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 5
Tommy was drinking tea, consuming candy from a box with that businesslike indifference that was utterly impossible for a child. Kay and Arthur weren't interested in food at the moment.
They were sitting on a couch, which took up the entire wall of the small room of the largely empty spaceport hotel. Arthur had his feet curled up under him, while Kay was sitting half-turned to him. Tommy could hear their conversation but stayed out of it.
Those two had a lot to talk about.
"I was really hoping to avoid this," Arthur looked down at himself bitterly. "I was certain we'd be found."
"Why?"
"You were on your way to Grail. You'd already reached it once, despite everything, so you would definitely reach it again."
Kay could only shake his head at this argument.
"If a man ends up in a stream of events that are changing the entire universe, there is no longer a place for coincidences."
"Are you talking about me?"
"You. Me. Tommy."
The young man smiled, hearing his name, and poured himself another cup of tea.
"Fine. Let's say it's true," Kay glanced at Tommy quickly and with alarm. "But in that case, quit worrying. You have your transient disadvantage again, but it's because of destiny."
"Destiny knows how to avenge too."
"For what?"
"For Mohammadi."
Kay wiped his face with his hand, as if clearing off the cobwebs.
"Forget it."
"How? I found her to exact revenge… and couldn't kill her. It—"
"Shut up," Kay slapped Arthur's lips lightly. "That's it. Case closed."
"aTan heals only the body, Kay," Tommy spoke for the first time. "The soul is beyond it."
Arthur looked at Tommy and said in a serious tone, "Thanks, brother."
"We can handle the soul. If necessary," Kay put his hand on Arthur's shoulder. "Maybe it's enough for one night. It's three in the morning. I'd like to get a few hundred minutes of sleep."
"Me too," Arthur nodded. "I waited for over a day for you two and slept only a couple of hours."
"I'm curious, how did you aTan go?" Tommy asked casually.
"Normally," Arthur's voice was even. "Arthur Ovald, son of an Endorian merchant, is alive once more. I hadn't bothered to change my name in the aTan agreement, and Curtis Sr. couldn't care less."
"All right," Kay got to his feet. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to bed. The two of you can keep talking until morning if you like."
He fell asleep quickly to the quiet conversation in the next room. Tommy spoke the most, and Kay was glad for that.
Three hours of sleep wasn't enough to rest but was enough to stop being tired. Kay walked quietly through the room where Arthur and Tommy were asleep, holding one another. After taking an ice-cold shower, he returned and stood there for a minute, staring at the boy's face.
The swollen eyelids were a reminder of the nocturnal tears which he hadn't heard.
The fingers gripping the edge of the pilot.
Pain and fear.
aTan healed only the body.
Kay went up to the information terminal and connected to the hotel's network. It was simple and not very user-friendly for a tourist unfamiliar with Grail, but half an hour later Dutch found the archive of the planet's central hospital. Six minutes after that, he got access to the files of the charity unit of the Church of the Unified Will.
Only after that did Kay walk up to the couch and shake the Curtises by the shoulders.
"What?" Tommy muttered.
"Get up. You have to shave," Kay pulled him out of bed. "Now."
"Why do I have to get up?" Arthur opened one eye.
"To wash your ears. Quickly. Visiting hours for the incurably ill are from morning to noon, and we still have to rent a car."
"What ill?"
"Incurable ones," Kay pulled Arthur out of bed after Tommy. He dragged him to the screen and dropped him in the chair.
Arthur Curtis stared wide-eyed at the picture of Isabella Kal.
"Are you sure?" Tommy asked. He was clearly nervous, so Kay gave him an encouraging smile.
"I am. You?"
"Pretty sure. Haven't had the pleasure to know that lady and have no desire to see her."
"Then wait for us."
"Kay!" Tommy stared at him imploringly. "Think about Arthur! It's cruel!"
"The time for pity ended before we were even born, Tommy."
Dutch climbed out of the jeep. History was repeating itself: once again, they hadn't been able to rent a flyer, so they'd have to hike through the Evil Lands. But before that, regardless of what awaited them―be it God, the devil, or an ISS ambush―Kay had to take Arthur on a date with his past.
The past stuck in this large building that looked like an ancient Terran fortress.
The boy was already standing in front of the rough-hewn stone arch of the entrance. He was so small and helpless in the face of this mass of gray granite, Kay felt a pinch in his heart.
Nonsense. It was just baseless sentimentality.
Arthur Curtis was twenty years old.
He was as far from innocence and purity as Kay himself.
And yet Dutch still spent several seconds staring at the awkward childish figure before walking up to Arthur.
"It's time…"
Everyone was as old as they were. Kay had never been a child, and Arthur hadn't yet been an adult.
A slightly surprised woman in the white tunic of a sister of mercy gave them a pass. Visitations weren't forbidden, as the Church considered all communication to be good. But she still asked, "Who is this woman to the boy?"
"No one. But he needs to make sure of that himself," Kay replied politely.
No one on Grail ever learned Kal's name. She was simply a resurrected crazy woman, who proved to be too much to the entire medical arsenal. The aTan Corporation kept its secrets, and Kal was listed in the charity's records under the beautiful and nominal name of Love.
Kay mentally agreed that there was a certain logic to it, even if it was a little perverse.
When they walked up to the room whose number was listed on the pass, Dutch felt that Arthur, who was pressed against him, was shaking.
"Kay!"
He looked at the boy.
"Don't! I can't!"
"If not for the mechanist, I wouldn't have brought you here. Let's go."
Kay pushed Arthur forward, and they entered the room.
The nurse knitting in the corner gave them a polite nod. She'd seen many different visitors: some tried to pay off their deadly sins with a bag of fruit for the sick, and some liked to stare at the approaching death with morbid curiosity.
But these visitors didn't fit any of the usual categories.
"Do you recognize her?" Kay asked.
Arthur's eyes danced across the faces of the women. There were six of them in the room, carefully dressed, washed, coiffed, sat in front of a screen, where cartoon rabbits were chasing a cartoon wolf across a forest.
Then his fingers gripped Kay's hand.
"Didn't recognize her right away, did you?" Kay asked. "First lesson, boy. The faces of the past have been washed away. Only in our dreams do we recognize them right away."
He walked up to Isabella Kal, who was frozen in her chair, and had to almost force Arthur to keep up. Kal's face hadn't changed. She continued to watch the figures running around on the screen with animal-like curiosity.
"Kal, it's me," Kay said quietly. "And this is Arthur Curtis. Do you recognize us?"
Kal continued to stare at the screen.
"Second lesson," Kay continued mercilessly. "The past is harmless to us. But if we really try, we can bring it back to life. Give it a new body and a new soul."
He picked up Isabella's hand, still soft and thin, untouched by withering over the past four years.
Then he half-stroked and half-pushed Arthur's face with it.
The boy yelped.
Another gentle touch.
This time Arthur didn't make a sound.
"Third lesson. The past can hit us, but only if we want it to. And we can get used to the pain, even grow to like it."
Dutch stood between Kal and the screen. The woman didn't move.
"Fourth and most important lesson. The past is dead. The past is gone. It's in our power to kill it for good, to simply turn away, or to breathe new life into the ashes. What will you choose, boy?"
Alarmed, the nurse set her unfinished scarf aside and walked up to them.
"What will you choose?"
"To turn away and leave," Arthur lifted his gaze to Kay.
"Are you sure?"
The boy nodded wordlessly.
"Her name was Isabella Kal," Kay told the nurse, and they left. Arthur walked slowly up to a narrow window. He glanced down at the jeep parked by the fence.
"The past can be given its names back. You can remember it. The important thing is to not bring the dead back to life."
"Kay…" Arthur's back tensed. "What if I answered differently?"
"I'd still fight for you."
"Why? I'm the past too. Ashes."
"You're alive, Artie. I won't surrender to your death anymore."
"Kay, why do you love me?"
Dutch thought that no one ever knew the answer to that question, regardless of whether it had to do with humans or aliens, men or women, adults or children. And yet he answered, because silence was also a part of the past.
"Because you taught me to love."
"Let's go?" Arthur asked after a moment.
"Let's go."
They quickly walked down the stairs, no longer talking. There was no need.
The past could die without them.