The gate closed behind me, and my gaze turned to the dome huddled nearby. Another race too short-sighted to place such important objects so close to the entrance. Thank the gods, those who know me have grasped the concept of gate defenses to a tee, by my standards. I've finally found the Holy Grail. True, not the one that could stop the Ascended. No, I've found the planet where O'Neill and his team were immersed in virtual reality. For me, that's the Holy Grail: instead of creating holosuites, one can create entire worlds in the mind. Although, I admit, I'll still build one, purely for the opportunity and my own amusement. I was also impressed by the Knight who managed to defeat me, so creating something like that would be a truly remarkable achievement.
Let's get back to virtual reality. It's not just the dream of gamers everywhere; it's also a powerful educational tool, right down to training workers. Yes, in the end, it all comes down to EVE Online. It's unbearably annoying how the SGC neglected all these tools—practically nothing. They should have handed over control to a group of truly smart people and released it to the masses. But no, secrecy above all else. In the end, the game was written by physicists... And, most outrageous, they didn't even consult with the designer of the chairs themselves, wondering why he constantly sent them packing.
The Guardian is certainly a real bastard, but the SGC seems to seriously believe they can control immersive virtual reality technology without the involvement of its creator. I'm more than certain that the whole Teal'c thing was their mistake, caused by a complete misunderstanding of the programming language and the purpose of certain lines of code. And yet there was also a backup hardware exit for humans from virtual reality, from the real world! They, calling it a finished product, foresaw nothing. Why is the iPhone created with such attention to detail and the involvement of so many specialists? It's a constant game of tinkering with something you don't understand, and a lack of tools for understanding. In this case, it would have been enough to bring in more people, more programmers and doctors who specialize in the brain. But for the KZV, secrecy has always been more important than logic.
So a squad of SAS men followed me. I usually took them on diplomatic or reconnaissance missions. The drones, meanwhile, began to survey the surroundings, and satellites were launched through the gate to thoroughly survey the surrounding area. I was also interested. Drone reconnaissance was a great way to avoid absurd situations, like the time a redshirt got shot by yet another flower. Besides, I'm not stupid; planetary exploration requires intelligence. That's why I checked the intar—it'll definitely come in handy. I wasn't planning on entering other people's simulations, so let's end with some good old-fashioned threats.
My drones started transmitting information, specifically about people connected to the devices. I demonstrated this to my team.
"What is this? Stasis?" asked Maine.
"I don't know. If so, it's extremely strange. A close-up scan is necessary. And if the people are in stasis, there must be a shut-off mechanism. Otherwise, they're stuck there. But I must say, I can guess why they went into stasis. It was a lot of fun here for a thousand years. Not as fun as the last planet, but this one clearly wanted to kill those it sheltered."
"On the Irish planet, at least they had the foresight to erect an energy field. There's nothing like that here, but they would have at least built bunkers."
"Not everyone thinks in the same patterns."
We entered the complex and found a woman in stasis. I began scanning her, noticing brain activity.
— According to the data, her brain is functioning right now, and there is a very dense and stable connection between them.
"Do they communicate?" Maine asked.
— Yes.
"Hmm, interesting. What if this civilization decided to seek eternal life? What if they're here, and their consciousness controls robots, like Harlan?"
Maine turned out to be smarter than that dumb race. He apparently came up with the system used in the film "Surrogate." I'm impressed. It's immediately obvious that the creator of the SAS (actually, the second in command simply held the command for a long time) is a very intelligent man with a structured mind. After all, he worked as a lawyer.
"The signals don't go beyond this building," I pointed out. "But I like your idea, I'll implement it. For example, to send these robots under human control to dangerous places, to explore the ocean or asteroids—places where using humans would be dangerous. To replace people in mines, and so on."
- But not in the army.
"Jamming the communications on the required frequency, that's all. Plus, my army is Jaffa. They have trouble transmitting mental signals because of the symbiotes. But don't worry, I'll give you royalties for the idea."
"I'm a lawyer, I'll sue you for everything," Maine joked.
"The court will be under my jurisdiction, and taking ideas away from subordinates is legal in the Tetrarchy. No, that's absurd. I need to find out what the status of patent law is on this planet."
- Actually, I wrote it at Isara's request.
- Is it true?
- Yes. In fact, I wrote many laws where Urvashi's lawyers floundered because they didn't understand the situation.
I looked at the Irishman with a serious look.
— I think I owe you a bonus.
"Can I wish for my own spaceship?" the man asked. "I like space, and I'd like to explore it a little."
— Are you drunk?
— Yes.
"Very well, for your dedicated service and as part of the bonus." "The man is creating SAS members for me, from the people of Urvashi, why not? The Jaffa are not the right tool for this kind of work, and changing their mindset will take a long time. You can't send them out with a rifle to kill a Jaffa Master or on a long-term reconnaissance mission. That's not their style. Sabotage, assassination of senior command personnel, reconnaissance, and so on—the Jaffa may be built perfectly for it, but their minds aren't ready yet. Egeria also has the SOE, or rather, a couple dozen veterans of that service are setting up a similar service across the galaxy.
The SOE was a British intelligence organization focused on gathering information and waging sabotage against Germany and the Axis powers. After World War II, they were absorbed into MI6. But not all of them, so some were found. Preparation is crucial first. I wouldn't want to lose agents who would tell the Goa'uld about me, someone so smart that I want to set up spy cells on their territory. So we'll start rebellions against the Goa'uld, without the rebels even knowing I'm doing it. But fully developing an intelligence organization takes time, and we need to think through how such a structure will operate without attracting attention. Plus, I'm not fighting World War II; I have time for full preparation. Failures are highly undesirable.
We moved on, encountering more and more people. And all over the planet there were numerous complexes where people were apparently kept in stasis.
— Can we contact them?
"I don't see any tools for bringing someone out of stasis," I pointed out, which was a pretty stupid scenario. You can't do that; there has to be a kill switch, unless the Guardian hadn't planned to take these people hostage from the start. A local Greta Thunberg, locking people in virtual reality for the sake of flowers. Meanwhile, to protect his secret, he wanted to condemn complete strangers to eternal stasis. Luckily, he replayed the botched military operation for O'Neill, and didn't replay his son shooting himself. Then I wouldn't have given a damned penny for the Guardian's life.
When we approached the empty pods, the wires tried to pull us inside, but all the wires shattered against the shields my men had. Maine and the other soldiers aimed their weapons at the pods, but I remained calm.
"You were right, we can contact them. They can somehow keep track of everything, but for some reason they want to put us into stasis."
— What happens if I shoot someone in the leg?
"I suspect they'll end up with a hole in their leg," said the dry military humor. Logically, seeing that we can't be defeated, the Guardian should appear to at least negotiate.
After a few minutes of wandering around the greenhouse, which was supposed to be a complex with stasis capsules, a strangely dressed man appeared.
- Stop! You shouldn't be here!
"Then you should have blocked the gate somehow," I pointed behind me. The soldiers took aim at the stranger, guarding me.
His face displayed a wide range of emotions, and he looked like a man suffering from both vomiting and diarrhea.
"You're not alive. You're an android, and judging by the technology, I can assume you're from Altair."
"Do you know Altair?" the Guardian asked.
"Yes, we found Harlan there. However, he believed it was impossible to sustain life for long without the generator, and the androids should always be close to the complex."
"Harlan's an idiot," the Guardian replied. "Autonomous power supplies were invented long ago, and we didn't stop ourselves. I didn't stop myself. And what do you want? You come and destroy my paradise."
"It seems like these people are in stasis, and this isn't paradise. Why don't they live here? The planet is habitable."
"They'll destroy everything!" he shouted, causing my guards to tense up again. "They did it last time, and they'll do it this time, they'll destroy everything: all the nature, the flowers, the trees, everything I worked so hard to restore."
— Let me clarify: you locked a lot of people in stasis to keep them from destroying nature?
"I didn't lock them away, I developed a technology that will allow them to exist in stasis for a very long time.
— Why neural activity? It ages people mentally.
This seemed to perplex the man. It seemed he'd taken the very technology that could have been on Altair without thinking. Idiot.
— So that they can spend time in virtual reality.
- For what?
The question threw him off balance again.
If they were in stasis for millennia, why did they need a virtual reality where they lived out fictional lives for those same millennia?
He pulled out his pistol and fired near the android, scorching the bizarre flower. The plasma blast dispersed the vapors, leaving only an eerie trail.
"Bring everyone out of stasis. Congratulations, your planet is now mine. You can tell Harlan he's a complete idiot. One wants to turn people into soulless machines, the other keeps them captive without bothering to explain why."
"But they'll destroy nature!" the android pleaded, his voice trembling with despair.
"But doesn't the winter that comes every year ruin it?" my interlocutor retorted. "Moreover, this is the natural path of civilization's development: first, we exist in harmony with nature, then we move on to a productive economy, the industrial age, the atomic age, and finally, the thermonuclear age. When our impact on the environment becomes minimal. For example, food synthesis technologies will free up vast territories currently used for agriculture and return them to nature. I have similar developments, so shut up and wake everyone up from stasis. After that, I will outline the party's policy to you. Perhaps I will even allow you to work in my environmental department."
The Guardian let out a pitiful groan, but obeyed.
"We... We just captured the planet?" the lieutenant colonel whispered, his gaze fixed on the android retreating into the shadows.
— Yes.
- Wow.