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.


Part VI

Immortality for a Pauper

Chapter 1

"I took the liberty of waking you up," the ship said. Kay opened his eyes.

He was in his boat, the most accustomed and dear place in the universe. He no longer had a home, so he had created one himself. An Imperial citizenship and a personal planet ten meters in diameter.

"Did something happen?" he asked.

"No, but it's noon, local time." The ship's voice was dry and prim. Kay grimaced but said nothing.

The cold shower took away the weariness, and the razor did the same for his stubble. Then Kay changed, deliberately and tastefully selecting new clothing: a beige sports-style suit, which he wore only in the first few months after aTan, a white shirt, which was two orders of magnitude more expensive than a regular one, but could deflect a medium-power laser beam, and soft-leather shoes.

"You look great, master."

"I know. Is the boy awake?"

"Not yet. He's in the middle of REM sleep. Shall I wake him up?"

"Just unlock the door. Should I wear a tie?"

"Of course. Shall I read you something from the classics?"

"Playing a butler? What have you been reading?"

The ship was silent.

"Read," Kay agreed. "But don't forget about breakfast."

"Thank you for your trust. Your sausages yesterday were terrible."

"What?!"

"Nothing," the boat replied quickly. "Please allow me to suggest an original late twentieth century novel, describing mystical events in the city of—"

"Hold on." Kay was thoughtfully examining two ties, as if unable to decide which one to wear.
"Remember, a month ago, you started reading a novel about a pilot, who crash-landed in the desert? Continue that one."

"You ordered me to erase the text," the boat declared coldly.

"As if you listened!"

"I did."

"Then the text is in your RAM. Restore is and continue."

"Very well. Now then, we stopped at the moment the pilot awakened a thousand miles from the nearest habitation. I daresay that this is a clear exaggeration. His flying craft had been damaged—"

"I remember, read." Kay sat in a chair, having finally settled on a dark-gold tie. The boat's voice turned into a soft tenor, "When a mystery is too overpowering, one dare not disobey. Absurd as it might seem to me, a thousand miles from any human habitation and in danger of death…"

Upon awakening, Tommy Arano lay in bed for a long time, unwilling to get up. He didn't know how long his captivity would last. When the boy had finally decided to try the door and found it unlocked, he was surprised by this at least as much as by the fact that he was still alive.

Kay Altos sat in a chair, now looking more like a young teacher than a hired thug. The ship, whose voice sounded incredibly sad to the boy, broke off in the middle of a sentence, "On one star, one planet, my planet, the Earth…"

"Go wash up," Kay told Tommy. "There's a bag in the bathroom with a toothbrush and a towel."

Tommy nodded and crossed the room, trying not to get too close to Altos. Unable to restrain himself, he asked, "Why does your ship keep changing its voice?"

"It hasn't settled on a consciousness yet," Kay said in a completely serious voice. "It's not clear on its gender, age, and social status."

The boy chose not to ask any more questions on the topic.


Darian Arano, an employee of the Kailis Department of Conservation, did not go to work that day. He figured that the remains of the planet's nature wouldn't suffer too much from that, and his position as a water monitoring inspector permitted such liberties. He was reclining on a low wide couch, watching the TV screen with indifference and munching on salted nuts. The beer in his large plastic bottle had grown warm and disgusting, but he was too lazy to get another one from the fridge. The public channel was showing a government-paid program called Seven Minutes on the Beautiful Life.

"Here's what I think," an old lady was speaking from the screen with a smile. The lady was wearing a luxurious but not fitting biosilk dress, while behind the lady was a superimposed background, showing a luxurious mansion in the mountains. "There will come a time, soon, when our youth will no longer strive to move to other planets. Girls and boys will stop jumping into bed with every Taurian tourist, our scientists will no longer try to go to Endoria. On the contrary! To become a resident here will become the dream of all humans on all planets of the Empire! All we have to do is roll up our sleeves. And work, work, instead of dreaming. That's what I think."

Darian's wife Galya came out of the kitchen. She threw a glance at her husband, then wordlessly took a bottle of beer from the fridge and placed it next to him. He accepted this sign of spousal care and understanding with a brief but tender smile. He asked, "Tell Luke to turn down his music."

Galya nodded. She sat down next to him, staring at the screen, where a young officer was discussing the beautiful life against the (badly superimposed) backdrop of a sports flyer. She asked, "Do you think Tommy will come?"

"Where else is he going to go?" Darian grumbled, opening the bottle.

"This never happened to him before…"

"He probably found himself a girlfriend. Or was partying with friends from school. Not our blood…"

"Darian!"

"What, I'm not saying anything…" Arano took a gulp of the beer. "A good deed… is rewarded."

Galya left silently. The door to their eldest son's room slammed, and the roaring of the asynchronous music subsided reluctantly. Darian was watching the screen, where, against the backdrop of a desk, which was falling slightly outside of 3D screen's image, a charming woman was speaking, "We don't need other people's beauty. We're not going to look up to Terra or Galatea, this comes out of the common mentality of Kailis. The stage of the planetary emergence is over, I'm telling you this as a social psychologist. Ahead of us is our inevitable flourishing."

Darian was patiently waiting for the promised Endorian detective movie to start. It wouldn't be fair to say that the sensational film, outrageously expensive to rent on video, had caused him to stay at home more than the disappearance of his adopted son. But two incentives were always better than one, right?

There was a chime by the front door. The late-model security system (this type of technology was well-developed on Kailis and was even exported) informed him, "Tommy has arrived. Unarmed. He is accompanied by a middle-aged man, physically well developed. Armed."

Emitting a warning trill, the system fell silent for a moment. Then it added, "There are many weapons, identification is made difficult by a localized nullifier. I will be unable to resist. Shall I call the police?"

Darian jumped to his feet, splashing the beer. He approached the door, where Galya was already standing, giving her husband a helpless smile. The system's screen was showing Tommy, who looked very grim and collected. Next to him, brushing off unseen specks of dust from his suit, stood a man, who looked to be about thirty.

"What has he gotten himself into?" Darian hesitated, studying the stranger. The security system was doing its job, recording everything, and Tommy didn't look too scared.

"Maybe he's from the Authority," Galya peered into her husband's face bashfully. The Public Order Authority was far more respected on Kailis than Imperial Security.

"Open," Darian ordered. The door slid to the side, revealing a dirty stairwell with the blue armor of the doors to the neighboring apartments.

"Mom," Tommy said, when Galya hugged him. The man gave Darian a brief nod and asked, "May I enter?"

"Who are you?" Darian was not in a hurry to let him in. The stranger's figure reminded him with ruthless candor about his own recently grown beer belly and the infrequent trips to the gym. His gaze was far too cocky.

"A friend of Tommy's."

The boy, gripping his mother, turned, glanced at the man, wanted to say something, but ended up staying silent.

"Uh-huh," Darien said. "Interesting. Come in."

The man refused neither a beer nor a cigar, causing Darian to feel an even greater dislike towards him. After taking a sip and leaving the cigar to smolder in the ashtray, he introduced himself, "Kay Altos. Attack and defense specialist."

Nearly choking on his beer, Arano said, "Darian, ecologist."

"Excellent, we're almost colleagues." Kay glanced at Galya, who was examining him with obvious hostility. "Forgive me for the night's excitement, the boy and I needed to have a talk."

Darian was trying desperately to keep a conversational tone, "This is not a safe neighborhood, Mr. Altos. There was an incident last night, two dozen teenagers ended up in a hospital."

"Any dead?" Kay inquired sympathetically.

"No… all of them are alive."

"Probably the work of a specialist."

Arano added two and two and wasn't too pleased with the result.

"How may we be of service?"

"Just one small question." Kay was extremely courteous. "How much did you get for adopting Tommy and pretending to be his parents?"

Darian realized that this was his one chance to show Kay the door. But what had happened to the neighborhood punk kids wouldn't leave his mind.

"What nonsense is this?"

"Madam…" Kay turned to Galya. "I think you were decent parents to the boy. But he has a real family and a real place in life."

"I am his mother," Galya said quickly. "We lost our daughter recently, and no one is going to take away my son."

For some reason, Kay Altos looked away. Then he turned to Darian again, "Sooner or later, your eldest son or your former acquaintances will let something slip. Or the boy will start to wonder why you don't have his childhood photos or videos…"

"Tommy, go to your room!" Galya raised her voice.

"He can't." Kay lifted his hand, demonstrating the force handcuffs. It was a popular enough item in detective and action movies to mistake it for something else. Galya gasped and grabbed Tommy's hand.

"There is nothing criminal in your actions, just the opposite," Kay continued. "But working for the Silicoid Foundation…"

"What?" Darian screamed.

"Unfortunately, the boy's memories were wiped by aliens. You are their unwitting… I hope… accomplices. I could convince the ISS or the Public Order Authority of this, if you wish. But why bother? Give me an honest answer, and I'll leave. I give you my word. How much did you get?"

"This apartment and five hundred in Imperial currency." Darian did not hesitate. When it came to dislike for aliens, the President of Kailis was even more zealous than the Emperor himself.

"Not much," Kay said, standing up. "Then again, true good is selfless, isn't it?"

He took the bracelet off his wrist and threw it on the floor. He lifted Tommy's chin and looked into his eyes. Galya did not dare intervene.

"Now you know that I was telling you the truth." It was as if there was no one else but the two of them in the room to Kay. "It's up to you to decide what to do with it. I need a partner, not a slave on a leash. I'll be waiting for you downstairs in the car for three hours. Decide."

"I'm not letting him go anywhere!" Galya screamed. "He's still my son! I'll lock the door, and you can rot in your car!"

"If the boy can't leave of his own volition, then he's of no use to me," Kay shrugged. "Please calm down."

He went to the front door, which opened very quickly, as if the security system was waiting impatiently for him to leave. At the threshold, Kay turned and said, "Tommy! Galaxy, power, life. Decide."


Staring at the rain through the windshield, Kay ate the three sandwiches made by his boat. He smoked two slightly drugged cigarettes from the pack someone had left in the car. Kay didn't like the cigarettes, since his body rejected many drugs; it was one of the side effects of his nervous system, restructured even before his birth.

Two and a half hours later, Tommy came out of the high-rise box, where he had lived for the only year of his conscious life, and approached the car. He had a bag over his shoulder but was not wearing his jacket, just those same jeans and a thin black shirt, which got soaked within seconds. Kay turned on the heat in the car and unlocked the door.

"Altos, I want to make a condition," the boy said, continuing to stubbornly stand under the rain.

"I'm Dutch to my friends. Go ahead."

"Swear that you won't kill me."

Kay merely sighed, "It's becoming my oath to the entire Curtis family. I won't kill you, get in."

Tommy got into the back seat, turning the opening of the heater towards him. The Mizan accelerated.

"Does the eye hurt?" Kay inquired.

Tommy rubbed the fresh bruise under his eye and shook his head, "No… not a lot."

"You have a high pain threshold," Kay said. "This is the only thing that consoles me when I think of Arthur."

"Kay, he… my double… is he good?"

"He's very miserable. He's probably good."

"What about…"

"Curtis van Curtis is a man within himself. He's more complicated than aTan."

Kay fell silent, and only when Tommy lay back in the seat and started to nod off, did he finish, "It would be nice to know what the old man has planned and which of these events have been thought up a month or a century ago."