This is a fan translation of Emperors of Illusions (Императоры иллюзий) by the Russian science fiction and fantasy author Sergei Lukyanenko. The novel is a sequel to Lukyanenko's Line of Dreams (Линия грёз) novel and can be considered a fan fiction of the original Master of Orion game.

Chapter 6

The guards had changed, but there were still six of them posted on the other side of the glass wall of the cell. They hadn't dimmed the lights, but Kay had no intention of sleeping. If Tommy were to ask him, he would have honestly said that he was waiting for the wine Arthur had promised.

Covering his eyes with his hand, Kay lay on his back on the hard bunk. His skin itched under the taped sensors. Tommy rolled around in his bed above him. Kay's assumption about the nighttime interrogation chased away any semblance of sleep from him… exactly as Kay had intended.

Four years ago, Arthur Curtis, a boy used to dying, had entered the Door, beyond which God awaited him.

For a thousand endless days, split into long hours and minutes, Arthur Curtis had been holding death by the hand.

A higher power couldn't be good or evil. It encompassed everything. And it wasn't in man's power to comprehend it… one could only see a mere droplet of the vast ocean.

A droplet that reflected one's own self.

Arthur Curtis, twinned to death and pain, betrayed by himself, born to fulfil someone else's dream, had looked into the eyes of God.

Arthur Curtis had seen the sky.

And the sky had broken Arthur. There was nothing in him but pain and fear.

Kay groaned, tensing his body in helpless rage. He had forgotten how to fear just as long ago as he had forgotten how to lose. He was ready to go one-on-one with the entire crew of the destroyer, from the guards in armor to Mohammadi, who herself was armor. He was prepared to die, even though he preferred to win.

But they had left him neither the right to fight nor the right to die. Everything he could rely on no longer depended on him. This entire night had been predestined four years ago, when he had taken Arthur to Grail.

His last chance were those brief days when, he wanted to believe, Arthur Curtis saw something else besides pain and fear.

His last chance was that he was stronger than God.

Kay Dutch lay under the aim of unseen sensors and the eyes of the armed guards; he lay, covering his eyes with his hand, and waited for the wine Arthur Curtis had promised him.

That small amount of human tissue that remained in Mohammadi's body required sleep. She suppressed the weariness with mild electrical stimulation. An interesting night was coming… the meeting with Kay and the strange double had clearly shaken Arthur up.

Stretching out on the bed, she watched Curtis Jr. pour wine into glasses.

"That wouldn't be the same bottle you promised Kay, would it?"

"That's the one. He's not going to need it."

Marjan smiled tenderly. She was going to be almost gentle tonight. Arthur had to tell her much… and give her the life of his former bodyguard.

"Undress," she said.

As if not hearing her, Arthur sat down on the bed. He handed her a glass.

"I want you to feel tonight too," he said hoarsely.

An ordinary human would have probably missed the momentary hesitation. A stream of pulses passed through the electronic circuits, and an audible click came from under the skin of her abdomen.

"Adjust it yourself."

Arthur slid his hand over her body. The skin parted, exposing gray titanium alloy. Then it opened as well. The panel of direct sensor control now lay under Arthur's hand.

"This night is going to be wild," he said. He touched the panel, sunken into her muscles, returning the ability to feel pain to the mechanist.

"Thanks for the wine," Marjan said, lifting the glass to her lips.

"It's all for you."

Very precisely and quickly, Arthur emptied his glass onto the sensor controls.

Mrrshan wines were well-known for their high iron content. There were no better conductors other than mercury.

Marjan Mohammadi wailed, her body twisting in convulsions, produced by the mutual pain of her flesh and metal. Servomotors whined when her hands pushed Arthur away, but it wasn't a precise strike. Having been thrown aside, the young man froze, staring at the convulsing body.

"Little bastard…" the mechanist wheezed, growing quiet.

Arthur stood. Indicators were pulsing in the open panel, showing that Marjan was still alive. The surge protectors had done their job, disconnecting the brain from the maddened receptors.

He didn't have the heart to finish off the mechanist.

Arthur's cabin was equipped to officer standards, as his position as the Emperor's envoy meant quite a lot. He slid a wall panel, behind which there was a clumsy breastplate of powered armor. He spent several minutes disabling the alert circuits to avoid disappointing the watch officers earlier than necessary. Putting the armor on was far easier. This model had a Squall emitter built into the right arm, so he decided not to bring any other weapons.

With a quiet hum of motors, Arthur approached the helpless mechanist. He stared at her for a few moments through the transparent helmet visor.

"Stay here," he advised her. "Your services are no longer required."

Before exiting into the hallways of the sleeping destroyer, Arthur finished the bottle of wine.