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 7
The hyperboat was nearly unrecognizable under all the gear the Family's technicians had strapped to it. The auxiliary drive cylinder made her look like a late twentieth century space shuttle. The containers with the stealth equipment had to have been set up in the habitation section, and Kay could only shake his head when imagining his ship's new aerodynamics.
"That's all I can do," Lyka said.
It was windy in the Canyons; a rainy season was starting in Gorra's southern hemisphere. Brown-green clouds were moving over the cliffs: water and fertile silt, picked up by hurricanes in the deltas of polar rivers. The granite field of the spaceport, large enough to receive cruisers, seemed abandoned long ago.
"Thank you," Kay said. He wasn't feeling well: his muscles ached, filled with cellular stimulants, his skin itched, soaked with ceroplastic. There was a sharp pain in his liver, which was tortuously trying to neutralize the foreign materials.
Kay Dutch wasn't used to feeling sick.
"Is this really so important to you?" Seiker asked.
"It is."
He looked at the woman who ruled the Family. He gave her a barely perceptible smile and received one in return.
"I can't tell you anything," Dutch said.
"You don't have to, Kay."
"You're going to have problems, Lyka."
"Don't think about them."
Kay Dutch touched her lips with a brief kiss and stepped towards the boat. He raised his hand, clenched into a fist with the thumb pointing to the side, and said, "Shedar."
"Shedar."
He went to the open hatch, while the woman stood there, wrapped in a short velvet jacket. Seiker didn't step back to outside the safety circle, and the boat lifted off ten paces from her, a black-and-gray metal hornet, ascending on the invisible pillar of a gravity field. The boat was moving vertically, and only the stone of the spaceport was crunching and crumbling. A hundred meters above the surface, the boat sagged a little – the pilot had disengaged the grav-drives, switching to plasma. Seiker continued to stand, staring at the fiery flower disappearing into the sky. When the boat punched through the clouds and vanished, she finally allowed herself to turn around.
Her personal assistant, a young girl whom she had pulled out of the Haxian slums five years ago, was standing next to her. The circle of the communicator on her head looked like an intricate decoration.
"The Eldest Son's ship will land in seven hours, Mother," the girl said.
Seiker nodded.
"I would presume to suggest..." There was nothing in the girl's eyes but adoration and alarm. "The commanding officer of the Equatorial Base is under our psych-control. If he acts in accordance with regulations, then the ship will never reach the planet."
Lyka shook her head.
"The Eldest Son is furious," the girl said quietly. "We went against the ISS and the Imperial Forces… he can call a Family Council."
"A mother doesn't kill her children," Seiker said. The girl's eyes finally displayed something akin to irony.
"But children can kill their mother?"
"It's their right."
Kay's boat had never been meant to carry six, either with respect to living space or life support resources. Fortunately, the Meklar and the cyborg required far less oxygen and food than the humans, and the flight was promising to be a short one.
The flunkies promised by Lyka had turned out to be two young men, who looked like two peas in a pod. They were either twins or a pair of damned arrogant clones. Kay had spoken to them a little, watched them pilot the boat, and then left them on the bridge with a light heart. The boys were well-prepared, it was just too bad they had chosen to join the Family.
The Meklar and the cyborg were sitting on the floor of the cabin. They were either communicating on frequencies inaccessible to humans or playing a game of some kind in virtual space, which was accessible to them like no one else.
"I have a question, Kas/s/is," Kay said. The reptile's ugly head turned to face him.
"One of our enemies is a Meklar. Does that bother you?"
"Do human enemies bother you?" he answered with a question of his own.
"All right. Another question. Your kinsman has an asynchrony of limb movements in his marching transformation. What does that mean?"
The Meklar was silent for a moment and then said, "Either someone was careless when melding his neural circuits, or he was intentionally enhancing his primary function."
"I don't understand," Kay admitted. The Meklar emitted an almost human sigh, "He had a shitty surgeon, okay? That's the first possibility. The second is that our opponent was trying to achieve maximum efficiency in one of his transformations. Possibly his combat transformation. He decided to ignore the small errors during normal movement, discomfort in his resting transformation, and others."
"So what does that give us?"
"The first gives me an advantage in combat. The second does the opposite."
"What about me?"
"For you, it's all the same," the Meklar informed him confidently. "If you don't manage to shoot him first, then he'll crush you either way."
"Thanks."
"Don't mention it."
"Are the two of you going to be able to rest here?"
"Of course." Sensing that the conversation was over, Kas/s/is turned back to the cyborg, who hadn't said a word in all this time.
…In his bedroom, Kay chased Tommy off the bed, put a thin mattress on the floor, and grabbed clean sheets from the wardrobe. He told the boy, "You're going to sleep on the floor, okay?"
Tommy wasn't surprised by this lack of hospitality. However, he was amazed by Kay's obvious intentions.
"We're going to fight soon!"
"We? 'Our flight is over,' as the fly said in a cargo hold." Kay chuckled, making himself comfortable. "Your task will be to avoid getting shot. As for the fighting, it's not for another eleven hours."
Tommy hemmed, lying on the mattress obediently. He asked, "Aren't you scared?"
"I am. Boat!"
"I hear you, buddy," said a raspy voice from the ceiling.
"What do you think about those pilots?"
"They're all right. The one who went to sleep was better. But the other one isn't bad either. Jealous?"
"For God's sake, have fun… What about the tin cans they attached to you?"
"The drive is a little dumb but obedient. The stealth system is arrogant… we'll see how it works."
"We'll see," Kay agreed. "Turn off the lights. And wake me up in eight hours… or if the boy tries to kill me."
"Just let him try," the boat promised grimly. "Good night, Master."
Strangely enough, Kay only managed to fall asleep half an hour later, when Tommy was already breathing evenly, worn down by fatigue. Kay was scared, and his skin was very itchy.
