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 3
Kay went to bed for the third time that day. Curtis van Curtis had insisted that aTan's recreation rooms did not have any surveillance equipment. But Kay still prostrated himself on the floor and spent half an hour thanking the Unified Will for his new life. Then he spent several minutes explaining to Arthur, who kept nodding off, that what had happened to them was a valuable life lesson.
Only after that did he allow himself and Arthur to go to sleep.
Judging by the clock, it was morning, but all the windows were covered by a force field. Kay searched for a switch, didn't find it, and went to the bathroom. He scraped away the stubble with a disposable razor and took a shower. Then he awoke Arthur and sent him to wash up.
Breakfast was brought to them: sausages with mashed potatoes, salad, a pair of toasts each, jam in tiny jars, and coffee. They ate silently; the time for comedy was over, it was time to work.
"Something's not right…" Arthur said, finishing his coffee. Kay glared at him, and the boy fell silent.
At the aTan shop, two floors below their recreation room, they bought normal clothing. Smiling benignly, Kay permitted "his son" to buy expensive jeans and sneakers, but, when it came time to choose shirts, socks, and underwear, he went with the cheapest selections. Kay then spent half an hour choosing a suit for himself. He couldn't settle on the price, style, fabric, planet of the manufacturer…
"It's cold outside. Rain. It's autumn here," the saleswoman noted, having seen worse customers.
Kay gave up and bought Arthur a nice jacket. For himself, he chose a dark raincoat and a local cap. Then he gave the woman an ingratiating smile, "I occasionally use trab…"
"Are you an officially-registered drug user?"
"Of course!" Mr. Ovald replied indignantly.
"Then you get a twenty percent discount. Do you prefer green or black?"
"Green," Kay decided.
Arthur frowned.
"All right… now to weapons…" Kay headed to the glass case he had noticed long ago.
"You can only look in the yellow sector," the saleswoman warned them. "Red is for Imperial service officers and professional bodyguards."
Kay, who was about to reach for his favorite Bumblebee, froze. He had forgotten this detail.
The yellow sector contained low-power weapons, which were only good for fighting off street hoodlums. A dozen stunner models, which only really differed in their design, needle pistols, incapable of punching through armor, grav-clubs, ultrasonic shock grenades…
Arthur and Kay exchanged glances. This could spell failure. A professional could use any weapon, but he only really worked well with two or three preferred ones.
"Excuse me, which sector holds the Convoy?" Kay inquired carefully.
The Convoy was a low-power laser pistol. A shot from it only caused painful but shallow burns, in order to stop an opponent. But the law delicately kept silent about the fact that the gun had a decent power supply and a high rate of fire. In automatic mode, a series of laser pulses could cut through a human in two seconds.
"Convoy?" The girl checked with the list. "Yellow sector."
They bought two Convoys, power clips for them, a few shock grenades, a needle pistol for Arthur, and a grav-club for Kay. Strangely, the salesgirl didn't seem surprised at such unexpected militancy.
At the exit to the city, the young thanatologist caught up to them.
"Are you going to renew your aTan?"
"Not yet, finances, you understand…" Kay spread his hands.
"Are you sure?"
"Unfortunately."
"You can get your identification and orientation brochures at the guard station," the being declared dryly, leaving them alone. "The languages in use on the planet are Standard, Russian, German, and Korean. The aTan Corporation wishes you happiness and health."
They took their brand-new IDs and thin gray brochures with the description of the planet. The guards opened the armored doors, and Kay and Arthur exited into a hallway, a long dark corridor that led from the company's underground facilities to the planetary surface. The sun could be vaguely seen in the distance.
"I know what was wrong," Arthur said unexpectedly. "Breakfast should consist of local produce. Except…"
"Except what?"
"Except when it's dangerous."
"Look in the brochure." Kay took out his Convoy, slid the safety to automatic fire mode. "I don't know much about Incedios."
"I do." Arthur stopped. "You should've asked me, Daddy. A civil war has been raging her for three months. They're using bio-weapons."