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 3
It was difficult to move, as the servomotors were no longer helping the muscles.
Tommy was the first to touch the hull. They spent five minutes making their way to an open hatch, where no one seemed to be in a hurry to appear. Then the young man pulled Kay into the airlock, into the ship's gravity field.
The airlock was empty. Compressed air hissed, rapidly filling the tiny compartment.
"Help me get this off…" Kay said, kneeling on the floor. The hundred kilograms of useless protection were pressing him to the floor. Tommy, whose armor hadn't yet used up all of its power, started to unfasten the ceramic plates.
With mild apprehension, Kay took in his first breath. It was fine. Cool, clean air. He threw down the rest of the shell that had served him until its end. He rose to his feet and looked around. The typical airlock of a small yacht. A transparent locker with an ordinary vacuum suit… and a blaster strapped to it. Kay suppressed the desire to grab the weapon. Either it wasn't charged, or he didn't need it.
"Don't take yours off yet," he told Tommy briskly. He approached the inner hatch of the airlock and pressed the lock handle.
The door opened.
"Come on! Quickly!" they heard.
Kay exited the airlock.
This yacht was a lot smaller than his old boat. The airlock opened directly into the cockpit, and the cargo hold could be seen next to it through an open hatch.
A lean man in a knitwear suit was sitting in the pilot seat with his back to Kay.
"Come on! What's taking you so long?!"
Dutch went up to him. The man turned.
His face was utterly unfamiliar. He was either young or just after aTan. A smile seemed glued to his half-open mouth.
"Just look at this! Bear witness!" the pilot pointed at the navigation screen. Kay slid his gaze to it slowly.
An ideal course.
Travel time: zero. Drive wear: zero.
The yacht had crossed two light years in an instant.
"I have to document this," the pilot said quickly. "Definitely. This doesn't happen, does it?"
"It doesn't."
"Hold on, give me a sec," the pilot jumped to his feet and started to dash about the narrow space of the cockpit, occasionally throwing glances at the screen, as if afraid the numbers were going to change. He opened a cabinet above a small fold-out table, revealing a pile of circuit boards, a pair of books, cans of beer, and papers. He took out a few sheets and a pen. He rushed to Kay again, throwing a confused glance at Tommy, who had just entered and was still wearing his armor. He crouched by the controls and placed a sheet of paper on the inactive planetary drive panel.
"There! Now we need to figure out the wording…"
"You have our thanks," Kay said. The man waved him away, "Hold on, later…"
For a minute, Dutch watched him write hastily, occasionally biting on the unfortunate pen. Then he nodded to Tommy, "Come here, I'll help you take this off."
"Kid, are you an adult?" the pilot asked, his eyes never leaving the paper.
"Probably," Tommy lowered the helmet visor. He crouched next to Kay, who started to unfasten the shoulder pads.
"Uh-huh, that's better… two witnesses."
The young man gave Kay a confused look.
"He jumped here on an ideal course," Dutch said. "There… you can do the rest yourself."
"I have a cutter," the pilot said.
"Why?"
"It's a joke," the man raised his head. "Mage Kuznetsoff."
"Kay Dutch."
Strangely enough, his name didn't produce any reaction.
"Kay Dutch and…"
"Tommy."
"…Tommy Dutch… right?"
"Something like that," Tommy said, getting out of the armor.
"…in distress… what happened to you?"
"Fell out of a window."
Kuznetsoff blinked and looked at Dutch.
"Also a joke. Mage, do you have cognac?"
The pilot rubbed his forehead and set aside his half-scribbled sheet.
"Yes, of course. Are you hurt?"
"No."
"Hold on…" Mage swept the cockpit with a pensive gaze. "The cognac is somewhere… No, just think about it, an ideal course!"
Mage Kuznetsoff was not a professional pilot. He worked at some large bank on Rukh, probably not as a clerk, considering he owned a yacht and had time for "planetary tourism". Kay never thought of flying over lifeless worlds as a fun vacation, but such an activity had just saved his life.
He didn't know if Mage had believed their story about an exploded boat, dead friends, and other tall tales. All one had to do was take a look at the powered armor worn over their prison clothes to understand everything, or almost everything.
But Kuznetsoff said nothing. He was probably one of those people who rejected any authority and considered it a matter of honor to spite it. Kay thought that, sooner or later, this attitude would result in big trouble for the banker, but he wasn't in a position to hand out good advice.
At least he had behaved as gratefully as he could, not killing the pilot and taking his yacht. Then again, there was no need to do that, as Mage had readily agreed to take them to Grail, one of the closest planets of the Empire. With a conspiratorial smile, he plotted a course, no longer ideal, but still a very lucky one. An eleven-hour flight; Kay had even managed to stay awake, hearing a lot of interesting stuff about Rukh, where he'd spent six months once doing community service, and about banking, which he had never trusted.