This is a fan translation of Shadows of Dreams (Тени снов) by the Russian science fiction and fantasy author Sergei Lukyanenko. The novella takes place in the same setting as Lukyanenko's Line of Dreams (Линия грёз) and Emperors of Illusions (Императоры иллюзий) novels and can be considered a fan fiction of the original Master of Orion game.
Chapter 4
Traitors and Heroes
The Psilons were a physically weak race.
I'd heard that even a human child could kill an adult Psilon without too much trouble.
There were also very few of them. Every Psilon female produced no more than three offspring over her lifespan, which was due to the fact that there were only three ova in their bodies.
But the Psilons never tried to win through physical strength or numbers.
The assault boat landed approximately a kilometer away from us. We were lying on the concrete, gripping our weapons, staring at the gray ovoid ship, surrounded by iridescent shields. We couldn't possibly hope to punch through these defenses using handheld weapons.
Marines began to deploy.
Even in their battle suits they didn't look particularly fearsome. About two meters in height… just regular armor. But if humans attempted to create an armor with that kind of gear, it would end up weighing at least ten tons. Even now we didn't have portable quark reactors that powered the Psilon marines and "flowing" force fields that allowed them to move easily.
There were ten of them. They spread out in a line and started moving towards us. Easily, right out in the open, maybe really not noticing us under our capes, or maybe simply ignoring us as inconsequential.
"Alpha and Gamma defenders are to prepare for battle!" Ogarin barked. "Open fire on the orders of your commanding officers. Guard post defenders will open fire on my command!"
We lay there motionless. Occasionally I glanced at my neighbors, trying to make them out, sometimes at the lazily approaching marines. Would the renowned Ultimatum's antiproton blast really be unable to punch through their defenses? Would a Chance's laser volley truly go to waste?
The Psilons' upper limbs were moving rhythmically. They were swaying their arms when walking just like humans did.
Come on, come on… Uncle Grigory, why were you delaying? The enemy was maybe three hundred meters away, I could even hit them with my blaster…
And at that moment the Psilons fired.
They beat us to the punch again.
A quick flourish of flaming lines, maybe plasma blasts, maybe something else… I shook my head, stunned, while the Psilons continued their calm approach. Then I glanced right and froze.
Where Semetsky had been lying a moment ago, there was now a black plasma circle. The melted barrel of the Ultimatum was sticking out of it vertically, having not made a single shot.
I stared at that strange memorial for a moment. The treacherous weapon that couldn't hide under a Chameleon…
Then I pulled out my blaster.
"Don't succumb to provocation!" I heard Kononov's voice. It seemed that he could also contact our suits.
Provocations?!
"Screw you, Uncle…" I said.
I aimed at one of the Psilons, did it really matter which one? Then I pulled the trigger.
That was all everyone seemed to need.
The air was afire under the blasts of five hundred weapons.
"Aaaaaaah!" came a scream almost next to me. Without ceasing fire, I glanced there in complete certainty that Olga Nonova was dying.
Not even close!
The brave teacher was standing at full height, ignoring both our haphazard shots and the Psilons' return fire. The Chance in her hands was moving left and right, laser beams were striking the ground like whips. I had no idea what was keeping her safe. Maybe the very same fortune that I always lacked, or maybe her insane bravery.
"Take it! Take it all, aliens!" Olga was screaming. Her eyes were gleaming. Who'd be able to recognize her as a peaceful elementary school teacher now? Even if her firing was utterly ineffective—she held the barrel too low, so she ended up just burning the concrete in front of her—but her very example made me feel proud for humankind!
There was a sudden explosion in the Psilon line. Someone's shot must have penetrated a marine's defenses! The grotesque figure jerked, broke in half, and collapsed…
"There you go!" Olga shouted, assuming this to be her work.
The Psilons retaliated without delay. They clearly realized that we had the numbers and ceased independent firing. But now a small red cloud flared into life in front of every figure.
I had no idea what it was.
But Uncle Grigory did.
"Retreat! Now!" he screamed. "Organized retreat… First and second platoons, go left… Third and fourth, go right!"
What platoons? While we'd been walking, Grigory tried to split us up into units, and I even recalled being assigned to the fourth platoon… Except running towards the right, while rounding the crater in the place of the bunker, was sheer suicide. After all, we hadn't taken up our positions with that in mind…
Meanwhile, the red clouds in front of the Psilons merged, stretched into a crimson stripe, and moved forward towards us like a malevolent mist.
This was probably the first time I'd ever ignored Uncle in my life.
I ran left.
Next to me were running the brave Nonova, waving her heavy Chance around as if it were a pointer, Artem and Anne, while behind me was another dozen people.
Our entire position broke. Only a few people, having maybe not heard Kononov's order in the heat of battle, remained in their places. We heard the sounds of shooting until the stripe of the crimson mist rolled over them.
Then everything fell silent.
"Bastards!" Anne Eiko screamed in a high-pitched voice. "They had no right to use the 'creeping shield'."
God, she really was just a child! What rights in a war?
Only a few minutes had passed, and our scattered crowd was already a kilometer away from the bunker. The figures of the Psilons were moving measuredly towards the bunker, ignoring the occasional shots from this distance. Now they were going to check the flaming remains, and then…
Then they were going to go finish us off.
Their movement speed wasn't much faster than ours. But their weapons had greater range. And they could walk like this for hours, maintaining the same speed, since it was armor doing all the work, not their own legs.
I slowed my pace and then stopped. Only the children and Olga Nonova followed my example, while everyone else continued to run.
"Anne, what are you planning on doing?"
I had no doubt that they couldn't care less about the planet and Ogarin's orders.
The girl threw a contemptuous glare at me, but then her demeanor changed.
"We need to hide. The fight is lost, that much is clear."
I nodded. There was no sense arguing the obvious.
"They're going to start combing the spaceport. We need to lay low, and when the Loredan lands and starts to unload its equipment, we'll try to get to our yacht. We can try to flee. And maybe even continue the regatta."
"I don't give a shit about your regatta!" I exclaimed.
Anne Eiko shrugged.
"So what? You have another chance. Except now in addition to the carrot you also have a stick."
Crazy kids…
I glanced at Artem.
No, the boy didn't seem to be crazy. I could read sadness, fear, and revulsion in his eyes… but there were also filled with pleading.
Why was he afraid of dying so much?
Children didn't yet realize what death was. He was too young to fear like that.
And yet he was afraid.
I glanced at the columns of smoke. Yeah, the Psilons got us good… anticipated all our plans. Firing positions Alpha, Beta, and Gamma were burning.
Except there were four positions!
I shook my head, trying to clear my head. Where had we gone to play? Usually to Alpha or Gamma, they were closer. Occasionally to Beta. And only a few times, when coming back from a hike through the woods or from the Silver Falls, to Delta.
Had Ogarin really not known about it?
Ten kilometers… southwest of here… I glanced in that direction, the sky there was still clear and blue.
"I know where to hide," I said. "Let's go."
There were religions that believed that the entire world was a dream. The dream of God, who had imagined this world. A person's own dream. The dream of a random unassuming person. This probably explained a lot, if one thought that way… dreams were always frightening in some way. Even a kind and beautiful dream was scary by the fact that one would eventually have to wake up.
Could all this really be a dream?
We were walking quickly across the vast concrete field, away from the methodically cruel Psilons, away from our people trying to resist them.
One couldn't betray in a dream, right?
Or was it that if one betrayed in a dream, then one was prepared to do it for real?
Or could I be the one asleep and dreaming it all? Anne Eiko and her antsy brother, and the Psilon attack… Or maybe just the attack. I was going to wake up and find out that the racers had continued on their way, that there never was any Loredan, and I needed to buy a bouquet of flowers and go propose to Olga Nonova… That was how Father Vitaly would probably interpret my nightmare, in which the middle-aged teacher behaved herself heroically…
No. This wasn't the case.
This was all real.
It was just old fears coming alive, our nightmares turning real.
Hazy, unclear shadows, which were so nice to imaging at night, under the covers, setting aside a book about the Vague War. They were back. They were flesh and blood. And they wanted our blood.
Did they really not realize that nearly two hundred years had passed, that we were at peace?
They couldn't not know that. Those Psilons were smart, very smart.
Then did that mean that the orders given by long-dead rulers meant so much to them?
Or was it simply that, after seeing that there was still a human settlement on the planet, they decided that the war had been lost and that their race had been wiped out like the Sakkra? And went into their last, merciless battle, wishing to, if not win, then at least to make the enemy pay dearly for their lives?
Shadows. Shadows of the past. Light a thousand lamps, fill the temple with candles, come out into the sun — they were still going to creep up. From the victorious war, from the legendary deeds. What was the name of the pilot that had rammed the Loredan? I couldn't remember anymore. His final act was left in the dry lines of text in the military archives. And the victims of his act had crawled to their destination to die with honor.
They were doomed. And they had to know it.
But shadows no longer felt any pain.
"Alexey?"
I glanced at Artem. The boy was walking next to me, while his sister was slightly in front.
"Yes?"
"Have you lived all your life here?"
"Uh-huh."
He probably wanted to say how boring it was… Well, I definitely knew that.
"And never went anywhere?"
"No."
He smiled gloomily, "I envy you."
"What?"
"Once I dreamed of adventure. Then I stopped."
"Why?"
Artem shrugged, "Because all adventures end."
"And you have problems, right?" I asked carefully.
"That's an understatement."
He no longer looked closed-in. More like doomed. As if he was doing something by inertia, because he had to, getting no enjoyment from it and not putting his faith in luck. This was how one might be taking a test, already knowing there was no way to pass it.
"Don't worry," I said. "I'm sure you'll leave. We're lay low, then you and Anne are going to leave…"
He had a kind smile. Except he didn't believe me in the least.
"Won't work. You'll see."
Why was I comforting him?
Which of us was in a greater need of comfort? Our small community was dying right before my eyes. There was nothing ahead. And the chances for survival were so laughable that it was impossible to calculate them.
And yet I still wanted to comfort this little boy, that strange off-worlder, who had the rotten fortune of ending up on our small, quiet world. As if he had his own shadows standing behind him, and greater trouble than a burning planet.
"Are you afraid of dying?" I asked.
"No, of course not," Artem replied without any false bravery. "Not in the least… Wait, who's that?"
Anne, who'd been walking in front of us, stopped, and metal glinted dully in her hand. I dashed forward, grabbed her by the wrist, and screamed, "Stop! Don't even think about it! This is an Abori!"
I didn't even notice how her hand disappeared from my grip. The girl threw me a contemptuous look, "So what? I know they're potentially dangerous."
The Abori was walking leisurely towards us. Sneezing, blowing his nose, spitting clumps of slime. Middle-aged probably. Not the best time for taking a walk…
"Peace and love!" I shouted.
"It's dangerous!" Anne said stubbornly.
"You have no idea how dangerous!" I barked. "Anne, these beings emit directed microwave beams. They're telepathically connected to one another. They're empathic and will exact revenge for the death of any of them. They'll kill you and everyone you care about."
She glanced at Artem and hesitated, "And if I don't touch it?"
"Then it's going to be fine. They're not aggressive. They don't want anything from us, okay? Nothing!"
The Abori came closer. He smacked his mouth, inhaling, then said nasally, "Peace and love…"
Grabbing Anne by the hand, I started to move around the Abori carefully. Artem was walking next to us in such a way as to be shielded by us from the native.
"Peace and love…" the Abori repeated. He reached into the folds of his flesh, dug around in there. And took a step in our direction.
The pearl was three centimeters in diameter. No smaller than the Plasma Flower. Plus it had a flaming scarlet hue, which in itself was incredibly rare.
The Abori was waiting patiently.
My hand started reaching for my backup flask. And froze.
How long would we have to wait in the bunker? A few hours? A day? Two days? Anne and Artem had no water at all. There was no way to know if there'd be any emergency rations in the bunker.
"You know what, buddy, now's not the time," I said, spreading my hands. We kept walking.
The Abori wasn't surprised — they were never surprised by anything. He waited a little, and then followed us.
"That's your main export, right?" Artem asked.
"Our only export," I confirmed.
"And that ball is expensive? Then why didn't you take it?"
"It has to be traded for water."
"But you've got a flask."
"You can't drink money, Artem."
"Makes sense," he agreed easily.
The distance between us and the native kept growing. But he didn't seem bothered by it, continuing to follow us, swaying, scratching himself, producing indistinct gurgling sounds. Anne was clearly feeling nervous, constantly looking back.
"Don't worry, he won't bother you," I said.
"I'm not afraid for myself," the girl bit off.
"We'll hide in the bunker, he'll walk around for a bit, then leave," I promised. "We got lucky that the Psilons don't know about position Delta."
"There's no information on it," the girl replied gloomily. "Even in the Imperial archives. It's not the first time it happened during the war: they'd destroy some documents for secrecy's sake, resulting in warehouses, bases, spaceports being forgotten. They recently found an automated underground factory on Endoria, it's been manufacturing clips for marine blasters all these years… They built to last back then."
I once again felt ill at ease. Stupid thoughts kept appearing in my head, really stupid ones. The flashes and clouds of smoke that occasionally appeared in the distance didn't instill any optimism. The Psilons were taking out my community.
By the time we reached the Delta bunker, the Abori was already half a kilometer behind us. I quickly found the disguised entrance hatch, you don't forget a skill like that. I cleared the dust off the control panel on the concrete slab and pressed my hand against it. The ancient mechanism thought for a moment, then produced a green light. During the war, they'd decided against restricting any locks to a particular individual. Simple "human or alien" sensors were sufficient.
After all, a person could betray their country, their planet. But what madman was capable of betraying the human race?
We descended twenty meters along a narrow concrete well. I spun the wheel on the heavy steel hatch and swung it open.
"Lighting still works," Artem said in surprise.
"It turns on whenever someone enters the bunker," I explained. "The first time I came here, I was younger than you."
We were standing in a long corridor, with occasional lights on the ceiling and even more occasional steel doors.
"Farther are the technical spaces," I said. "There's no point in going there. We should go to the combat post, there are chairs there, so we can sit."
The children were quiet. I went ahead, seeking out the marks left with soot and markers. I was even able to make out my clumsy signature — it had been the height of coolness to leave a mark on the wall of a dead bunker… how young and foolish we'd been…
"Combat post," Anne pointed at the symbols over one of the doors.
"Right. It's not very comfortable, but…" I touched the panel, and the door slid aside.
"Oh…" Artem said quietly.
I was shocked no less than him.
Before, when we'd come here, the post had been locked down. We could sit at the controls, hit the buttons, nothing would happen. There'd been just dim lighting and the quiet rustling of the ventilation.
Now the post was alive.
A huge three-dimensional screen was glowing over the main combat panel. A schematic representation of the enormous spaceport, some structures, ships standing in a corner. Many dots, green and red, crawling across the map. There were few red ones, making it easy to guess that they were the Psilon marines. There were a lot more green ones. Although not even close to two thousand, no more than half…
"Identify yourself," a quiet female voice said. "Race, citizenship, rank, full name."
I swallowed a lump in my throat.
The bunker's computer post was alive. Apparently, some of the systems had begun reactivating the firing position when the attack began.
"Identify yourself…" the voice said with the same intonation.
"Human, Human Empire, militiaman, Alexey Kononov…" I whispered.
"Identification complete. In accordance with the emergency rules, control over firing position Delta has passed to Militiaman Alexey Kononov. Please take the command seat."
I looked back, seeking support. But Anne was utterly shocked. She was looking around, holding her blaster with both hands, as if preparing to repel an attack. But Artem's eyes were suddenly filled with genuine childish joy. The boy was suddenly in his heroic dreams. The most heroic ones, where one was suddenly given power and weapons.
"I accept command," I said, not recognizing my own voice. "Report the situation."
The command chair was too big, as if I was a child again. Then I realized that it was meant for someone in heavy combat armor.
"The spaceport is being invaded. The enemy has been identified as Psilon assault cruiser Loredan. Invasion forces consist of four assault boats, forty marines, three Tramp-class fighters. At the moment, the planetary forces have destroyed one assault boat and three marines. The fighters are defending the Loredan, which is coming in for a landing. It will touch down in twenty-four minutes."
The bunker's computer didn't know how to feel surprise. It was also a shadow from a long-long dream.
"Auxiliary positions Alpha, Beta, and Gamma have been destroyed by enemy fighters. Please note the precision of the attack, suggesting the presence of enemy agents on the planet. Militia forces are scattered and are moving chaotically across the spaceport field. Please note the incompetent command of the forces. Our forces in the vicinity of the guard post are continuing to resist. Expected time until the post is captured is nine minutes. Awaiting orders."
The control panel in front of me was glowing with hundreds of buttons, touch panels, indicators, and tiny screens. I had no idea how to use any of that, but it wasn't really necessary.
"Report on the possible ways to counter the assault," I said.
"Attacking the cruiser Loredan during the descent to the planet. Probability of success: 5%. Attacking the Psilon marines on the spaceport field. Probability of success: 73%, with the subsequent destruction of the bunker by the aggressor's space forces."
"We came here to hide!" Anne Eiko shouted from behind him. "Alexey!"
I'd read enough books about the war and seen plenty of movies. I just didn't know how much combat posts of stationary firing positions copied the bridges of warships."
This was my chance to check.
"Mutiny in progress!" I said.
"Confirmed," the computer reported when the blue cocoon of a force field covered my seat. Anne Eiko, who had already raised her gun, decided not to fire.
I looked at the screen, where the red dots were "scattering" the green ones, while a dozen marines were converging on the guard post.
"Engage the marines," I said.
"Executing," the soft voice confirmed.
I had a good mental image of what was happening above us, on the surface. Laser turrets and missile tubes sliding out of the ground. Unfolding radar dishes. Splashes of energy, fiery whips, whose firepower was enough for warships.
It should also be enough for the marines, even if they were well protected.
"We still won't win!" Anne Eiko screamed. "We can't! The fighters will destroy the bunker, the Loredan will land and get entrenched, the planet will be incinerated with meson bombs!"
Her voice was distorted by the force field and sounded not quite human.
In a way, that was true.
"My friends are there," I said, nodding at the screen, where the soldiers of the guard post were putting up a hopeless fight. "Now they have a chance."
"What about us? Do we have a chance?" Anne Eiko shouted. Small, pretty, curly-haired girl Anne, who'd been taught to serve and protect very well.
Her own.
All of us were "others" to her. There was no difference between a Psilon and a human from the frontier.
"There would've been a chance," I said. "Had you not sent the Psilons information on the three firing positions you knew about."
I looked at Artem, trying to see if he knew.
The boy bit his lip.
He knew.
"Psycho!" Anne Eiko shouted. "It was our only chance! They would've let us leave the planet!"
She grabbed Artem with one hand, pressing him against her like a doll. The gun was aimed at my head, but the girl wasn't trying to shoot. She was probably estimating the strength of the force field.
"40% of combat systems have been disabled," the computer informed him. "Ten enemy individuals have been destroyed."
I waited. I didn't need to touch any buttons or aim targeting reticles at enemies. The time for childish games had passed.
"60% of combat systems have been disabled. Fourteen enemy individuals have been destroyed. Accidental losses on our side are within acceptable parameters."
The games were over. But parameters still remained.
"80% of combat systems have been disabled. Sixteen enemy individuals have been destroyed. It is recommended that the firing position crew abandon the bunker."
"Remove the post commander's defenses," I said, getting up. The red dots on the screen were quickly moving in our direction on the main screen. We'd never be able to get away. But it was still better to die under the sky instead of this concrete burrow, hot from the plasma.
"Bastard!" Anne Eiko said.
"Don't shoot, I forbid it!" Artem shouted. "Don't kill him!"
I shrugged. It barely even mattered. I'd been able to do what I had to. Death awaited me anyway.
"It would be nice to know who the two of you are," I said.
Anne Eiko was crying lowering her gun. She'd have shot me with pleasure, but it seemed that she couldn't go against her brother's direct order.
I ought to kill her too. Because that girl had committed the most unheard-of crime in history: betraying humanity to aliens. Even during the Vague War it had been extremely rare. And only then thanks to torture, psycho-breaking, blackmail…
But she'd done it voluntarily!
What was going on? Why had this robot girl been created—yes, created—if she was prepared to sacrifice humankind for… no, not for herself, but for her brother?
Assuming he really was her brother, of course…
"I'm going up," I said. "You can stay here if you want. I won't bother trying to talk you into it."
But I didn't have to talk anyone into anything.
As soon as I opened the hatch and found myself on the surface, I realized the scale of what had happened.
It all happened so quickly. Not like in the movies. We had dived into the bunker, accepted command, given orders, the combat systems had started working… Three minutes of battle spent underground.
Now I could see what a spaceport stationary firing position was capable of doing if it wasn't destroyed in time.
Everything around us was black, completely charred. A conflagration, with the islands of concrete slabs. There was nothing left where turrets had slid out, I could see only puddles of melted metal. The sky was covered by clouds of ash, while black powder was blowing at my feet.
How many forces had the Psilons thrown against this unplanned underground fortress? How many of them had been lost?.. What if the others had survived?
"Look, Anne Eiko," I said. "This is your doing."
"I only have one job," there wasn't a shadow of emotion in her voice. "I wasn't the one who brought the Psilons to your planet."
I didn't answer, I was too busy looking at weak movement in the clouds of ash.
I had no idea how the Psilon had managed to climb out of his armored suit. I also didn't know how he had survived even as his suit was melting into a gleaming puddle. But he wasn't unharmed and couldn't walk.
Yet he still crawled.
Taking out my blaster, I started walking towards the enemy marine. Every step was kicking up streams of smoke from under my feet.
The Psilon raised his head.
He had grayish-blue skin, just like on the pictures. His legs were a little disproportionate, too thin and short, his arms were long and had tenacious fingers. I had no idea why they were sometimes called "eggheads", since the Psilon's head looked more like an inverted pear. The remains of blonde hair were sticking out in burned locks, but I couldn't see any other damage.
"Sucks, huh?" I asked.
His big round eyes were staring at me without blinking. The Psilon was defenseless without his cyborgized suit. Even more than I was after exiting the bunker. He didn't seem to even have any handheld weapons.
"Peace and love…"
The Abori we'd encountered earlier walked up to us, waddling heavily and digging into the ashes up to his ankles. He was breathing heavily, harshly, and "spoke" even worse. And yet he'd survived!
I looked at the scarlet pearl in the proffered hand. It was strange how insistent he was in offering it to me. Funny even.
And there was that "peace and love"…
"Where do you see peace and love here?" I asked curiously. "Huh? Why don't you put your rock back where it belongs."
The Abori sighed, "Belongs…"
"Better yet, run away. They might kill you by accident."
"Accident…"
I looked the Psilon in the eye once again. He kept waiting in a calm and detached manner. Maybe he was in shock, or maybe this fragile and small race knew how to die with dignity.
"You're already dead," I said. "All of you are. That's why you came to kill. And I'm… I'm alive. For now."
"For now?" the Abori inquired.
Putting the blaster back into its holster, I turned. And froze.
Six Psilons were towering over me, standing in a semicircle. Their armor was playing with dark iridescent flames, like overheated metal. They weren't holding any weapons, but why would they be? Their entire metal shell was a weapon. Had my finger twitched on the trigger, I'd probably have been vaporized in an instant.
Anne and Artem Eiko were standing next to the Psilons. It looked like one of them was talking to the girl.
Well then, her betrayal seemed to have borne fruit. They were going to leave the planet. The Psilons were going to get entrenched. The Imperial fleet was going to drop a hundred meson bombs onto the planet.
The furious attack of firing position Delta hadn't done anything except for giving me a brief moment of triumph.
One of the Psilons took a step forward. He walked up and looked down at me, since he was at least two heads taller.
"Who commanded the battle?"
They'd always had good translating equipment. They never experienced any problems with communication, but it was difficult for them to understand the complaints of primitive races like humanity and the Bulrathi."
"I did."
"Are you a soldier?"
"I'm in the militia."
I couldn't see the Psilon's face through the helmet. Not that his facial expression would've told me anything.
"Did you hope to win?"
"No."
"To deal us irreparable harm?"
"No."
"Then what did you want?"
"To help our people."
The Abori walked up to us heavily. He reached out the hand with the pearl towards the Psilon and mumbled, "Help our people…"
There was a blinding flash, and it wasn't even clear what had fired. The Abori's body burst into bloody chunks.
"Why?" I asked.
"An inadequate mind, incapable of fighting for survival, must not interfere in the conversation of sentient beings."
Whoa. They considered me sentient. Based on their strange, alien logic.
"You will be imprisoned," the Psilon said. "Soon the planet will be ours. We will negotiate with the Human Emperor."
"No one is going to negotiate with you," I said. "The war has ended long ago. You'll simply be destroyed."
"We will negotiate," the Psilon repeated. "The ship is landing. Those who helped us will be allowed to leave. Those who resisted will be destroyed. Those who resisted valiantly will be imprisoned."
It was unlikely that he realized that I was no longer looking at him. I was looking in the smoky black distance, at the edge of the forest.
"You shouldn't have killed the Abori," I said. "This wasn't the first one you killed, was it?"
"An inadequate mind," the Psilon bit off.
The horizon seemed to move. Brown, soft, amorphous figures were crawling out one after another. I had no idea they could move so fast.
"You were wrong," I said. "You made another mistake. You can't divide people like that. Us and them, adequate and inadequate. This doesn't work, ever."
"The ship is landing," the Psilon said triumphantly. He reached out a hand and ripped the blaster from my belt. The metal fingers clenched, then tossed the crumpled weapon aside. "You are our prisoner."
He stepped to his wounded comrade and easily picked him up with his armor-clad hands. It was actually touching.
The ash-covered sky was humming. I couldn't see the cruiser yet, but it was landing, announcing itself with the rumble of its engines. The wind started blowing, the ash was pushed towards the forest, and an enormous cylinder glinted high up in the sky.
But I kept staring at the moving horizon.
They'd never gathered in such numbers before, the natives of this planet, these melancholic beings that never wanted for anything.
It seemed that the irritant was deemed to be very serious.
Anne Eiko and Artem were standing surrounded by the Psilons, back to back, watching the landing ship. They would probably be released as soon as the Loredan touched down.
Neither these strange children nor the Psilons understood what I had already realized. A brief explanation wouldn't do, one had to be born and raised on our pitiful planet in order to get this.
The Psilons had their code of military honor. The Abori had their own.
First the cruiser exploded.
It seemed to have been sliced in half by a beam. Except there were no lasers on the planet with enough power to cut a Psilon warship. The bow section immediately went down, almost straight down, while the stern was still maintaining its trajectory for several seconds, as if the sliced in half ship still presented something workable.
Apparently, the Abori were thinking the same thing, since the stern part of the cylinder was turned inside-out in huge petals, shaking out some shapeless garbage, throwing out fiery streams and blue bolts of discharges. A moment later, three bright stars flared up in the sky, indicating that the Psilons no longer had their fighters.
I didn't even want to feel happy. I just kept thinking that we shouldn't have bothered with our valiant defense of the planet; instead we should've just abandoned everything and gone into the forest.
Leave the shadows of the past to their own devices.
And let the foolish and inadequate natives decide whom they let into their home to stay.
The ground shook twice when the remains of the ship fell. A wave ran along the concrete field, twisting the surviving slabs. I was thrown to the ground, right onto the remains of the poor native. It seemed that the former strategic spaceport of the Empire had lost all of its significance. Not even a yacht would be able to land here now.
The ring of the Abori closed in around the spaceport, shuddered, and started moving inward.
The marines closed ranks. The familiar red clouds flared into being in front of them, merged into a stripe and creeped forward, towards the approaching savages.
The Abori reacted quickly. It seemed that they were able to sense threats a lot better in these numbers, and could neutralize them far quicker.
In moments, the armored figures of the Psilons were white-hot. When the softened segments of their armor started crumbling to the ground, there were no more bodies inside them.
Adequate mind… inadequate mind… was it really a good idea to draw such hasty conclusions? Some had gone into space and created a great machine civilization, while others simply had no need for that.
I rose and went to the children.
Anne Eiko's eyes were full of madness.
"I'm scared…" she whispered. "I'm scared…"
No, not a little girl… a frightened woman.
"I'd suggest that you run to your yacht," I said. "Maybe it survived. You see all of us as aliens. But to the Abori you've become one with the Psilons."
The brown wave of soft undulating flesh was approaching. I saw that it was starting to split into several streams: some flowing to the ship's debris, to the guard post, where there were probably Psilon marines, and to other targets only the Abori knew.
One group was coming towards us.
"Artem, did you know that Anne had been planning on contacting the Psilons?"
The boy jerked and nodded.
"Was it your decision?"
"No…" it was difficult for him to speak. "Not mine. But I didn't stop her. I… didn't want to die. I don't want to die."
Anne screeched. I knew what was happening, she'd sensed the threat. The Abori weren't cruel, but they were letting her know what they were about to do.
The gun was once again in her hands, and the girl opened fire. Very quickly and, at first glance, without aiming. But the Abori were dropping one after another. I didn't try to stop her. First of all, I wouldn't have made it in time, and second, it wouldn't have changed anything.
Instead I took Artem by the shoulders and covered his eyes with my hand. A second later I had to close my own eyes, since seeing what was happening was far too frightening. Except the girl still kept on shooting for several more seconds. I had no idea how that was possible.
I kept expecting that Artem's face was going to burst into flame under my hands.
But it didn't happen.
"Peace and love…"
I looked at the Abori. The others of his kind were moving past us, and the ashes remaining from Anne Eiko had already been mixed with the cinders of the burned concrete and the ashes of the Psilons under their feet.
"Peace and love," I said.
"They did a wrong thing," the Abori mumbled. "Don't do it."
A moment later, he melted away into the crowd.
For the first time in my memory, and not just mine, an Abori had deigned to speak in complete human speech.
"What's going to happen to me?" Artem asked suddenly.
"The Abori didn't touch you," I replied.
"Will you tell the others? About Anne and me?"
"Yes. I have to."
"She did speak with the Psilons, but… They already knew the location of the firing positions. Nothing would have changed. Regardless."
"Maybe," I replied. "But does that change anything? From the viewpoint of the Empire?"
"I have a gun," the boy said. "Will you let me leave? On my own. Without ISS interrogation."
I didn't answer.
"I can knock you out," Artem said. "Honest. But I don't want to. Please, just turn away for a minute."
The Abori were leaving. I was watching that brown wave, which was in its own way extremely moral and reasonable.
Why was it that I couldn't feel hatred towards anyone?
Not even to the Psilons.
Not even to the traitors.
Not even to me.
We weren't the Psilons or the Abori.
We didn't have such strict rules of honor. We knew how to betray everyone, even ourselves. But we could also understand. Everyone, even those who were extremely alien.
Perhaps that was why we'd won the Vague War.
"I'm very sorry for you," I told Artem. "Really."
"Thanks. I believe you. Please, turn away for a minute, or I won't be able to do it. You're not going to help me, are you?"
"Not with that."
Turning away, I looked in the direction of the guard post. The survivors would probably gather there. I wanted to believe that there was going to be someone to gather.
I had to wait for quite a while; Artem couldn't bring himself to do for a long time.
It really was comfortable to sit on a covered Salieri rocket launcher. On the outside it was covered in soft shock-absorbing plastic. Besides, the ground around us was more radioactive than a dozen tiny missiles with nuclear warheads.
"Looks like it's hospital for me instead of training," Denis said. "Probably. And for a while. But it's unimportant."
The sky was burning with thousands of shooting stars. Today they weren't shooting for naught… I was looking up and trying to be the first to see the landing ships of the fleet. There was a very good chance of that.
"Did Nonova really fight heroically?" Ogarin asked.
"Uh-huh. You have no idea."
The camp where out militia was awaiting the arrival of the hospital ships was nearby. Nonova's loud voice was shouting over everyone.
"Never would've guessed," Denis snorted. "Fill my pipe."
I took the tobacco pouch from his hands and glanced at the Captain. The bandage, along with the pipe, made him look like a pirate from a book.
"You think they'll be able to save the eyes," I asked.
"Unlikely. Most likely I'll be given electronic ones. It's fine, Alexey. These things happen. You won't get to watch every play to the end. Torachi got it far worse…"
I nodded, then realized that gestures were lost on him and said, "Yeah. Still, it would be nice to know who Anne and Artem really were."
Denis snorted, "Each of us has our own play, Alexey. Sometimes we're able to glimpse a piece of someone else's, but it's always just a piece. Do you remember my story?"
"I do."
"All I know is that the Daughters of Kali School is finished. If you testify, of course."
"I will."
"And there's the end of another play," Denis accepted the filled pipe from my hands. "Such is life. "Try to understand, Alexey… you're never going to learn who Anne and Artem were, you're never going to learn why the Psilons attacked, and whether or not the girl's betrayal really was unnecessary. Tomorrow they're going to take me to the military hospital, so you won't even learn the rest of my life's play. At first I'll write, tell you about how my new eyes see the world, how well my service is going. Then, little by little, I'll start to forget your little world, you, your accidental heroes, even this battle I'll probably almost forget. The same thing will happen to you too. But don't regret it, Alexey. Never regret others' unfinished plays. Write your own."
"I don't know if I can."
"No one does. But usually people do… whether it's good or bad is a different question…"
Thousands of stars were falling from the sky, and I knew that I'd never be able to spot the descending ships before Ogarin did. Even now that he had a bandage over his eyes.
He was right about the rest, as usual. About the fact that one could never learn all the stories, even the short versions. And about me forgetting him, him forgetting our whole planet, and all of us forgetting Anne Eiko and her brother. It wasn't our play.
But for now we were sitting next to one another, shoulder to shoulder, under the sky that was alien to Ogarin and very dear to me, and waited for the Imperial ships.
Now they were the ones who were late, even for the curtain call.