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 9
Arthur opened his eyes. There was a ceiling above him; it was white, with cobwebs in the corners and a round lamp hanging on a cord. He was lying in bed, undressed, covered by a thin sheet, and a ray of sunlight was stroking his face with its warm hand.
"Kay?" Arthur whispered.
The room was very small. The walls were covered in blue wallpaper, the only window was half-open, and cool air breezed through it. The only furniture in the room was the bed, a hard high-backed chair, and a low, wide, dark, polished dresser. The real wood didn't fit with the general shabbiness of the room, but Arthur had seen stranger places.
"Kay?" Arthur repeated louder, throwing the sheet off. He got to his feet, looked out the window, and moved the light tulle. The room was on the second floor, and he couldn't see anything except trees. Dark green leaves, fruit that looked like apples, yellow sunlight shining through the branches… Arthur shivered, either from the cold wind or from a bad feeling. This place was too similar to Terra.
His clothes lay on the chair. Arthur put on his jeans and went to the door. He touched the flaps, also wooden, which moved. At least he wasn't locked in. Very carefully, Arthur opened the door. Then he froze, when he heard an unfamiliar voice; it was cracked and old.
"I didn't like Maretta, no… Snow everywhere, how does one live? Last year, it snowed for two weeks here. They said it was because of a new base in the mountains. We thought it was the end, but no… The gardens froze over, we didn't even bother harvesting them, just plowed them into the soil and were done with them…"
"Really?! That is terrible…"
Arthur smiled and leaned on the doorpost. He'd recognized Kay's voice.
"You're used to it, of course. If you've managed to make it out of a sump, then it's clear. Nothing probably grows on your planet, right?"
"Nothing? We have reindeer moss, snow grapes, which we send to the Emperor himself."
"That's something," Kay's companion said without much conviction. "Of course, real fruit—"
"And our fish we send everywhere," Kay said enthusiastically. "If the business works out, then you can try it too."
"Will do," the owner of the old voice promised half-heartedly. "But you should offer our apples on Maretta—"
"We also gathered a lot of plankton this season!" Kay interrupted. And not just the top one… they're like tiny worms. We trawled the seabed, so much bottom plankton had spawned during the hot period! They're like… like cockroaches, but they live in the water. What's nice is they don't even die when dried out! Just throw them into a glass of water, give them time to soak, and those little devils will be swarming again!"
Arthur bit his lip to stop from laughing. There was another pause behind the door, then the stranger coughed and started humbly, "In my gardens—"
"Forgive me, but it's time for my food intake," Kay said with a sudden severity. "My faith does not allow me to perform this shameful act in the presence of outsiders."
"Ah… well, have a pleasant meal."
"Humiliation can't be pleasant," Kay stated sorrowfully.
Arthur heard quick steps shuffling away. Then the voice said, "If your son falls ill, rub him with some vinegar. It's the best remedy for a fever, trust me."
"I'll marinate him," Kay promised grimly.
The door slammed close fearfully. Arthur was shaking from a chortle.
"Come in," he heard from behind the door. "We'll eat together, while the food is still hot."
Arthur pushed the door. This room was far more spacious, with a soft rug covering the floor, a long sofa along the wall, a glass cabinet filled with dishes. Kay was sitting behind a round table in the middle of the room.
"Have you scared away the old man?" Arthur asked.
"Old woman. She's not one to scare away easily, a fighting grandma. She served as a midwife in the Imperial Marines."
"A what?"
"A midwife, son. There were plenty of women there. Good morning."
"Good morning, Dad." Arthur looked out the window. Trees, sunlight, a clear blue sky. "Where are we?"
"Tauri, exactly where we planned to be. The primary fruit supplier in this sector. We're from Maretta, selling fish and plankton."
"I already got that." Arthur tried to sit at the table, but Kay shook his head, "That door right there. Hygiene is the most important thing for a Marettan. Then the door next to it. There's a frying pan on the stove and cutlery in in the cabinet."
Arthur washed up quickly, went to the kitchen (wide open windows, showing gardens stretching to the horizon), and picked up a sizable frying pan from the stove. The stove turned out to be either extremely luxurious or very old, having an open flame.
"Bread too!" Kay shouted from the other room.
Putting the frying pan in front of Kay, Arthur made another attempt to sit next to him.
"A well-behaved young man must attend his father during a meal," Kay cooled him down. He removed the lid from the frying pan, revealing a fried fish. Based on the smell, it was very tasty. "You should stand behind me, to avoid seeing the repulsive act of chewing. Then you are permitted to eat the remains, without neglecting the bony pieces…"
Kay stood behind Kay obediently. He felt good. He was even prepared to eat the bony pieces.
"Sit," Kay said gently. "You can forget about being well-behaved; it's not like we eat in the presence of outsiders."
"Did we have to be from Maretta?" Arthur asked, picking up a piece.
"We could have come from Butis. But trust me, you would have liked your responsibilities even less."
They ate quickly, breaking the fresh loaf of bread and washing the fish down with salty water from a pitcher.
"Kay, I remember you carrying me a little…" Arthur hesitated but finished. "Thanks for saving me, but why did you take off my jacket?"
"So that I could put it on me, under mine," Kay answered calmly. "The synthetic fabric is pretty much one-size-fits-all, it's very convenient."
Arthur was silent.
"Kid," Kay held his chin, "the romantic books, where the weak are given the heroes' warm clothes, are all very nice. But I had to make it and carry you. Some light freezing wouldn't have done you any permanent harm; the doctors patched you up in twenty minutes, while you were still unconscious. It was more important for me to retain my mobility, since, otherwise, we would've ended up back on Terra. Don't you agree?"
"What are we going to do now?" Arthur asked instead.
"You're going to rest. I'm going to go to the capital to buy a ship. Quit making faces, they have a pretty good transportation network, I'll be done in half a day."
"I don't know anything about Maretta…"
"Water, ice, fish, trawlers. Looks like the compensator, where we found ourselves yesterday. Dominant ethnic groups: Kazakhs and Mongols. They're Asian cultures, very small in number. There are also Lithuanians and Latvians. I have no idea who they are. There's a small Meklar enclave; they run trawler repair shops. As for religion, they practice a local variant of the Unified Will, raising the prophet Nasar into a godlike figure."
"Is that all?"
"There's a terminal in my room, spare five minutes, take a look. See you."
Kay rose and slapped Arthur on the back. He headed for the door, calling back, "Don't go far from the house, there are gardens everywhere, you'll get lost."
"You're leaving?" Arthur exclaimed with a slight panic. Kay smiled from the door, "Artie, this is the safest planet in the Empire. I'll tell you everything tonight. For now, just trust me."
"There are no safe planets!" Arthur said grimly to the closed door.
