This is a fan translation of Line of Dreams (Линия грёз) by the Russian science fiction and fantasy author Sergei Lukyanenko. The novel can be considered a fan fiction of the original Master of Orion game.

Chapter 8

Inside, the wooden pavilion turned into a stone castle. The great hall reminded Kay of the Unified Will church he'd been taken to as a boy and caused odd feelings of trepidation and distaste. His legs kept stumbling in the dry reeds that covered the floor. The vaulted ceiling turned the rustling of the reeds and the sound of his footsteps into an even hum.

Curtis van Curtis was sitting at a round table, digging into a piece of fried meat with gusto. Noticing Kay, he rose slightly, "Take a seat, Kay! Out of respect for your morning adventures, we're having bear meat for dinner."

Smiling involuntarily, Kay sat at the table. He had no doubt that Curtis had been watching his training, he was only curious if that had indeed been a timer on the Bulrathi's arm, or if it had been Curtis who sent the signal that prevented the bloodshed.

"Did you like your instructor?"

"Never thought that a Bulrathi could die of pleasure."

"The sigmoid gland? Yes, they die experiencing pure ecstasy, assuming you have the strength to punch through their hide. Hormones, hormones… The old bear hasn't told you that, besides a layer of fat, his sigmoid is also protected by an implanted titanium plate. Otherwise, one of his students would have already killed him. Oh, how he loves that strike to the liver! It was his invention, and god knows how many captive humans had died until he mastered it… Pour yourself some wine, Kay."

Glancing at the bottle with a tender blue liquid, Kay shook his head, "May I pour myself some of yours, Curtis? I've become much more careful with my liver latterly."

"Help yourself, Kay."

Taking a sip of the viscous yellow wine, Kay shook his head. Yes, this was a good vintage.

"Curtis, is my trainer really that old?"

"The Bulrathi? Yes, he fought in the Vague War. He's my contemporary. Their religion forbids aTan, but this race lives long enough as it is."

"I know a lot about that war. They were allied with the Sakkra. They suppressed our planetary bases. If not for the Bulrathi, then the Sakkra wouldn't have lasted until the invasion of the Three Planets."

"Kay, please don't start remembering old grievances. Your world was scorched by big white frogs, not big brown bears. I'm not asking you to like your instructor, but you need the lessons with him. One more day of training, and then you can start practicing your cover story with my son. Oh, and here he is…"

Kay turned. From the open door, through which the sea and the sunlight were visible, Arthur van Curtis, his client, was walking towards them. His destiny.

Arthur was twelve… bio-years old, Kay corrected himself. He was a tanned black-haired teen. And his face was painfully familiar to Kay.

The sort of pain that only came from an algopistol…

Kay was lucky – van Curtis wasn't looking at him. He was smiling, looking at his sole heir; then again, did immortals even have heirs? The grimace was only on Kay's face for no more than a second; he was very good at surviving.

"Hi, Dad," Curtis Jr. said. "Hello, Kay. I know that you're one of the coolest bodyguards in the world. Will you be able to protect me?"

Only when Arthur Curtis was close did the similarity in appearance dissipate a little. He was a little younger than the boy who had killed Kay on Kailis. Just a little, but it was enough at this age. His clothes, a green silk tracksuit, had come from the hands of a top fashion designer, not from a factory for recycled plastic goods. Despite the younger age, he looked noticeably stronger and more muscular, since he came from money, which also meant the best food in the world, the best exercise equipment in the world, and the best coaches and masseurs. And his eyes held not the blind hatred of a hunted animal, but unwavering confidence and authoritativeness.

"I understand that I'm not at my best, everything isn't as we planned," Arthur continued. "But I drowned recently, sorry about that. Well, do you take the job?"

Curtis Sr. smiled wryly. Kay rose, took a step towards Arthur. Yes, he was younger. Yes, he was stronger. Yes, his gaze was different. But the rest hadn't changed.

"Do you know what a bodyguard is?" Kay asked, praying that his voice stayed even and impassive.

"Of course."

"Get down!"

Arthur continued to stand, looking at Kay. A push dropped him to the floor.

"If I tell you to get down, you get down," Kay said, standing over the lying boy. "If I tell you to jump, you jump. Because today is the only time I will say it without reason. Each time, your life will depend on it. Jump!"

Curtis Jr. jumped. Right from the floor. And froze in front of Kay.

"You shouldn't have hit my son," van Curtis said behind him. And Kay incredibly clearly felt a gun pointing at the middle of his back.

"Mr. van Curtis," Kay spoke without turning around, "you need a real bodyguard. I am prepared to work for you. But, a few days from now, I might not have a second to throw Arthur out of the line of fire. If I can, I will throw myself in front of him. But it would be better if he simply fell, giving me an opportunity to shoot. Don't you agree? Also, I didn't hit him. I pushed him. There's a difference."

"Perhaps," Curtis replied evenly. "Sit, both of you."

"Dad, Kay's a good bodyguard," Arthur said, as if nothing had happened, flopping into a chair next to his father, swinging his legs. "He's cool."

"Arthur?" Curtis spoke with a slight surprise. Kay chuckled and dug into his bear meat.

"I had fun hunting today," Arthur went on enthusiastically. "I killed that tiger."

"Congratulations," Curtis replied sourly.

"Dad, do people eat them?"

"What? Tigers? Their liver… I think."

"Yuck. I don't want to. Can you order another tiger, please?"

"All right. Calm down, Arthur!"

Kay was drinking the wine, genuinely enjoying the spectacle. He liked this castle, hidden behind a wooden gazebo. I liked Curtis Sr.'s nervousness.

"You know, Kay, according to legend, this used to be King Arthur's castle," Curtis said far too quickly. "And this very table was the fabled Round Table. I gave the castle to my Arthur on his birthday…"

"I've never heard of King Arthur or the Round Table," Kay replied.

"It's an ancient legend," Curtis livened. "Back before the first interstellar flights–"

"Dad, it's all nonsense," Arthur interrupted him. "This table could never fit a hundred and fifty warriors, especially ones wearing armor. But the story is nice, it even has many different characters. There was even a Kay. A minor hero."

He and Kay spent a moment looking at one another. Then Arthur stood from the table and kissed Curtis on the cheek.

"Can I go, Dad? I'm not hungry."

Kay waited for Arthur to leave and only then allowed himself to laugh, looking at Curtis's shocked expression.

"What's wrong, Kay?" he asked tiredly.

"I like your son, Curtis. A normal twelve-year-old. We're going to work well together."

"I hope you're kidding." Curtis allowed himself to relax. "He's a smart boy, but the shock of his first death is still present. Besides, you were right about the hormones. I checked with our doctors, he's definitely going to be a little infantile."

Kay nodded. He was walking on the edge, and he knew it. Arthur van Curtis, who, in his father's opinion, was not aware of their conversations, had been making fun of Kay. He was pretending to be a child, and he was definitely not one.

"We're going to be friends," Kay said, refilling his glass.