens for the first time," I said. "For example, I've never had a conversation with a twenty-five-year-old guy who is supposed to kill himself in a couple of hours, hoping it will save his people."
"But it has saved them for hundreds of years!" the young man said. "It will save them now!"
"Keras," another young man, not much younger than the "elder," approached him. "They are not from here. We need to send them back through the Wraith Circle before they come."
"So," I clapped my hands on my legs. "Stop it, brothers. I understand you haven't had an easy life. For five hundred years, you've sacrificed each other so as not to become prey for the wraiths. And Keras is about to do the same. This is your religion, and I'm not going to refute it without evidence. I have a proposal."
"You'll leave and never come back?" the second young man asked. It seemed he was supposed to be the next "elder" after Keras died. But he's not pushing his "senior comrade" to suicide because he craves his place, but because he's afraid that breaking the ritual, which has been in place for five hundred years, will lead to the wraiths coming and destroying everyone. And death at the hands of the wraiths, as we've already heard, is an obstacle to the afterlife.
"You don't trust us, and you think we're deceiving you," I said. "So why don't we all go to the ruins and inspect them? As soon as we find the equipment I told you about there, the very thing that actually protects you, we'll show you what's really happening."
"You're just wasting our time," the future elder grimaced. It seems he even introduced himself, but I didn't remember his name. Aries, I think. "Keras, we need to get back to the ritual!"
"Aries!" the "elder" raised his hand, calling for silence. "We still have time before the sacrifice. If these people are misleading us, we'll have a chance to verify it, escort them out, and finish what we started. And as long as I'm alive, you will do my will."
"Yes, Keras," Aries gritted out.
"Did you reach an agreement?" Teyla asked after Alvar and I descended the rope ladder back to the ground.
"In a way," I said. "We're going to the ruins, they've given us an hour and a half to convince them that we're not deceivers."
"And if we don't make it?" Emagan asked quietly.
I stepped aside slightly, making room for others descending.
"We have no choice," I said. "If we don't succeed this time, we won't be able to return here. Without a fight, I mean."
The Athosian looked around. Dozens of children, boys and girls of various ages, hastily hid their eyes. We were something of a curiosity to them. Seasoned old men, after all. Even the slightest age differences seem significant against the backdrop of these children.
"You wanted to show me something," Keras said, reaching the ground. "In our altar."
"Exactly," I looked at the dwellings located above our heads. "You know, as a child, I would have killed for a treehouse like this."
Keras's people's dwellings.
"These are not the best houses, believe me," Keras said, smiling good-naturedly. "In other villages, the houses are much bigger."
"In other villages?" Teyla asked as we approached the remains of the wraiths. "Do you have many of them?"
"About a dozen," Keras explained. "Some smaller, some larger than our settlement."
"And everywhere they sacrifice themselves so that the wraiths don't come?" I asked. Emagan, hearing a positive answer, turned pale.
"Keras," Aries, who was always around, appeared nearby. "You want to let strangers near the altar?"
"They promised to show us something important," the latter replied, watching as I beckoned Ihaar with a gesture. The engineer had been sitting with a group of children all this time, engaged in adult affairs beyond their age. Seeing six- or seven-year-olds making arrowheads out of stones... It's something. The galaxy is too cruel to small people.
"And what if they deceive us?" Aries persisted.
"Then we'll see," Keras assured him, watching Ihaar approach us.
"Listen," the engineer addressed the nearest boy following him. "Just because I can't assemble your primitive projectile weapon from a piece of wood and animal sinews doesn't mean I know nothing about ballistics. Believe me, this," he shook a slightly curved stick in front of him, "is a terrible arrow. It won't fly straight! But if you want to shoot from around a corner... You still won't succeed!"
"Really?" the little boy squeaked. "And my brother says this is a good future arrow!"
"And how old is your brother?"
"Ten. He's a good hunter!"
"And I'm almost thirty," Ihaar argued. "So I'm three times better a hunter than he is. Believe me!"
"But you can't make a bow!"
"But I can build an atomic bomb and blow up this whole forest!" the engineer said irritably.
"And what is an atomic bomb?" another boy asked. "Is it stronger than a bow and arrow?"
"What?" Ihaar grimaced. "Yes, it's stronger than anything you can imagine for the next million years."
"Really?" all the boys in the vicinity chorused.
"Of course!" Ihaar said confidently. Keras cast an attentive glance at me. I could barely restrain myself from laughing at the comicality of the situation. "In short, you need to find some radioactive ore. Naquadah will do. It can be identified..."
"Ihaar!" But now it was no longer funny. "Are you seriously going to teach children how to make a nuclear bomb?"
"What's so special about that?" he wondered. "I made one a week after initiation. One press of a button, and an asteroid the size of Atlantis simply evaporated! These are perfectly normal childhood games!"
"Childhood games with a nuclear bomb?" Alvar clarified.
"Well, yes," Ihaar nodded. "Every boy in his life should blow up an asteroid at least once. Or build a nuclear reactor. At the very least, get high-temperature plasma. These are ordinary school projects!"
I imagined for a moment Petrovič explaining to fifth-graders in a labor lesson how to properly entertain the residents of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. No, to hell with such labor lessons!
"Forget it," I ordered. "You have work to do."
"So what about the nuclear bomb?" one of the boys tugged Ihaar's pant leg. "Do you need a lot of branches to make it?"
"It's better to make bows and arrows!" the first boy declared. "Any kid can do that. And this old man can't! But my brother can! My brother is smarter!"
"Ask your brother what the humidity and density of the atmosphere are on your planet, and when he starts picking his nose, not knowing the answer, come back to me," Ihaar said angrily.
"Why?" the boy didn't understand the passage.
Ihaar was about to say something sharp, but he heard my delicate cough, waved his hand. Taking a small oblong object from his pouch, he gave it into the hands of the younger brother of the best bow maker in this village.
"Look," he crouched down, pointing to a small button on the device. "You need to press this thing. But first, bring it with this part," he pointed to a small electrode at the end of the device, "to dry leaves or something similar that ignites easily. Just don't point it at yourself. Or at anyone else."
"And then what?" the boy asked, taking the gift and immediately checking it. Of course, nothing happened.
"It will ignite," Ihaar said. "And very well. And you won't have to constantly rub sticks against each other..."
"Great!" the boy's eyes lit up. "There's a pit with dry leaves under the main tree! I'll go light it!"
"Hold on, kid!" I caught the little one by the scruff of his neck and delicately took away the electric discharge lighter, looking reproachfully at Ihaar. "Have you lost your mind? He'll set the forest on fire!"
"But nothing works here anyway," the engineer spread his hands. "So nothing..."
"Didn't you want to find and disable what supposedly prevents technology from working in our villages?" Keras asked insinuatingly.
Ihaar turned pale, looked guiltily at the boy who had been deprived of his gift, then at me.
"Oops," he said.
"Get to work," I growled, pointing to the wraith corpses on the altar. "Their armor must have self-destruct systems and trackers. We need to disable them so they don't activate as soon as we disable the EMP field."
"Exactly!" the engineer nodded and rushed to the altar. "Here, the first one has a tracker on his arm!"
"And what is that?" Keras became interested, seeing Alvar, at Ihaar's request, pull off a piece of wraith armor with a small cylindrical thickening behind the wrist from the skeletal forearm of a wraith.
"A tracking device," Alvar explained, going into detail.
"Hey, grown-up," I felt a tug on my sleeve. "You took my gift. So now you owe me two!"
Looking into the eyes of the little extortionist, I took a couple of fruit bars out of my pouch. The kitchen appliance processed fruits into a paste, after which we fiddled a bit with Athosian spices. And we got something resembling muesli. Well, it was easier for us to make parchment for packaging.
"And what is this?" he asked.
"Let me show you," I offered, unfolding the "snack" and breaking off a small piece. Putting it in my mouth, I began to chew. "See? This is food. Delicious, nutritious, and safe. Try it. Believe me, at your age, it's better to eat vitamins than to play with a lighter."