So, the answer to one question has already been obtained by the process of elimination—most likely, I am on Atlantis. Specifically, at the time when she was slowly sinking to the bottom of the ocean on an oceanic planet in the Pegasus galaxy.
And… there are two pieces of news. I won't say that either of them is definitively positive.
From memory, I could recall only one episode in the series where the expedition members saw something like this—a flash of light outside the viewport window and bubbles of escaping air.
The very first one, for fuck's sake! The very beginning of the history of Atlantis! The arrival of the expedition at the city!
The flash of light and the air bubble are the consequences of the shield, which holds back millions of tons of water, failing. Because there is no energy—the city's "batteries" have run dry during the time it has been here.
There are two possibilities for the development of events.
Possibility one, which happened before the intervention of time jumps and the assistance of one restless Ancient. The city exhausted its energy reserves and sank. All members of the expedition drowned. Finita la commedia.
Possibility two. Everything is the same, but at the last moment, the heroes took advantage of a so-carefully placed "crutch" in the form of a time machine, returned to the past, found an assistant among the Ancients still living in the city, and he helped save the city. And at the moment when the expedition arrived, the shield depleted and everyone was already preparing to die, the engines fired, pushing the city to the surface. Without energy, without protection, Atlantis survived. And was almost unharmed.
And I don't like either of the options. It's stupid to die after getting a chance at a new life in a city built by people who developed hundreds of millions of years before the appearance of Homo sapiens. However, these very first people, the Ancients, are the creators of Homo...
Clinging to the window, I tried to make out any hints of a human presence in the city in the darkness of the buildings. After all, in their first impulses, the members of the expedition occupied a fairly large space inside the Central Spire, which led to the automatic activation of many systems—including those in the Central Spire. I seemed to be on one of the piers, since I managed to distinguish the enormous hulk of the city's main structure in the darkness to the side of me. And in the massive building, there wasn't a single glowing window—which is physically impossible if someone were there. If there were at least someone in the city.
I have a suspicion that the absence of even the slightest illumination throughout the city is proof that the energy sources powering Atlantis are on the verge of exhaustion. If the energy counter hits zero... honestly, I don't want to check that.
I need to get out. If everything is as dismal as I think, then I should reach the Central Spire—the tallest building in the city—as quickly as possible and use a Puddle Jumper. The latter is a small ship intended for... intended for many things. But the main thing is that it can fly through a Stargate. And those are that big thing that...
Oh, to hell with it!
Everything in order!
The inevitable has already happened—I'm in deep shit. And the faster I find a way to get out of it, the better.
For some reason, I remembered the Voice's words that the "others" were not as compliant as I was. Maybe there are others here like me. "Isekai" travelers who have bored everyone to bloody tears. But judging by the silence and darkness in the city, I highly doubt it...
Alright, the head is working, the hands are doing.
Turning to the lockers I had discovered earlier, I began my looting. Even if there is an alarm, I frankly won't be against it if someone comes to my aid. In such a situation, I simply don't care who it will be.
There were three of them in total. And, without suffering from any pangs of conscience that I might be digging through the belongings of dead people, I proceeded to examine the shelves.
The search lasted about ten minutes, and everything I found I piled onto the surface of the laboratory table where I had woken up.
My first catch was clothes and footwear. Comfortable ankle boots with a high top on... not laces, not a zipper, not "Velcro"... something like self-tightening regulators. It smelled like "Back to the Future." Fine, it's not for me to choose.
A milk-colored uniform with gray and brown inserts, resembling a military uniform—trousers, underwear, a tunic, and a short-sleeved T-shirt. If the Ancients have the same approach to the placement of buttons on clothes, then I've got a male version. The lack of a tapered waist inspires optimism.
It seems that there is indeed justice in the universe after all.
Good, the clothes and footwear are present. Hmm, even a semblance of socks. They resemble worn-out soccer socks, to be honest, but as in the case with the underwear, as soon as you put them on, they immediately conform to the figure.
Convenient.
As a bonus, there was a belt with a thigh holster and straps for fastening. Fits, I'll take it. It would also be desirable to test my luck to the end and find a weapon.
This is the male version of the uniform being discussed. [image:1]
Another acquisition was a capacious backpack made of soft but extremely dense material. It really does resemble a backpack—two shoulder straps, a handle for vertical carrying... only, instead of the usual zipper, it has a magnetic one.
The outer side, shining in the light, felt like plastic to the touch, but I'd bet my life it's harder than it seems. Memory helpfully suggested that such backpacks appeared in the series—during the evacuation from the city, some Ancients were leaving with them through the gate. And there surely must be something interesting inside it. Like a seasoned looter, I didn't keep myself waiting long, immediately studying the contents of the find.
Looking at nearly a hundred small briquettes, the size of a small chocolate bar, wrapped in transparent packaging that looked like polyethylene, I didn't wonder long about the purpose of these delicious-looking products. Quickly tearing the packaging off one of them, I bit off a small piece. In small doses, I won't get poisoned, and if it's nasty, I'll get rid of it.
Of course, it's just like the Ancients to store rat poison this way... but I doubt something like that.
Well, it's something between children's play-dough and hematogen. Not tasty, but it satisfied the hunger. After waiting a few minutes—to see if what I swallowed would cause a gag reflex or some other reaction in the body—almost without chewing, I put three pieces into my mouth. The Ancients built ships and instruments that lasted at least tens of thousands of years. Let's hope their food has a similar shelf life. My stomach took kindly to the product, and feeling full, I proceeded to search the last locker.
Unlike the other two, this one was divided into two parts by a horizontal shelf. On the upper one, I discovered what instilled in me confidence in the day ahead. Although, who among us knows what it will be like, tomorrow's bottom.
However, a futuristic-looking energy pistol cannot but please. I remember such ones were used by the humanoid Replicators...
God, I watched this series twenty years ago! Yes, I rewatched the most interesting episodes a couple of times, but I can't possibly remember such things after all this time, can I?! I had more important things in my life to concentrate on things like this... Marina, family, work, friends... achievements and failures...
But I remember them somehow quite vaguely, as if it were so long ago... I don't like this. But right now, there is no time to dig into myself—I'll deal with it when I'm safe.
If I am, of course.
Energy pistol. [image:2]
A somewhat... unusual layout for a weapon, and all these crystals instead of a habitual barrel... Fine, those are details and a matter of habit. Most importantly, on the weapon, in the area where a firearm would have a slide and a chamber, there is a scale with square indicators. And this scale, just like the crystal barrel, is not illuminated. Whether I take it in my hand or not.
Is it malfunctioning? Drained?
The pistol fit comfortably in my hand, and the soft trigger literally provoked my finger to press it. But I had no plans to conduct target practice in a closed room. Therefore, the weapon went into the thigh holster and settled in comfortably.
I'm not complaining, but this is starting to get scary. Everything is coming together a bit too well. Or am I simply looking for a black cat in a black room because of the shock?
The question that had flashed briefly—where does this thing get its energy from—resolved itself. On the holster, there were several pockets in which rested a pair of small—the size of a pinky phalanx—blue crystals in the form of tiny octagonal prisms.
And in the butt of the pistol, I saw exactly such a little slot... Coincidence? I don't think so.
Shoving the crystal where it belonged, I gave a satisfied grunt—the weapon emitted a pleasant sound and the appropriate elements lit up. Once again, I overcame the desire to fire it for a test. I stopped myself only with the thought that I definitely might not like the consequences.
The final find for me was a device that in the series was called a "life-signs detector." A small device in a semi-transparent white case, resembling silicone, with a touch screen from edge to edge and several buttons at the bottom of the case. Resembling a grotesque PDA because of its shape and size. Но, на самом деле это весьма продвинутый компактный компьютер. I remember that with its help, they searched for life signals, radiation, energy sources... A useful thing.
And also, it has one unvoiced function. Or rather, "it's not a feature, it's a bug." The thing is that the "life-signs detector" is one of those very complex Ancient devices that worked...
Another beep, barely audible to the ear, and the black screen came to life, drawing several schematic lines, partitions, and... a blinking white dot in the center for me.
One life signal.
Mine.
Without noticing it, I exhaled with relief.
The scanner worked in the hands of those who had the ATA gene. Yes, the ancestors of humans protected their best devices from use by enemies and other clumsy monkeys, setting them up so that only someone who had a specific genetic sequence, the ATA gene, could work with them. For the rest, such jokes are nothing more than a monument to another, more developed civilization.
However, this didn't always save them from the mischievous hands of the series' heroes.
This is what the "life-signs detector" looks like, also known as the Ancient Scanner, or the Ancient PDA. [image:3]
So, the dilemma with the gene was resolved in minutes.
Either I have the ATA gene, or this specific device works without it. Which I strongly doubt.
They say that there is a principle of balance in the universe—somewhere troubles await you, and somewhere there are pleasant surprises.
I hope that my white streak hasn't ended. And I really don't want a black one to follow it, and after that, the end of the zebra...
So, without losing a minute, I dressed in the found uniform, secured the holster on my right thigh, threw the backpack over my back, and, holding the "detector" in my left hand and the weapon in my right, headed for the exit.
A light movement over the three vertically arranged crystals in the panel to the right of the door leaf—and there I was, already out in the corridor.
It stretched for many meters to the right and left of me, but, figuring that the outlines of the Central Spire I had seen were still to the right of my current location, I resolutely headed in the chosen direction.
Despite the clothes, which turned out to be quite light but sufficiently warm, the cold in the rest of the rooms still made itself felt. Leaving a decent distance behind me, wandering through corridors and floors, I felt that, contrary to the city's mechanisms hidden in the depths of the walls, floor, and ceiling coming to life at my approach, my ears, fingers, and nose were still freezing. Surely, the city was still "revving up," reacting to my appearance.
There is no point in sitting still on my ass and waiting for rescue. I think the Voice didn't send me here for no reason—obviously, there are some serious problems in the lost city of the Ancients. Are there any doubts that I am on Atlantis? No, none at all. Are there any doubts that I am alone in the city? Also no.
The convenient interface of the "detector," intuitively understandable after several trials and errors, helped me orient myself in space. Besides detailed floor plans of the small space around me, with skillful and characteristic movements of two fingers on the screen, I managed to change the display scale. And, having reached the maximum zoom-out, I confirmed my theory that I had woken up, after all, on one of the outer piers. Or more precisely—on one of the "small" ones. They are narrower at the base than the "large" ones.
Map of the city of Atlantis. [image:4]
The PDA dutifully gave me the city map. But it's just a map, like a blueprint of a device on drafting paper. No interactivity. Well, or I don't know how to launch such a function.
Right now, that's not important—I need to get to the Central Spire to get answers to my other questions.
Having covered a considerable distance through corridors and stairs, I stopped to catch my breath by a large window. Strangely enough, it became "brighter" outside. With the naked eye, I could see the contours of dozens of buildings. Some—even in detail. Those that were closer, even quite clearly.
A view of the buildings of Atlantis underwater. [image:5]
Contriving a way, I looked through the window from the bottom up. As I had expected—through the thickness of the water, and a considerable one at that, the pale rays of the local sun were falling onto the city... Mmm, no, still not the Sun, not a sun, but a star. That would be more correct.
Practically indistinguishable against the background of the darkness of the oceanic depths, somewhere there, above the highest point of the city, was the transparent film of the energy shield. The only thing separating the structure from thousands of tons of water and destructive force, before which even the Ancients and their miracles of construction are unable to withstand. At least, in the series, they didn't.
After all, the city is several million years old. And even if it is essentially a hermetic spaceship, for a total sinking, a few punctures in one part, failed flood-locking sensors in another, and doors not pressing tightly in a third are enough...
I don't want to test my luck to the very bottom on my own skin.
There are thousands of questions in my head, but they all will wait.
I am on Atlantis.
In the Pegasus galaxy.
Something is happening here.
And the Voice decided that I would be able to help fix it. Well, or I shouldn't flatter myself—they simply "pressured" me as the most compliant one. Although, I didn't play hard to get for long myself. I had a chance to save my beloved—and I took it.
Do I regret it?
Not a bit.
If I had to—I'd do it again. And again, and again, and again.
Atlantis underwater. [image:6]
Damn, my nerves are shot. I need to be calmer. Otherwise, I won't last longer than I want to.
Finishing my breather, I checked with the PDA and jogged toward the city's transport booth.
It's time to get to the Central Spire as quickly as possible.
There is something there... someone... who can give answers to my questions. At the very least, I should try to ask them and flash some erudition and after-knowledge. Or, in the end, I can simply start making threats.