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 2
Stars were everywhere. The flickering dust of the galactic core, the cloudy savannahs of the nebulae, the patterns of the constellations, which had never been named by anyone, for no one had ever been at this point in the universe.
Tommy and Kay were still holding hands — a sensible precaution, considering that the Seraphs never came equipped with jetpacks.
"What was he hoping for, Tommy?"
"How should I know?"
"You think in a similar way, you used to guess his actions well."
"That was before, Kay. I've never seen God."
The armor's air supply was supposed to last them five hours. Probably a little longer for Tommy. But Kay was far more concerned about overheating; it was unlikely that the armor could cool itself efficiently in vacuum.
"Kay, do our transmitters work at hyper waves?"
"Well, they wouldn't work at radio waves, would they?"
"What if we turn them on at full power?"
Kay spent a minute thinking about this.
"Good equipment can pick up the signal one-and-a-half to two light years away."
"What should we say?"
"Tommy, even if some idiot decides to save us, he'll need time to get a bearing, prepare the ship… and then spend a few days in flight. But I doubt there could be any humans within two light years of us."
"But Arthur was hoping for something."
"All of us make mistakes."
"Dutch, we managed to drop out of hyper perfectly safe."
Kay gave up.
"Pull up the control panel on your visor. Then switch to the transmitter."
Tommy lifted his hand slowly, carefully touching the outside of his faceplate. Not one had been able to simplify the controls of heavy armor.
"Done."
"There should be a help symbol there, a hand reaching up. Activate it, and that should be it."
"But I can't hear anything!"
"The signal is being sent on a different frequency. If there's someone nearby, then they've already heard you."
Seiker would have probably been able to calculate their vanishingly small chances for survival. Kay didn't want to engage in those calculations. The final hours of his life had turned out to be not so bad. No pain, no humiliation, and not even loneliness. Tommy would live, he had aTan. He probably didn't even need his protection. If he got lucky, then the kid would be able to lose himself among the populace of the planet he'd be resurrected on.
"Kay… If we end up not getting rescued…"
"Go ahead."
"I'll try to do everything for you."
It was pointless to argue.
"Okay. Just try to find Arthur."
"I'll find him."
He was floating among the stars, a D-category bodyguard, a failed linguist, the lieutenant called Measles. His life was draining away, with every breath, with every calorie of heat the armor couldn't shed. He was going to suffocate on the air, stuffy from the heat of his own body. His consciousness matrix would be deleted at aTan facilities. And the hundred kilograms of flesh in the hundred kilograms of armor would become mere dust among the shining stars.
Was there anything beyond the darkness into which he dove so frequently just to awaken on the cold pad of a replicator? Kay hoped there wasn't. He was guilty by every conceivable law: those thought up by the Empire and those he'd established for himself.
Gods did not laugh at people, they simply didn't notice them. One could argue with fate, reject laws, despise the Creation. But, sooner or later, this was how it always ended, with a vast emptiness, a cold bed, or a beam in one's back. He had been traveling to God… to ask a single question, "Why?" Why had such a world been created, where good was indistinguishable from evil, when it was impossible to live a day without hurting someone? Why had the Line of Dreams, which would give rise to billions more even scarier worlds, been given? And where was justice, if any person could stand atop the pyramid, become an eternal Emperor of their own dreams, merciless and invulnerable like Gray… who had once been a mere officer aboard an Endorian destroyer.
One could be unafraid of God's wrath. But no one could avoid getting frightened of the silence.
Kay whispered, maybe to himself, maybe to Tommy, or maybe to the endless silence around him, "If I'm not worth the answer… then you're not worth the questions. Who can be at fault… if everything is permitted…"
The world was spinning around them, not deigning to explain anything or accuse anyone. Borne of Shegal's dream, who had loved adventure so much.
"But if, just in case, something will be… there… then I'll ask," Kay spoke silently.
There was a flash. Very close, a hundred meters from them. A shimmering light, produced by space being torn. A gleam of gray nothingness, through which a ship was popping out into space.
Stunned, Dutch watched as a small yacht was turning in their direction.