"Do you realize how ridiculous this looks?" Alvar asked me in a tone as if he were asking about something simple.
For example, why the side of the world where the star of the Lantian system rises is called east, and the opposite side – west.
"I don't think so," I parried, watching Ihaar and a couple of other technicians digging next to a Wraith 'arrow.'
"It actually looks ridiculous," Kirik, who was nearby, supported his comrade in "fugitive" past. "I'm not saying the Ancients are already whispering about it, but… No, seriously, Misha, what's wrong with you?"
"I'm from another universe. Does that explanation fit?"
"And in your universe, do all adult men run from two beauties who are practically writing on posters that they like you?" Alvar asked. "Or are these some kind of marriage rituals of your people?"
They don't understand.
"Alright, let me explain it more simply," I suggested. "Alvar, did you have a wife?"
"Yes."
"Kirik?"
"Until I was taken away," he confirmed. "But you know yourself – my world is destroyed, we were there. And I found no trace of my chosen one. She was either killed or the Wraiths took her. And she's already dead."
He said the last words with a touch of sadness in his voice.
"And I have a wife," I said. "In another universe. Alive and well. And waiting for me."
"Did you come up with that yourself, or did someone suggest this foolishness?" Alvar inquired.
"It's my creed, which helps me push through all the anarchy and ugliness I've gotten myself into."
"Or perhaps it's self-deception that you're clinging to," Kirik sighed. "I know that feeling... I still can't get used to the fact that Selise went from a little girl to a young woman."
"And smarter than you, isn't she?" Alvar chuckled.
"If I were to feel insecure because someone around me is smarter than me, I probably would have shot myself as soon as I arrived on Atlantis," Kirik admitted. "So I'm calm here. I wanted a better future for her. Not exactly like this, but... She's not bothered by it. She's genuinely happy that she's grown up and become smart. After all, she's happy that she's saving lives. That's worth a lot."
"In other words, if she's happy, then you're happy too?" the Ermen asked.
"Of course," Kirik agreed.
"Misha," Jensen addressed me. "Answer a simple question... You agreed to a deal with an Ascended. And you surely understood that you could be sent anywhere. I doubt that bothered you."
"Let's skip the pleasantries," I winced. Actually, Alvar was right. At the moment I made the deal with General Hippaphoralkus, I absolutely didn't care about myself. "I was dead, damn it. But I could save Marina with my life, so it was a perfectly reasonable exchange."
"Then I don't understand at all," Alvar sighed. "You're here, and in your universe, clearly no one took care to ensure that a copy of you or something similar was near your wife. She surely thinks you're dead."
"And you're unlikely to ever return to your universe," Kirik chimed in. "This is your home now."
"There are technologies in the Milky Way that allow for that," I said. I hadn't told anyone about the ones in Pegasus. And... if you think about it, it's still about four years until the 'Daedalus' appears, which can travel between universes.
True... It will appear over the planet that became Atlantis's new home after leaving Lantea. The chances of meeting are very slim, but they do exist! Not to mention that Tribune Titus directly said that the Ancients had technology to "peek" into other universes.
So there's still a chance to return to my home universe.
"And what's next?" Alvar asked. "As soon as there's a chance, you'll run back there? Abandon us and the city, where half of everything won't work without you?"
"I'll go get my wife, take her, and come back," I said.
"And does she even want that?" Kirik asked. "To live in constant danger that some Ancient technology in a city thousands of years old will break, and we'll all drown, suffocate, turn into vapor, or something else along those lines."
"It's not even about that," Alvar said. "You yourself said that you died in your universe. It's possible she buried you. I'll skip the fact that you yourself don't look like you did in your past life – that's true. I got the appearance of one of the Lantians. Some minor scientist from the few hundred who received enhanced bodies. – And what is she supposed to think? You show up to her, unknown and incomprehensible, saying you're her man, whom she buried... Maybe yesterday, maybe a year ago, or maybe half a lifetime from now. What then? You don't even know where or when you'll find the technology for inter-universal travel. And you don't know how she'll react to it at all."
"If I found myself in such a situation, I'd shoot you as a psychopath saying very dangerous things," Kirik said. "It's just... We understand what's happening. We live in a city, most of which will forever remain a mystery to people like me and Alvar. Look at Teyla – even though she doesn't show it, everything around her is new and dangerous."
"Funny... And why did you start this conversation now?" I asked. "After I sent Chaya to work with the database, and Trebal sent her to Taranis. Didn't you have such 'bright' ideas before?"
"Yes, we did," Alvar yawned. "We just thought that since you know the future, and you're not exactly a stupid man, you'd figure it out yourself. But you, it seems, decided you could combine your two lives."
"And wouldn't you want to get your wife back?" I asked, looking at both former "fugitives." "Wouldn't you both strive for that, knowing there's a chance to be together again?"
"A chance?" Alvar clarified. "Sorry, but words about another galaxy, which has a mechanism that can send you to another universe, not even yours, most likely, to a woman who considers you dead... Well, and so on. No offense, my friend, but this is more like a stubborn desire to cling to the past."
"If I knew that somewhere far away lived my chosen one, who considers me dead and, surely, is living on, having survived my loss, I wouldn't stir up wounds," Kirik said. "She's already survived my death. She's already buried me. And my fate will be further connected with dangers, battles. Most likely, I'll die in battles with the Wraiths. So, she'll have to bury me again? Isn't that cowardly of me?"
"Or perhaps Misha thinks he'll find a way back to his universe and leave us," Alvar said. "Just like that – first he helps, and then he just leaves. He'll shove us into a deeper hole than the one he got us out of."
"I didn't say that."
"Well, then you have problems with your head if you haven't thought about it," Alvar took a sip of herbal tea from a large metal mug. Funny, but it's standard tableware on Atlantis. And it has a thermos function, which is very convenient. Food is always hot if it's supposed to be. Cold if it was originally cold. The legacy of another, more advanced civilization, damn it.
"I thought about it," I admitted. "And I came to the conclusion that it would be a cowardly act towards all of you."
"And didn't you think that the Ascended Ancestors don't like you because of your origin from another universe?" the Ermen said. "It's possible that they're creating obstacles for us so that you die faster. And us, probably. What will happen if there are two of you like that? Or more?"
A chill ran down my spine.
A more developed body, huh? A more developed brain? Learned to plan a couple of steps ahead? Even started uncovering the secrets of the Ancients...
But I hadn't even thought about such a "small thing."
No, seriously. If all our misfortunes are pressure from the Ascended? The desire to get rid of me. Then what? Abandoning these people to their fate and returning to my home universe to Marina would be wrong. And, bringing her here, even if she agreed... Then what? Will the Ascended simply destroy us all, or will they swallow us again and hide behind rules?
Or will a "technical malfunction" happen and we'll die during the transition, using a device for inter-universal travel?
Damn it...
"It seems he's gotten it," Alvar chuckled. "You know, Kirik. I suspect that the more developed a civilization is, the more problems in their actions they don't notice."
Uh... What?
"Then we're lucky we're not that developed," Kirik sighed. "Alvar, Ihaar is waving at us. It seems it's time."
The "fugitive" walked towards the "arrow" and the Ancients.
"It looks like they figured this thing out," the Ermen placed the thermos mug on a toolbox in the huge room we used as a hangar. "Mish," he looked me in the eyes. "Honestly, I understand you. Almost. But you understand us too... Everyone has their problems. But making them even more serious by you leaving or bringing a woman who will be doomed to suffering because of the Ascended's rules... That's not exactly the right thing to do."
"A rooster's thing," I said grimly.
"I don't know what that means," Alvar said. "Just... If you decide to leave, let us know in advance, okay? We don't want to suddenly find ourselves with nothing in a city where a simple door can kill you around every corner. Otherwise... Your wife was surely and is a wonderful woman, since you want to reunite with her across universes. But... Just think, does she need all this."
Without another word, the Ermen picked up the pilot's helmet, put it on, and headed towards the "arrow" that was waiting for him.
And I... thought.
About how even a developed Lantian body doesn't save a person from being an idiot.
Little indicated that the three large rooms located in the outer part of the large piers were actually hangars for launching fighters or something similar. On the city plan, they were simply designated as "Technical Compartments."
But their size – a ceiling height of about ten meters and an area the size of a football field – made them suitable for such purposes. The former inhabitants of Atlantis clearly used them as storage for various damaged property. In the hangar where we were now, we found a couple of completely broken "jumpers" from which a significant part of the equipment had been removed. It seemed that technological cannibalism was not something new that I had brought with me to the Pegasus galaxy of this universe.
A large amount of broken consoles, burnt wiring, damaged crystals, and other equipment that would never work again without quality repair. The Ancients had stripped this scrap metal bare, clearly taking everything valuable and intact for use in other devices.
Ihaar assured us that the scrap metal should not be thrown away. At least something could be found that could still be used. In the worst case, it could always be sent to the workshops for remelting and something we needed could be obtained. However, even the small amount we had was pleasing.
We had at our disposal not only a couple of dozen multifunctional consoles that could be restored and repurposed, but also stocks of metals and elements. After all, each console and control panel of Lantian design is not so much a highly specialized computer as a modular platform that can be used as needed. It's enough to insert appropriately programmed crystals and, say, a panel responsible for detecting life signs throughout the city can easily turn into a shield control. The main thing is to connect it to the power and control systems of the city's devices. And for this, often, a wired connection is not even always required.
In short, these "technical compartments" became a real paradise for us homeless people earning money by returning glass bottles. More or less, we're doing the same thing.
But these compartments would still have to be repurposed. Having two hangars, rigidly adapted exclusively for "jumpers" with exits below the waterline and from the central spire, is not very convenient if you want to launch fighters like the Wraith's "arrows." And my global plans include the production of our own analogues. True... It must be understood that for such purposes, either an automated factory or a group of technicians will be needed, who will be exclusively engaged in the production of spare parts and assembly of fighters day and night.
This is not how I imagined the advanced distant future. But reality is evil. And we are increasingly approaching the point where we are exhausting our human resources. There aren't that many Ancients to begin with, and the death of a technician has reduced the number of living and healthy Ancients. Yes, we still have a couple of hundred or so in reserve, but that doesn't mean we have a reason not to count losses.
People are needed literally everywhere.
A technical team to work on the battleship, at the outpost, on Atlantis. We continue to send unmanned drones to other planets related to Ancient outposts or the homelands of younger races. But there is only devastation or small tribes of people living there who themselves need help. And we don't have enough resources to help everyone.
If only someone would help us...
But besides ourselves, no one will do it.
And one team is on duty on the "jumper" on Proculus, observing who will pass through the gates. We shouldn't relax there either – the Wraiths visited us a couple of times. And they, apparently, didn't like the fact that the gates had "moved" from orbit to the surface. The Wraiths staged a whole hunt, releasing almost fifty "arrows" through the gates, which searched Proculus from pole to pole. But they only found old remains of the Jenai, whom Koschei fed on when the supporters of the former Chancellor Leikos decided to flee to their patrons. In the end, the Wraiths left, apparently deciding that the trap was set by someone from a rival hive and decided not to mess with the owners.
But this showed that Proculus is no longer the best place for "accumulating" enemies.
We should find a planet that the Wraiths didn't know about and move the Proculucian project there.
Teams worked on Lantea-2, New Athos, Athos, on Ermen, and on Taranis. On the latter, we obtained raw materials and spare parts for the hull and internal communications of the battleship and Atlantis on an industrial scale (by Ancient standards). True, due to the peculiarities of the energy source, it was impossible to do this on a conveyor principle – the expansion of the magma chamber also has its limits. You can release excess magma through the locks and filter useful substances from it as much as you want, but the more energy you take from the supervolcano, the more the planet decides to share its mantle with you. The sturgeon has to be cut. And this doesn't help with repairs at all.
I had an idea to place a similar complex on Athos, since the planet is abandoned and all that. And there is an energy source there. But to build the same complex as on Taranis, we need resources, time, and... technicians. I'm starting to understand why the Lantians delegated all the dirty work to younger races – there are simply more of them.
The only thing Athos could be useful for now was that we placed a laboratory in the Old City. There, a group of technicians worked with our captured cyborg. For now, it's in stasis, but the virtual environment system will soon be operational, and we'll be able to talk to it.
After the incomprehensible demarche of the Athosians, the issue of obtaining qualified military force became even more acute. So much so that now we have to think about who to bring back to life first – the fighters from the "Atlantis" security service or the technicians and crew.
Trebal demands, despite the pun, the latter.
Chaya and Ihaar need the latter.
Alvar, Kirik, and the logic of upcoming ground operations need the former. And I understand that in each of these categories there are those who will not agree to work with us when they realize that their actions go against the Ascended. And we need to figure out how to find that very saving valve to release pressure.
I have an idea where to direct such malcontents. At the same time, it will be a "treat" for the Ascended. But for now, we're struggling with the coordinates of the planet we need.
Things with naquadah mining on Ermen are getting worse every day. Mistrust between us and the Athosians is growing invisibly after Teyla visited New Athos. Holling, her friend and comrade, who leads the settlement, told us that some Athosians had dreams of the Ancestors, who depicted cooperation with us as not the best idea. I wanted to fly to the Milky Way even more and use weapons against the Ascended. I absolutely don't understand the logic of putting spokes in the wheels of someone you asked to take care of an unknown... THING, in general, that struck the Milky Way.
But it seems that the Ascended's logic is even worse than that of the living Ancients. They wouldn't even communicate through the holographic hall of Atlantis. It seems the divine bastards are offended. Perhaps, if I find the planet I'm looking for, I can rectify the situation. No, objectively, it's difficult to save their legacy when they themselves are messing with you.
They're also silent, like offended ladies who were drunkenly screwed and not taken to the registry office the next morning.
In any case, citing the need to cultivate fields, build a city, and so on, the Athosians from Ermen left. Even Teyla's persuasion didn't help. She wasn't sent to hell, of course, but Holling, democratically, hinted that the interests of the Athosians were more important. He said that everything was fine with you, there was no war, and it was getting colder on New Athos, winter is coming, and they need to prepare for it.
It's hard to argue with such logic – we ourselves informed them during the resettlement that winters on New Athos are indeed harsh. Minus thirty on a normal day is a given. And I trust Chaya's analysis of the natural features of New Athos. In fact, this is one of the few things I truly believe.
This case speaks volumes.
Firstly, Teyla's authority among her own people has been shaken. Holling, though not with a claim, but with a reproach, told her that helping Atlantis is, of course, good. And they are grateful for everything we have done for them. But their own people are more important.
Because it is the leader of the people who must explain to the disputants why the division of their fields should be so and not otherwise. Why one large family cannot take a piece of land from a smaller family that it does not use. Why some have fields further away than others. Why some live in large tents with heaters, and others don't. Why some already have fences that protect them from small rodents, and others don't.
And in general, why can't they return to Athos and at least plant the already developed fields there? Why should they themselves conduct trade negotiations and disputes on trading planets, although the leader should do this? Why should they wait for another group of Lantians to arrive to tell them that someone from the Athosians has become ill, and has contracted a new variant of the local ARVI, and why the Ancients won't give them medicine for all diseases.
I was with her among the Athosians and answered their questions as best I could. But new ones appeared. And after a couple of hours, my head ached so much that I wanted to ask the disguised "jumpers" hovering above us to blow up these damn bastards.
And even though they are clearly legitimate children of their parents, I had that attitude towards them. Because you need to have big balls and small brains to make claims against those who resettled you and your kin on a planet where you are not hunted by Wraiths, who gave you, damn it, electricity from generators, in exchange for splinters and bonfires, who built you fences, because of which you don't have to fear wild animals and crop damage, who give you medicine, who provided you with weapons and taught you how to use them. And so on.
The families of those idiots to whom the Ancestors whispered that the Athosians should kill the Death Queen, even if they didn't say it out loud, clearly blamed us for their deaths. I think, from their slip-ups, I'm starting to understand what the Ascended played on – the Athosians absolutely dislike the fact that we cooperate with the Wraiths. For them, this is something like a local haram, for which they are usually burned at the stake by the Inquisition. But the fact that the more Wraiths the Ancients bring back into service, and the more we will be able to help them, the Athosians don't have the brains to understand.
They, you see, feel sorry for the Jenai. Yes, the claim that the Jenai stopped trading with them now, it turns out, is also directed at us. They say they quarreled with kind and honest merchants. And the fact that they no longer have to pay the Jenai for tawa beans and a lot of other things, and can grow it themselves, is beyond the scoundrels' comprehension. I had to explain. They seemed to understand... But they made a remark that because the Jenai broke off trade relations with them, another good dozen planets did the same, which outweighed the arguments. They, damn it, no longer exchange milk for medicinal herbs! And they don't exchange black bread for game!
What a damn problem! Even though there are a couple of types of animals on New Athos that produce milk. And these idiots know how to bake bread themselves. It's just not black, but gray, because they don't have the right type of wheat.
I'm starting to understand why the Earthlings didn't help the Athosians at every step, but only to the extent possible and in small volumes. This people really goes crazy before your eyes if you show them that you can do more.
After that meeting, I warned Teyla that Atlantis would no longer be "caring for them" and giving them its attention in exchange for them supplying us with products and helping us acquire what we need in other worlds. We have already transferred quite a lot of resources to them. Damn it, where is the justice? Almost all of their large families live in warm, comfortable Ermenian field tents, which are more like inflatable towns, and we only have a couple of them! We had to build a laboratory on Athos, where the cyborg is being nursed, out of shit and sticks, and these bastards have a couple of heaters in each tent!
Emagan stated that she understood everything and would try to convey to her countrymen that a "mouth-rolling machine" is on its way. But, as I understand it, until the Athosians run out of Ermenian fuel, which gives them electricity and other life's pleasures, these guys won't come to their senses.
They've already started supplying less products for us. Teyla, "smart enough," revealed our numbers. To which she received a fair question: "And why should we then supply them with products for a hundred people if there are only about thirty of them? We also need to stock up! It's unknown if next year will be fruitful!"
It will be, damn it, it will be! Because we showed you how to properly cultivate the land! We told you about weeding! About the fact that the droppings of local cows are fertilizer, and everything grows better from it! We gave you needles made of metal and threads made of fabric, not from bones and tendons! And you're still acting up like flies on a panel!
"Alright, I agree, the Athosians are good at spinning and making thread. But they still trade for most of their clothes on market planets. And why? Because they can only make burlap, not the leather goods they wear! Scavengers, damn it.
Maybe Emagan still hoped things could go back to how they were, but I already figured out what was going on. A rift had formed between us and the Athosians. For now, it's just petty squabbles and grudges, but the discontent will only grow. The only thing within our power is to maintain the existing relationship and fill the warehouses while we still have something to fill them with.
I already told Chaya—as soon as we're done with the cyborg-Saiyan on Athos, we're taking all the equipment and leaving. If we can, we'll even extract the geothermal reactor and take it with us. And we'll remove the defenses from their gates too. To hell with them! Unhappy with what's happening? Fine, we'll leave.
What's more, based on what's happening, I clearly understood—we'll have to change Atlantis's location eventually. Not tomorrow, but someday. Even if the Athosians don't know our gate address, they still possess enough information to cause trouble if they fall into the hands of the Wraiths. Here's another lesson—don't trust your hindsight. The hope that we'd appease the Athosians and they'd be grateful to us didn't pan out.
Yes, Tayla claims that there aren't that many of these arrogant bastards, only about five families, meaning no more than thirty people. And the other couple of hundred Athosians are actually quite loyal to us and grateful for everything we've done and are doing for them. But, as is known, it's the vocal minority that causes most of the problems.
And either we solve the issue with this minority, or the Athosians will be left to fend for themselves. I've already received confirmation from Ihaary and Trebal that, if necessary, we can dismantle the mobile drilling rig, as well as the satellite in orbit around Lantea (with immense difficulty, of course) and transport it to a new location using the cargo holds of the 'Hippaphoralkus' and Atlantis itself. But for now, that's the most extreme option.
But the 'wake-up call' for me is more than loud enough.
So I had to pull a few people from the work crew on Atlantis and assign them to solve the problem of naxadaha extraction. Not specifically on Ermen, they have their own problems there, but in general. We need radioactive material to improve the battleship and build new energy sources. And no matter what planet we find it on, we'll have to mine it.
So far, they haven't been able to offer anything, just studying Atlantis's databases in the hope of finding the extraction technology the Lantians used. Ah, if only it were that easy to find such a machine, the size of a skyscraper. But essentially, it was a BELAZ that gorged on 'growth hormone' and took over the technology of a quarry excavator. The machine absorbed matter, then broke down the unnecessary parts, processing them into raw materials. And the naxadaha was sifted out and left untouched.
To say my hair stood on end in all the inappropriate places when I realized the Ancients mined minerals using quarry methods is an understatement. Damn it, where is all that genius with which they triumphantly colonized entire galaxies, huh? No answer. I shout, but only silence replies.
Fortunately, at least the silicon extraction on Lantea-2 can be stopped—we have enough scrap metal for processing. But it will, of course, run out in the foreseeable future. And we'll have to swing shovels again and transport raw materials across half the star system.
It's infuriating.
Just like the fact that the Wraiths didn't just occupy all the known resource planets of the Ancients for no reason. And we know of more than five hundred such planets from the database. The Wraiths also need raw materials, if the data from the scout drones they transmitted before being shot down is to be believed. And they clearly have no intention of giving up what they've mined in the war.
After we lost the hundredth drone, I ordered an end to the survey of the Ancients' former resource planets. Wherever we launched drones, there were always patrolling Wraith 'arrows.' And I didn't choose the destinations by order, but randomly. Hoping that luck would smile on us somewhere.
But not a chance. It seems all five hundred planets are occupied by dormant hive ships. We've already given them a challenge by actively using drones based on Ermen technologies, so there was no point in poking the Wraith bear further. Eventually, they're not idiots and sooner or later will correlate the data, study the wreckage, and ask themselves: 'Who is this impudent one exploring specific planets using technologies more complex than a hoe and a windmill?'
Therefore, after one more raid on Ermen with all available personnel and 'jumpers,' we extracted everything that could somehow help us in the future. Continuing to stay on Ermen, knowing that the technology from there had already led the Wraiths to the planet, was more trouble than it was worth.
There was nothing interesting left there, except for scraps of wires or something else that didn't look like outright junk. In the foreseeable future, we might be able to return and continue excavating the old mines, but for now, controlling the planet is pointless. Chaya wrote a hidden subroutine and uploaded it to the dial-home device. When we return, we'll find out who visited the planet. But until then, all regular trips to Ermen are suspended. Besides, there are already enough traces of our presence left there—cleared mines, dead and already decomposing Jenai, and plundered dungeons.
We covered our tracks as best we could and left.
On Taranis and Efeon, things are proceeding as usual—I'm talking about the local inhabitants. Teams periodically fly to the locals, helping with some matters... But we are very far from these people being able to give us anything more than a couple of sacks of grain a week. For the inhabitants of Atlantis, whose numbers are now in the dozens, this is... not quite the volume we need.
One of the walls of the makeshift hangar—the far one—had an exit to the atmosphere, and through it, one could fly out and into the hangars. Currently, we've cleared only a part of one hangar's area of scrap metal and damaged mechanisms, where we delivered the 'arrows' from the cruiser one by one using two 'jumpers.'
The condition of both was not the best, but the technicians dissected one. And based on the data obtained from the vivisection, they were able to partially repair the second. Whether the first will return to normal condition is unknown. Most likely not. Because, as it turned out, the 'arrows' do not have regeneration like the hive ships or cruisers.
"Control," Alvar's voice came from the intercom. "This is 'Arrow-1.' Takeoff was nominal, the machine responds to control."
The Ermen was currently piloting the ship within the atmosphere under the shield. Taking the barely repaired machine beyond its limits and through the ocean depths didn't seem like a good idea. At least because its hull is fragile enough to give way under pressure of several dozen atmospheres.
Returning to the control room, Ihaary and I watched as the red dot of the 'arrow' darted between the skyscrapers of the Lantian city at breakneck speed. Well... One of the many projects developed within these walls looks like it won't break from the first sneeze.
At least that's some good news.
"Alvar, could you reduce your speed to a minimum?" Ihaary asked. "My blood runs cold at the thought that you might lose control and ram one of the buildings. This is a test flight, not a race against death."
"I've tested the engine in afterburner mode," Jensen laughed. But then added, "Reducing speed so you don't have a heart attack. You can remember this—I don't make piloting mistakes, don't worry."
"I'm not worried about you," Ihaary grumbled. "But about you demolishing something very important in the city."
Studying the 'arrows' gave us a little more understanding of Wraith technology. Even for me.
So, the primary purpose of the 'arrow' is that it's an interceptor fighter. To protect more important objects from attack. And it doesn't matter how—with cannons or its hull.
From the computers of the cruiser and the 'arrow' itself, we learned that the cruiser normally carries fifty such machines. Hive ships carry many times more. How many exactly is not entirely clear.
This is a single-seat ship, with no transparent cockpit—instead, an opaque force field is projected above the pilot, on which, like a screen, information about what's happening around is displayed, as well as the ship's technical condition. The 'arrow's' onboard computer is quite primitive, its protective protocols are very easy to hack. And this is not due to the Wraiths' stupidity—the 'arrow' doesn't carry much information transmitted from the carrier ship. Only the current mission and identification codes, so as not to confuse one's own cruiser with an enemy's in battle.
There is also an autopilot—and it engages when the ship approaches the docking bay entrance. Our 'jumpers' have the same thing. I've already mentioned the dial-home device for passing through the gate's hyper-tunnel. But the Wraiths' is quite modest due to the small size of the cockpit.
The Wraith's language doesn't require a translator; the program for translating from the Wraith language, uploaded by Chaya, works correctly. What was pleasing was that the designations on the organic buttons, when changing the 'user language,' also transformed—from Wraith symbols (whose language is very similar to Ancient) to designations that Alvar indicated. After all, he's our test pilot, so he's the one to decide what he sees on his control panel. Yes, it took some effort to rewrite the basic designation programs, but that's just details.
The ship is equipped with a very interesting tractor beam technology. When working, it resembles a stream of glowing water pouring from a tap and can increase its collection area. The collected organic matter—and the beam's sensors are tuned to recognize signs of life (which is logical, considering the 'arrows' are used for collecting people)—but Chaya claims they can be easily reprogrammed for something quite specific.
I think this is how the Wraiths collected MNT in known events when attacking the replicator planet in Pegasus. The collected material object in the form of energy is stored in a special buffer and can be restored to its normal state at the pilot's command.
The Wraith 'arrow' over Atlantis. A frame from the series.
It's also worth noting that this same beam can simultaneously be used as a device for thorough scanning. But this requires a high energy expenditure from the single power source on board the 'arrow.' Literally, everything that the engines don't consume at normal speed, the protective cockpit canopy, and the inertial compensators are used up.
What's curious is that the tractor beam can penetrate solid objects—even concrete-811. And it can materialize cargo inside enclosed spaces—Kirik, whom Alvar 'collected' through the roof of the makeshift hangar and landed there, making a circle over the city, confirmed this.
At normal speeds, the 'arrow' is no faster than the 'jumper'—this is evident from the fact that our 'jumper,' accompanying Alvar and recording readings while performing various actions, confidently keeps pace. But at cruising or forced speeds, the 'jumper' cannot catch up to the 'arrow.'
Nor can it compare to it in maneuverability in the atmosphere. Having an aerodynamic fuselage, the Wraith fighter is quite agile and nimble. But for similar acrobatics, the 'jumper' needs to use either cloaking or an active force shield to improve aerodynamics. Which is not good—it consumes much more energy.
One must assume that for the Lantians, energy consumption was not a serious issue until the very end. But the Achilles' heel of Wraith technology forced them to rack their brains and create something that would be quite effective with limited resources.
This once again points to the obvious: they are a very intelligent and inventive race, not just life-suckers.
The 'arrows' are equipped with direct-action pulse energy weapons, which are powerful enough to destroy a Lantian homing missile—we just tested this. An unpleasant discovery, I must say. It turns out that even if we get an arsenal of missiles and unleash them on the hive ships, not all of them will destroy the Wraiths. Yes, as I recall, the 'arrow' pilots are ready to die to intercept missiles they can't shoot down, but the fact that the 'arrow's' target acquisition systems are so advanced that they can track even Ancient-mind-controlled missiles is a real problem.
And the fact that there's a self-destruct device on board was obvious anyway. The Wraiths won't give up their machines so as not to allow them to be studied in working condition.
Of the obvious drawbacks revealed during the test flight, I wouldn't say there was any major problem that could help us in open combat. The thin hull, vulnerable to pressure and, apparently, even heavy caliber small arms, is nothing new. Lightweight hulls are used on all small atmospheric craft, even 'jumpers.' The ship's imperfect reactor... Well, we knew about this Wraith problem before. But this is more of a strategic problem than a tactical one. You can't use it in every engagement with the 'arrows,' only if you wait until the Wraith pilot starts expending energy on detailed scanning with the tractor beam.
Alvar summarized the overall conclusions from the test:
"Well, now I can understand why their 'arrows' kicked our orbital interceptors' butts. We simply didn't build our small craft for an extermination war."
It's hard to argue with what he said.
And this depresses me even more.
The hole we're in is getting deeper.