"You realized it long ago?" I asked Chaya.
"Almost immediately after you said it was much easier to connect with people," Sar replied. "I remembered how we interrogated Tyrus, another Jenai spy on Proculus, Chancellor Leikos. I thought: 'If he agrees that Koschei needs to be gotten rid of, then he has some other plan for interrogating prisoners.' And, as we know, Jensen's fists didn't get anything valuable out of Tyrus. It's likely that in the future, we won't get anything valuable from prisoners, at least not from the Jenai. And here comes an interesting option to get right into their heads..."
I raised my hands.
"You caught me," denial was pointless. "Yes, I'm such a bad person. I saw an opportunity and decided to take advantage of it."
"Just like with the cyborg," Chaya sighed heavily and closed her eyes. She was silent for a few seconds, then said:
"You understand that because of your people's actions, Teyla will never give up such experiments?"
"Unpleasant, but a fact," I agreed. "It's disgusting to use her guilt, but... You must understand yourself – we are in a vulnerable position. There are few of us, we only have one ZPM, the ship can't withstand a serious battle... If we have prisoners who need to be interrogated quickly – she is the best candidate."
"There are other Athosians with a similar gift," Chaya noted.
"There are," I agreed. "Teyla's husband, Kanan, for example."
"Kanaan," the Proculucian corrected me. "And he's not her husband."
"Really?" I was surprised. "On the 'Aurora,' he was so jealous, so jealous... They're together, aren't they?"
"They are lovers," Sar explained. "People united by common grief, finding solace in each other. She lost her family, he did too. She has Jenai DNA and the ability to sense them," the girl paused for a moment. "Kanaan, according to Teyla, can do the same. Wouldn't it be better to use a man for such actions?"
"A brewer-interrogator?" I grinned. "Yes, that's something new in our crazy galaxy. And yes, if he agrees, then why not. Only, I'm sure Teyla will handle it better."
"Why?"
"She's a woman."
Chaya massaged her temples.
"Some young races, for example, the Dorandans, had an unhealthy idea of equality between men and women," she said slowly. "The theory was that men and women could do the same job with equal efficiency."
"Yes, there are such crazy people on Earth too," I confirmed. "But I haven't heard of brigades of female miners, steelworkers, road workers... Office clerks, lawyers, managers – en masse. But where physical strength and endurance are needed, which evolution has given specifically to the male sex, women are rare. And that's to their credit, by the way. Ambition, respect, and all that..."
"That's why Trebal joined the military fleet," Chaya added. "Although the profession of a soldier in the Lantian Confederacy was predominantly male. But times were difficult, war..."
"Wraith Queens are stronger than male commanders," I interrupted the girl. "My theory is that Teyla has the potential to be as strong as a Wraith Queen. But Kanaan..."
"I understand you," Sar sighed again. "I support your idea, but I don't agree with it."
"That sounds like you want to hit me with cognitive dissonance," a hint of a smile appeared on my lips.
"I understand the necessity of such a procedure and such a person among us," Chaya said slowly. "But I don't like the fact that we will be using Teyla in the dark. You know perfectly well what such 'secret intentions' lead to."
"I know," I nodded. "That's why I'm going to talk to her about it. In private. And I don't know how to do it yet, considering the guilt she feels for her people and their actions on the platform. Yes, using her is a disgusting idea, but practical."
"I'm glad you realize that not all means are good," Chaya smiled awkwardly, as if embarrassed. "Otherwise, we'll be no better than the Lantians in terms of using monstrous means to solve problems."
"Well, I haven't decided to blow up planets for minerals yet. And besides, that's, it seems, your favorite topic."
Chaya looked at me with a playfully angry expression.
"Misha, it's not time for such jokes yet."
I leaned forward and winked at her.
"But with every joke, we get closer to working through your psychological trauma and surviving this. Isn't that right?"
"You're spending too much time on my inner world," Chaya shook her head. "They're already whispering..."
"We don't care," I shrugged. "I recently received good advice – don't cling to the past that I can't get without making the present worse. So... How about dinner?"
A blush appeared on Sar's tanned cheeks.
However... Strange are your ways, genetics.
"It's not even noon yet," Chaya looked away. "And... The technicians messed up the power supply from the drill to the Wraith cruiser, so my generator isn't needed there. We'll power up Atlantis soon. Since you're idle anyway, maybe you could deliver the generator to the satellite?"
"Certainly," I confirmed. "But first, tell me. Do we have recordings from the scene of the Death Queen's demise?"
"The technicians took a hologram of the entire corridor," Chaya frowned. "But... Why do you need it?"
"I was thinking that our life-sucker is cooperating with us rather reluctantly... Maybe show him an instructional video, huh?"
The laboratory doors swung open behind her.
But even before the panels slid into the grooves within the walls, without lifting her head from the device she was assembling, she noticed the figure standing before her.
"Dinner?" a sarcastic comment rang out. "Seriously?"
Chaya closed her eyes, took a couple of breaths, trying to calm down. Then she put on a polite smile and looked at the uninvited guest.
"Shouldn't you be looking at military databases?" she asked delicately.
"Don't change the subject, Sar," Trebal said threateningly. "You might as well have ordered wine from Athos!"
"And I did," the Proculucian said calmly, sitting down on a chair. Gesturing for the woman who entered to do the same, she remained calm about her companion ignoring her. "But not the thermonuclear kind that turns people into biomass. It turns out they have drinks that are not like moonshine."
"Decided to get him drunk and drag him to bed?" Trebal's eyes gleamed with menace. "How low you've fallen. Though, what am I saying? Chaya Sar never backs down from finding a powerful patron for herself!"
"I ordered wine almost immediately after returning to Atlantis at Misha's request," Chaya explained. "He promised the tribune he'd toast the 'Aurora.' And he wants to do it when the entire crew regains consciousness. He says it's the right way to do it."
"And how long has he been sharing all his plans with you?"
"Not all of them," Sar corrected. "Only those that fall within my purview. Whatever you might be thinking, I'm not his chosen one. I'm just something like the governor and chief scientific officer of Atlantis. Nothing more."
"And the dinner you asked to be prepared is nothing more than a working meeting?" Trebal sneered. "Don't take me for a fool, Sar. Unlike the others, I see right through you."
"If that were the case, I'd probably hack into your apartment's security system and embed a small piece of enriched naquadah with a detonator into your bed," Chaya smiled. "Because then, in your opinion, it would be my style, wouldn't it?"
"Thanks for the tip," Trebal said with a strained smile. "I'll search the bed."
The Proculucian sighed heavily.
"You still can't forgive me," she understood.
"You killed everyone on Dorandan," Trebal cut her off. "And it doesn't really matter whether you did it of your own free will or were ordered to press the button!"
"I only pressed it because they pressed me," Chaya said. "And they made it unequivocally clear that my people would be left defenseless against the Wraiths. Would you have done differently? To protect your people?"
"Differently," Trebal assured her. "And that's precisely what I'm doing. To protect all the remaining Dorandans. Are you so stupid you don't understand this? If so, you disappoint me."
"I understand perfectly," Chaya averted her eyes. "You hold the highest position among the survivors from Dorandan. And if you become Mikhail's chosen one, your people will be ensured the status of a ruling nation in the new society. Pragmatic, Trebal. I didn't expect anything else from you, really."
"Then stay out of it," the woman opposite growled. "And remember more often that I'm doing this because of what you did!"
"And not because you're fond of him?" Chaya clarified. "Just a calculation for the future?"
"Unlike you, I don't let anyone I feel nothing for touch me, unless I intend to use them for my own purposes," Trebal scoffed. "But I'm responsible for my people! And I'm doing what I have to."
"Who do you owe?" Chaya asked. "We're all in the same boat here. We only owe it to ourselves to survive, not to get killed."
"Then use your head a little, if your synapses aren't busy plotting against me," Trebal narrowed her eyes. "Misha is a Lantian. Probably the only survivor in the galaxy. We don't count the Ascended. As long as he's here, all of this," she gestured around the laboratory, but clearly meant more, "is working as it should. How long will he live? A year? A hundred years? Two hundred? I don't know, given his genetic difference from other Lantians, but I hope as long as possible. But he's too strongly connected to his universe. And perhaps, one day, he'll leave, leaving us all with problems we can't solve with our current level of Ancient genes. Perhaps in a million or two years, we'll be as developed as the Lantians. Perhaps we'll be able to improve genetic therapy and develop faster. But do we have the time? I don't think so. So we need to act here, now, and quickly. He and I have Lantian genes. This means our children will receive improved DNA. And children are born faster than evolution or evolutionary genetic therapy is developed. So his and my children are our chance not to be left with nothing when he returns to his universe."
"All his children," Chaya corrected.
"Yes, but you don't have Lantian genes, which means your children will be weaker than mine," Trebal argued. "Just like the children of any other Ancient women who are still in stasis or already awakened. Including, if he mates with your beloved Fren. But," the Dorandan raised a finger, emphasizing her words, "we know that somewhere out there," she waved her hand to the side, "there's 'Tria.' And that bitch Helya! Misha said they're moving at near-light speed towards Earth, somewhere between our galaxies now. And if we try hard enough, very hard, and don't rely on luck, we can find them. The entire crew—a bit older, but definitely combat-ready. And who doesn't need to be revived, unlike the people from the 'Aurora.' And that gives Helya an advantage! If you've forgotten, she's a Lantian! And her crew are Ytranci! Come on, use your brain, Sar, I know you still have plenty of free neurons! Come on, think! Don't forget that Helya was your defender at the trial! And with such a defender, I didn't even have to try hard! She herself led you to the point where the Council would execute you!"
"I've already calculated everything," Chaya said sadly. "Helya's DNA is better than yours, mine, or anyone's in this city, except Mikhail's. Ytranci DNA is stronger than Dorandan or Proculucian. They are third in DNA strength after the Asuras and the Lantians themselves. Consequently, when they return, Helya will undoubtedly understand what's what and join the fight for him. And since she sympathizes with the Ytranci, her and Mikhail's offspring will lead the new Atlantis. And you, I, and the entire crew of the 'Aurora' will end up in secondary, if not lower, roles."
"Well, I'll be," Trebal whistled. "It turns out you're actually smart if you understand this. Only, I can't grasp the reason why you, genetically weaker than me, don't understand that I'm the best option as his chosen one! Ow! What the⁈"
The sudden smack and clearly unpleasant sensations that Trebal's rear experienced, Mikhail leaning on the table, and the confusion on the Dorandan's face, as well as Chaya's guiltily lowered eyes, led to an awkward silence.
"Well?" the man looked at them in turn. "Why the silence, Mengele with breasts? Go on, continue discussing the plan to use the stud stallion. I'll listen, if you don't mind?"
Trebal, looking at the door she had her back to, then at Chaya, gritted her teeth, clearly understanding what had happened.
"You bitch," she spat. "You saw him right away!"
"Right away, of course," Mikhail sighed, sitting on the chair Trebal had ignored ten minutes ago. "And stayed silent. In the best tradition of female intrigue, she used you to discredit herself in front of me. You know, this is actually a bad movie cliché."
"I'll kill you," Trebal mouthed, meeting Chaya's gaze. "I'll wring your neck."
"Stop throwing thunder and lightning," the Dorandan was advised by Mikhail, clasping his hands behind his back. "In principle, I understood before that there was something more behind your bickering. But you should have thought about the fact that having grown up in an Ancient society, you wouldn't so easily give up the 'humane eugenics' preached by the Lantians."
Trebal, finding a spot on the laboratory table, settled on it, looking at Chaya and Misha from under her brows.
"Now, let's go point by point," Mikhail suggested. "By the way, Chaya, I delivered the generator to the satellite."
"I know," she said, looking towards her laptop.
"As well as that I informed you I'd stop by to ask about the questions you have for Koschei," Misha nodded. "Convenient... No, seriously, you caught our Mata Hari cleverly."
Only the applause he produced sounded mocking. Both Chaya and Trebal looked humiliated.
"Helya, the commander of 'Tria,' is not Ytranci, but Lantian?" Mikhail clarified.
"A half-blood, like Trebal," Chaya said. "Her mother is Lantian, her father Ytranci. Because the Ytranci are genetically more developed and quite close to the Lantians, they were practically considered Lantians. There were many marital ties between these two peoples and..."
"That's enough for now," Mikhail requested. "I'm starting to feel sick from all your discussions about genetics, offspring, and all that. I literally feel like an animal, a stud bull, or something like that. By the way, Trebal. Haven't you considered that to maintain power in the future, it would be good to have many children? True, there's a chance they'll start a civil war among themselves for the inheritance. Wouldn't it be better for me to impregnate all the women in the city? Regardless of their DNA level, the next generation will be stronger. They'll mix with other descendants, Dorandans, for example. They'll become a little stronger, and at least won't degrade much."
"I thought about it," Trebal said dryly, looking away.
"I don't see a crowd of Ancient beauties chasing after me," Mikhail openly enjoyed the situation.
"Trebal forbade them to bother her," Chaya said. "There's an order..."
The second girl in the laboratory shot her a malevolent glance.
And Mikhail slowly uttered a three-letter word. Chaya had already understood his native language a little and knew it was one of the most common profanities in his people's lexicon. It was used as a universal expression of surprise, joy, despair, anger, and other strong emotions.
"You know, I never thought that after death, women would line up for me," Mikhail said with a chuckle.
"They don't support genetic development of the gene pool on Earth?" Trebal clarified.
"On Earth, they don't build every first invention with a genetic lock and then run around this technology, trying to enhance their genetics," Misha said sharply. "There was one guy who elevated genetic frequency to an absolute. And he started a world war with tens of millions of casualties to prove that his nation was better than others for some reason. And he did it so 'coolly' that they were kicked by the entire civilized world, and they're probably still morally humiliated even after my death."
"Savages," Trebal grumbled.
"You are the savages!" Mikhail said. "You're obsessed with your genetics like a dog with a burning letter. What's human left in you? Why can't you sympathize with a person just because you like their DNA, but because they are themselves the person with whom you feel inspired? Who cares about you, who will help, hold you close in a difficult moment, let you cry on their chest?"
"Or agree to a deal with an unknown entity under unclear conditions so that you can live," Trebal said, looking at Mikhail. "Or fight with a bleeding artery, bandaged with a scrap of their clothing, against someone who wants to kill you. Will aim for the head of the Death Queen, who can take your life in a second, and bargain with the most bloodthirsty creature in the galaxy for you to live your life, not die on a ravaged platform at the bottom of the ocean. Or endure the rampage of your hormones, amplified by the Wraith enzyme, and not take advantage of you while you're dazed by Wraith biochemistry. Are you talking about such a person?"
"Um..." Mikhail seemed flustered. "Well..."
"For the record," Chaya realized that if she didn't intervene, the silence in her laboratory would last a very long time. "In Ancient society, it's not customary to sacrifice or risk oneself for another, genetically less developed, person. This would worsen the genetics of the survivors."
"I'm saying—you're all mentally traumatized by your eugenics," Mikhail winced. "Who would have thought that the creators of humans were a little bit, a tiny bit, damn Nazis?"
"Who would have thought that in the last ten thousand years, Trebal's breasts have been groped by two men and one woman," Chaya said innocently. "And two of them were Wraiths..."
Mikhail, after a moment of processing, leaned back in his chair and burst into laughter.
Chaya smiled, seeing Trebal roll her eyes.
"You find it funny," she snorted. "And I thought I'd scrub the floor in the gym until the enzyme left me. While you," she pointed a finger at Mikhail, "are hitting on her," she indicated Chaya.
"I was hitting on you?" Mikhail asked in surprise, looking at the Proculucian.
"She thinks so," Chaya sighed. "And I can't convince her otherwise. I think she's just extrapolating her desires and vision of your life together onto the fact that I might do the same."
"And you can't?" Mikhail clarified.
"How many times have I broken into your cabin and packed your things?" Chaya inquired.
"You'll remind us of this forever, won't you?" Trebal rolled her eyes.
"And a little longer after that," Chaya assured. "I've entered this incident into the Atlantis archives."
"Bitch," Trebal drawled.
"I've always said that a small, fluffy, and seemingly peaceful hamster is much more dangerous to a grain silo than a venomous snake," Mikhail laughed. "Chaya, you're a very cunning hamster."
"I'll take that as a compliment, I suppose," Sar said with a strained smile.
"Alright," Mikhail instantly lost all the fun on his face and in his voice. "So, finding 'Tria' isn't that difficult?"
"It's difficult," Chaya didn't lie. "But possible. As soon as we have those observation satellites you mentioned, used by the Lantians to observe other races, I can reconfigure them for a wider scanning area."
"We know the location of 'Tria's' last battle," Trebal added. "If they headed straight for Earth from there, we need to estimate the galaxy's rotation speed over all this time and calculate the optimal course to the Milky Way's borders."
"And use what you said about the place where the humans found the ship," Chaya added. "Midway between the two galaxies, as of two years ago or so. The calculations won't be precise, but by sending a battleship there, we can find 'Tria' in some time."
"And bring them all here," Trebal added bitterly. "And we'll have more people with strong genes..."
"As well as the problem with a near-Lantian," Mikhail added.
"Helya is a tough woman," Chaya added. "Like all Ytranci. They're not very accommodating, they don't like those who are less developed than them..."
"Rather, they don't like them at all," Trebal corrected. "I'd even say they despise them and try not to have anything to do with them. Only if they can be useful in some way. For example, my people would suit them as Atlantis's service staff."
"I recall you mentioning that the Ytranci had their own copy of Atlantis," Mikhail looked at the girls in turn.
"It was shot down during the war," Trebal said. "And no one knows where it fell. I checked the city's database for it—no data since the last communication session with Atlantis. And then they reported that they were leaving Ytran due to a Wraith fleet in orbit."
"I assume this copy of Atlantis is the city the humans found on one of the planets," Mikhail said. "The locals call it 'The Tower' because only the central spire sticks out of the ground."
"I lean towards the same conclusion," Trebal admitted. "Only the Lantians, Asuras, and Ytranci, as far as I remember, had city-ships like Atlantis. Asuras... We understand what's happening there. Nanites and all that."
"If the city crashed, then in ten thousand years, depending on the new planet's weather conditions, it could have been covered by soil," Chaya suggested. "But we haven't found anything like that on the planets where we sent scouts."
"Because we checked planets with mineral reserves," Mikhail said instructively. "I think we should take Ytran as a starting point and check planets with gates nearby. If there was a serious battle, they probably didn't fly far."
"Or they could have been damaged and fallen out of hyperspace on the other side of the galaxy," Trebal shrugged.
It seemed that she, like Chaya, found it convenient to switch the conversation to something else. Considering how it all started... Yes, it was terribly awkward.
"In any case, first we need soldiers, and then reconnaissance," Mikhail sighed. "For now, we'll limit ourselves to launching drones on planets near Ytran. As far as I remember, 'The Tower' still has a slightly charged MNT and a supply of ammunition, so we definitely won't find Wraiths there."
"That would be helpful," Chaya agreed. "I'll ask one of the technicians to handle this matter."
"Good job," Mikhail praised her, standing up from his chair. "Returning to your dialogue at the beginning."
Without a word, Chaya and Trebal turned pale.
"Don't underestimate 'primitive races'," Mikhail said. "Unlike you, who build your plans around genetics, they don't engage in such nonsense. And they look at life more realistically. Alva, for example, doesn't care that the Taranian's can hardly build him the fighter he flew on Ermen during his lifetime. But that doesn't stop him from getting close to Norina Pyro. They have fun, relieve stress. Although, by your standards, she's almost genetic trash and can't even correctly operate Lantian consoles. But Alva doesn't care—he's just happy with her."
The girls exchanged glances.
"I didn't almost drown during the flooding of Atlantis just to give this city to someone because they have better genetics than me or because they're as cool as a butcher from the VDV," Mikhail warned. "This is my city. And my people live in it. I am responsible for all of you. And I'm not going to, thanks to Alva and Kirik, abandon you. My old life, though I miss it, won't return. And most likely, if I try to do so, it will only get worse. And we have enough problems as it is."
Chaya heard Trebal exhale with relief, along with her. It seemed one problem was less.
At least for now, Misha's plans didn't include leaving for another universe.
"I don't know what plans Helya and the Ytranci might have, but if they go against ours, they don't belong here," Mikhail cut off. "Thank you, by the way, for warning me in advance that I was rushing you to find another eugenic bitch. I'm grateful," he put his hand to his heart. "A stone has fallen from my soul. This is especially pleasing when I remember how you both criticized me for not telling you everything. I'm sure you both lost sleep at night, tormented by the fact that you couldn't be open with me..."
"And that's humiliation," Trebal spat through her teeth.
"We deserved it," Chaya said quietly.
"You know, I've realized," Mikhail said. "Trebal is a choleric, and you, Chaya, are a phlegmatic. But no matter how much you deny it and snort at each other, you have a lot in common. I think, somewhere deep down, you both understand this. And that's why you're even more annoyed. Perhaps it's time to bury the hatchet and reconcile with your demons? After all, I've let go of my past. And I'm looking at the present, refuting the argument that not everyone can look to tomorrow. So, ladies, before you start shoving bombs into each other's beds, if you want to be near me, put a bridle on your old grievances and shake hands. Or even better—have dinner and talk like two people, not two competitors, okay? You are both dear to me, and your amusing squabble, though entertaining, is like scratching a mosquito bite—it feels good, but then it turns into a wound. Don't do that. We're doing one thing here, so to speak. Think about what I said."
With these words, Mikhail left the laboratory. Apparently, he was heading to talk to a Wraith.
When the door closed automatically, Trebal turned her head towards it and said, addressing the Proculucian:
"You know, some of what should have been said in this compartment, I still haven't heard."
"What exactly does 'want to be near me' mean?" Chaya clarified. "Cooperation or something more?"
"Then two things," Trebal said after thinking. "But you still haven't said what you're fighting for him for. And what he is to you. Don't tell me I'm misunderstanding everything and you're just colleagues. He might think that. Or be self-deceiving. I also thought at first that I just wanted to ensure stability for my people, but it turned out... It turned out," she corrected herself, "something else entirely."
"I don't know," Chaya said. "I... I don't fully understand what I want regarding him."
"But you must have some facts?"
"There's something," Sar admitted.
"And?"
"I don't know how close I want to be to him, but I know for sure that for such a man, one can give up Ascension."
Trebal fell silent, thinking about something of her own.
Then, apparently having made up her mind, she asked:
"Do we still have that thermonuclear Atozian wine?"