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

Chapter 2

Rachelle came to Henrietta three days after their argument. The weather was still bad: icy squalls and brief downpours, which were finishing off what was left of the harvest. This time, though, those really were due to malfunctions with the climatizer, since the balance of supply and demand had already been restored.

"I brought you some apples," the girl stated without a preamble. "We still have a few, and your garden has been wiped clean."

The old woman, who was in the middle of a fairly unusual task, disassembling an ancient Career laser pistol, put the weapon aside. She gazed at Rachelle thoughtfully.

"And here I thought you were going to be upset for a week…"

"I'm not upset at all. I just disagree with you."

"Sit. No, first takes the apples to the kitchen. And turn on the oven."

When Rachelle returned several minutes later, the laser pistol had vanished somewhere, with a coffee pot on a tray taking its place.

"Ask," the old woman said good-naturedly. "I can see all your wishes on your face, girl."

"How do I get into the Bodyguard League?"

Henriette produced a strange sound, sort of like a half-chuckle and a half-sigh, "Very simply. When you become a legal adult in two years, then you can file an application at the local League branch, pay the fee, and join the C category. If you earn fifty difficulty points in a year, then you're transferred to the O category, making you a full-fledged member of the League. Another hundred points makes you G category. And so on until you reach the K category, the twelfth and highest of them."

"What do those letters mean?"

"K is for keeper, G is for guardian, O is for observer…"

"What about C?"

"Cannon fodder."

Rachelle was silent.

"Only about forty percent move to O category from C. The rest pay the cancellation fee… or die."

"So Kay's in the K category?"

"No. He's among the top hundred, those are the named categories. Unless I'm mistaken, his category is D."

"Death?" the girl raised her gaze.

"Exactly. Smart girl. There are only three named categories. A for angel, M for monster, and D for death. They characterize a bodyguard's established style."

"You won't talk me out of it."

"I have no intention of doing that. If you want to join the League, I can even help you train. I myself have the honorary K category. You can learn much in the League… but it won't help you find Kay."

"We'll see…"

There was a quiet and polite knock at the door. Henrietta frowned.

"I think I've started babbling… Or lost the hearing in my old age. Open it."

Rachelle rose, turning to the door, but it was already opening. Henrietta wasn't moving, having merely lowered her hand into her knitting basket.

Kay Altos, member of the League, D category, stood at the door, along with a slim dark-haired young man, who seemed vaguely familiar to Rachelle. Both were wearing shorts and light shirts, which were always appropriate on Tauri, except for days like this. Both were soaking wet.

"You'll probably have a long life, Altos," Henrietta said, taking her hand out of the basket.

"I doubt it, Madam Colonel. By the way, I'm Dutch to my friends."

"Really? Well then," the old woman got out of her chair carefully. "I guess I'll agree to call you that… Hello, Arthur."

The young man shook his head.

"This isn't Arthur," Kay examined Rachelle with a fixed gaze. He chuckled, noticing her silver ring. "Hello, partner. You've grown… Rach."

The girl nodded weakly. A smile, as uncertain as a winter dawn, quivered on her face, "Hello…"

"Let me give you a hug, I guess…" Henrietta hobbled over to Dutch. "I must admit… I'm amazed."

She patted Dutch on the shoulder and inquired snidely, "How's the fish on Maretta? Still biting?"

"We've come from Jienakh," Kay carefully took the old woman's hand and touched it with her lips. "Colonel, I need your help."

"Just you?"

"No. The Empire. Our race. The world is crumbling… Madam Kahowski."

"I haven't heard words like that in a long time… or that name," the woman's voice grew icy. "I'm an old woman, a citizen of a quiet planet."

"Now is not the time to play games, Colonel Kahowski. War is coming… worse than the Vague War."

Rachelle tore her gaze away from Kay, with difficulty, and looked at Fiscalocci, whom he kept stubbornly calling Kahowski. The old woman's wrinkled face was trembling, "What are you talking about, Dutch? You don't know that war."

"I know the future. Wake up, Wanda. I beg you."

Kahowski chewed on her lips. Then she said grimly, "You're leaving a puddle on the floor, Kay. Got caught in the rain?"

"It appears to be a Tauri custom to greet me with bad weather."

"You're not that important… Do you remember where you stayed the last time?"

"Yes."

"Go get changed. There should be clothes your size in the room. What's your name, boy?"

"Tommy."

"Are you Arthur's brother?"

Tommy and Kay exchanged glances. Dutch nodded.

"I'm a result of a false aTan. A copy of Arthur… a copy of the clone of Curtis van Curtis."

"Gods…" Wanda's hand came up to her lips, a gesture that was almost genuine. "What else? No… go and get changed."

Kay nodded. When walking past Rachelle, who hadn't moved a muscle, he touched her forehead with his lips.

"I'm going to go insane," the old woman said, watching them walk up the stairs. "Or maybe I already have."