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 10
"Was dying painful?" Tommy asked. Kay threw him a glance, while continuing to drive the car.
"As if you didn't notice."
The kid kept trying to be brave. He was overcome by that reckless state that frequently gripped adults facing death and that almost never visited children.
"I noticed. You were screaming like a wounded gayal. Worse even."
"Very clever," Kay agreed. "Your voice isn't likely to be any louder."
The Angobad downtown was now far behind them, then the spooky hovels of the outskirts vanished too. Only occasionally, tall fences of mansions stretched along the road, beyond which warm windows could be seen. Tommy watched their light move past with a sorrowful gaze. The Mizan was moving at full speed, at times taking over the controls so delicately that it seemed as if Kay was handling all the difficulties of the wet unlit highway himself.
"Rented a house in the suburbs?" Tommy asked. Altos did not reply. The boy leaned forward carefully.
"I wouldn't advise it," Kay said without turning. "You've already admitted that you can't choke me."
The rain kept on pouring, erasing the last traces of the day. Tommy, cowering in the back seat, was looking at the broad back of Altos's head. If only he had something heavier than a binder, he would have risked it.
"I thought you were lying about aTan," he admitted suddenly. "It happens in the movies a lot, a bad guy spreads a rumor that he has aTan, so everyone is afraid of him."
"Life isn't movies. It's much worse, kid."
"I still don't regret it. I avenged Lena. Someone will avenge me."
"It's possible."
Tommy shivered, "Why did you call for an ambulance at the school? You don't like kids. Plus, they said on TV that you're a sadistic hitman."
"They tried to protect their dumb friend. That deserves respect, don't you think? We're here, by the way…"
The car slowed down and approached a concrete wall. The token height of the fencing, beyond which long rows of hangars could be seen, was more than compensated for by force field emitters set up along the wall. The defenses were turned off at the moment, since it used up too much power during rain in standby mode. Kay stopped the car next to the transparent guard booth; its shield was on.
"I'll scream," Tommy said quickly.
"Go ahead," Kay agreed, activating the communicator.
"You are entering the area of the Kailis Cargo and Passenger Spaceport," a bored voice said. "What is the purpose of your visit?"
"Help!" Tommy shouted. As if not noticing that, Kay said, "My ship is parked in Hangar 17."
"Initial passcode?"
"Help! He's going to kill me!" Tommy was straining.
"Domino, thirty, alpha, seven," Kay stated.
"Thank you for using our service," the guard said. "Please drive along the light beam."
"Please help me…." the boy whispered. Kay switched off the communicator leisurely and entered the now-open gates. He said, "Rain, mud, no need to inspect… The car's communicator is calibrated to my voice, dummy. It filters out background noise."
The car started moving slowly along the hangars, following a point of orange light. Tommy remained silent.
"I already drove a guy like that once," Kay informed him. "He'd annoyed me by wounding a client. I'm a bodyguard, not a hitman. There's a slight difference… As for that gentleman, I tied him up under the boat's engines and took off."
The kid produced a sobbing sound.
"Don't worry, your fate is far more interesting than that," Kay reassured him. At Hangar 17, Kay spoke another code, to a machine this time. The big doors slid apart, and the car drove inside. Light came on from a long white panel on the ceiling.
"We're almost home," Kay said, relaxing in his seat. He realized that he'd managed to forget his boat and was missing it.
Hyperboats had first appeared ten years prior, after the invention of the reajax drive, which required less room than the far cheaper interphased drive. Kay's boat was already a little obsolescent, but it was a tough model, having come out of the Endorian shipyards, the best in the Empire. The habitation section, an oval ten meters in length, was attached to the drive system, a sphere of a slightly smaller diameter, by two long trusses. Between them was the cylinder of the quark reactor. Some people painted their boats with the colors of their planets or with the Imperial bicolor. Kay preferred simple colors: gray and black. But they had been applied to the hull under the guidance of an experienced designer, giving the peaceful craft the false appearance of a small warship.
"Hey, fella," Kay said, rolling down the window.
"Hey, stranger," a low contralto came from the ship. "You look like my owner."
"I am him," Kay replied.
"Are you lying?" The pitch went up and took on the tone of a nagging wife.
"I'm not!"
"Maybe you'll even tell me the passcode?" the ship inquired insinuatingly.
"Easy as pie!"
"Fine, come on in, sluggard," the boat agreed in a pure lyrical soprano. A ramp slid smoothly out of the craft.
Kay opened the door and told Tommy proudly, "She ought to sing in the Aida, don't you agree? A former singer set the voice… out of love for the arts."
The boy couldn't care less for the hyperboat's vocal capabilities at the moment. He got out of the car and looked around helplessly. The hangar was empty, except for the tall distribution terminal in the far corner. The hoses and the cables were coiled together carefully, but the controls were still lit up. There was probably a phone there, but the handcuffs meant that he had zero chance of reaching it.
"Keep up," Kay said, heading for the ramp.
"Shall I let the boy in too?" the ship wondered.
"Yeah, I guess you kind of have to…"
"I'm not really asking to," Tommy said in a last-ditch effort to be brave. Kay burst out laughing.
Compared to the freighter's passenger module, the hyperboat was the epitome of comfort, but, unlike Arthur, Tommy couldn't appreciate it. The quarters would probably be more suitable for a typical liner than a tiny craft like that. A soft rug on the floor, chairs, a stand made of crystal and dark wood, a few fragile tables. There were even flowers in a vase on one of them… withered ones.
"You've been gone for quite a while this time," the boat informed him, when Kay glanced at the bouquet with a look of displeasure. "By the way, the local networks reported you dead."
"Wouldn't be the first time." Kay took out the bouquet and threw it into a ceramic container on the floor. The container started rumbling.
"They also said that the killer was a thirteen-year old boy, just like our guest, I see."
"If I haven't been the one to calibrate your logic, then I'd have to consider you sentient," Kay said.
"Thank you," the ship replied dryly, once again changing the pitch to a baritone.
Kay looked at Tommy. He was standing by the closed entrance, helplessly tugging at the bracelet on his wrist. Kay sighed and opened his half of the handcuffs. The bracelet on Tommy's hand clicked and fell. The boy jerked.
"So, what are we going to do now… murderer?" Kay asked. "Slowly push you into a recycler, glue you to the nozzles, cut you up into tiny pieces, hit you with an algopistol, or flog you?"
Tommy's lips quivered. He was crying.
"Aw," Kay said with a disappointed expression. "The Silicoid is sick from oxygenated planets… Same but not quite."
"What… what do you want?"
"Go through that door, there's a shower there. Wash yourself, I can't stand looking at you, all covered in mud and snot…"
"Why?"
"I prefer to kill freshly-washed children," Kay said. "Occasionally, I even make them dinner. Go. Put your clothes into the cleaning unit, you can take them out in ten minutes."
He turned and left through the door that opened in front of him into the small control room, lit up by the lights of awakening consoles.
