Something about her—the way she carried herself, the way she spoke, the way she acted—made me trust her. Compared to the unexpectedly prim Ganos Lal, the former member of the Atlantis Council made an exclusively positive impression.
I'd thought Morgana would be the one acting that way, but…
"I understand your confusion, Mikhail," the Ancient said. "Our community was also shocked by the General's action. Ganos Lal… they were close. And his action, contradicting everything we fought for, everything we believe in… It upset many."
"How can a desperate plea for help be upsetting?" I asked. "You told me that all the Ascended in the Milky Way have been destroyed. You don't know what's happening in that vast galaxy. The Earth expedition to Atlantis you foresaw was supposed to happen months ago, but nothing has changed. And your most illustrious military commander decided it was necessary to bring someone in to help. Since none of you decided to become human again…"
"The process of Ascension is not a game of yo-yo," the Ancient countered. Seeing the surprise on my face, she gave a modest smile. "Forgive me. I involuntarily sensed your thoughts…"
"No matter," I waved it off, continuing to pace around the Ascended one. "That's the least of my worries right now."
"Usually, humans guard their thoughts from outsiders," the Ancient noted. "And yet… now I understand why the General turned specifically to you for help."
"Because he could provide motivation," I shrugged. "I needed what he can do. And he needed someone who would agree. And who, apparently, has at least some idea of the conditions they'll have to operate in."
"And he also saw in you an inquisitive, inventive mind, courage, a willingness to go to the end," Melia listed. "That and much more. It's possible you reminded him of himself in his younger years."
"Wouldn't it be easier to ask him?" I inquired. "You punished him in some sophisticated way, but so that he's always in plain sight…"
Hearing no answer, I looked the Ancient in the face.
A mask of despair and slight panic was frozen upon it.
Not that I give a damn, but…
"You didn't punish him," I whispered.
The Ascended one offered a sad smile. She was smiling suspiciously often during our conversation. If I remember correctly, a smile is an attempt to win trust and gain favor.
"The rules of Ascension were written long before our time," the Ancient said. "And the punishments for violating them… are also great. Interference in the affairs of living beings is only a minor crime in the eyes of the Community. But time travel, influencing the space-time continuum… We keep an eye on the universe in which we live. And it is not in our interest to allow it to be turned into a dead wasteland," Melia assured me. "Influencing space and time almost always brings a harsh reaction from the Ascended."
Now it was clear why, when the Earth expedition first arrived on Atlantis, died almost to a man, but was able to use the time machine of the Ancient named Janus, that fact—a guest from the future—caused anger and condemnation from the other Lanteans. It wasn't just grumbling. They were afraid that those who had Ascended before them would punish the remnants of the civilization.
A strange society they have.
"And all the more so—crossing the boundaries of universes…" Melia continued. "Little could be worse than that. Such actions require more serious sanctions. Otherwise, there will be no discipline."
Wait a minute… what did they do to the Voice?! Bah, to Hippaforalkus?!
"What did you do to him?!" Clenching my hands into fists, I stepped toward the Ancient.
"Mikhail, I ask you to calm down. We both understand that it is by no means this that interests you," the Ascended one said. "The General fulfilled his part of the bargain before he took you from your universe. You need not worry about that."
"Thanks for that, at least. So, what did you do to him?"
There remained a chance that I could find this guy and ask him a couple of questions. Sooner or later.
"I'm afraid I cannot answer that question," a mournful expression appeared on Melia's face.
I see. The answer would influence my future actions too directly. Telling me the truth is essentially the same as sending me to him, if Hippaforalkus survived.
"Fine, let's assume so," I said. "Though I doubt he pulled this off in secret from everyone…"
"He had like-minded associates," Melia said. "They helped him punch holes between universes and carry out his plan."
"And they…"
"Are dead. The General completely exhausted their energy. No, it was not murder—according to our information, they took such a step voluntarily. A sacrifice in the name of the greater good."
"Well, yes, of course. A bit too convoluted a combination," I admitted. "I repeat—it would have been much easier to find an assistant here, in Pegasus. I'm sure your descendants with the ATA gene are here."
"You know perfectly well they are here," Melia said. "Just as you know they are hardly developed enough to accept the fact of Atlantis's existence and the technologies contained within it at the proper level. And we, unfortunately, do not have the time to deal with their training. Moreover, the General acted tactically correctly. Violations of the space-time continuum of this level have not occurred since the beginning of time… He knew the Community would not react immediately to such interference. And he foresaw the fact that the appearance on Atlantis of well-known and prepared people from other realities would attract our attention sooner than placing a consciousness from another universe into a body created on Atlantis."
"Why?"
"Moving objects and organisms between universes is harmful to the receiving universe," the Ancient said. "Realities vibrate at a specific frequency. Moving part of one reality into another leads to significant distortions. The longer this happens, the more horrific the consequences."
Running her words through my head, I clarified:
"You answered because you know I won't be able to use this knowledge, right?"
"We will stop you if you attempt to cross the boundaries of universes," Melia promised. "I assure you, we will not limit ourselves to simple suggestion. Stopping such violations is in our interest."
"Why?"
"If we do not do it, others will," the Ascended one said.
Well, yes, well, yes… And for the heroes of the series, everything happened somehow without the admonition of the Ascended. Perhaps because it's "allowed" for some and "forbidden" for others? Because the former must do what is planned so the universe gets the necessary push. And the actions of others will only lead to negativity?
Melia looked me in the eyes and smiled.
"You understand," she stated. "That is good. I think you will agree to help us."
"You?" I was surprised.
"Despite the fact that the General no longer exis—" she fell silent, catching herself mid-word. "The General will no longer be able to influence reality, but that for which he did what he did will not resolve itself."
"I suppose it would be out of place to suggest that you yourselves go to the Milky Way and find out everything there?"
"When the anomaly first manifested, we did exactly that," the Ancient assured me. "None of the scouts returned. As we understand it, whatever is killing the Ascended in the Milky Way operates on a regular basis."
"Merlin's device?" I suggested.
Moros, also known as Merlin, created the Sangraal—a mechanism that destroyed the Ascended. Но Ганос Лал уничтожила устройство. However, she spared the life of the one who created it.
"We do not know," Melia admitted. "That is why we are asking you to discover the nature of the threat. And eliminate it."
"In other words, save your lives," I said.
"Precisely so," the woman nodded. "The anomaly is slowly expanding. It won't be very long before it reaches Pegasus."
"How long?"
"I'm afraid we do not know."
"How so?" I was surprised. "Isn't there a pattern to the expansion?"
"There is," another apologetic smile.
"But I have to figure that out on my own, don't I?" I narrowed my eyes.
"I'm afraid so," she turned sad. "These are not our whims. These are the rules of the Ascended."
"Which you don't intend to break even to save yourselves?" I was surprised.
"Yes."
"Seems like your survival instinct is a bit faulty," I muttered. "Any living being, if it's in its right mind, worries about its survival. Even if you are more developed than ordinary humans, that doesn't mean…"
"I'm afraid it does mean that," Melia said. "To become an Ascended means to renounce earthly attachments, obligations, and laws. The release of spiritual energy for the transition to a new level of being."
"Uh-huh… And I'm hearing this because Ascension isn't in the cards for me? Right?"
"The probability of that… is minimal."
"But it exists!"
"The magnitude of the probability is such that it is customarily called an error," Melia tilted her head slightly. "I think you understand why."
Oh, I understood.
"Because my character doesn't allow me to run away from problems for good," I said. "To fight while there's a chance. The General wouldn't have called for help from someone who would step aside at the first convenient opportunity."
"You are an intelligent man, Mikhail. At least in the matter of life philosophy."
Could this be considered a prim mockery? I think not.
"How much longer will the shield hold?" I asked.
"I cannot answer that question."
Too many questions. And a categorical understanding that I wouldn't get answers.
Sad.
"I could use some help," I said. "Without knowledge of your language, an understanding of the technology… searching for the problem could drag on for years. It could cost you your lives."
"We are willing to take the risk," the Ascended one said. "I understand your motives for wanting to make life easier for yourself. But to go further than Hippaforalkus went… We simply do not have the right. It would be interference. Но я уверена, что вы найдете выход из сложившейся ситуации. You've been lucky enough as it is," she spread her hands, "you're in Atlantis. Our home, the repository of our knowledge. What help could be greater than that?"
"Even a slightly charged ZPM would be worthwhile help," I admitted.
Melia gave me a sympathetic look. It's how one looks at a child who says such heresy to their parents' faces… While both the child and the parents understand the truth, but the performance must take place in its entirety.
"I see," I sighed. "The rescue of a drowning person is the job of the drowning person himself."
"In this case, that expression can be taken literally," Melia assured me. "Believe me, Mikhail, I am sorry that neither I nor my comrades can help you further."
I would have liked to respond with Stanislavski's words, but the mood for joking had somehow vanished.
Not only had the clarification of the situation only added depressive moments, but I hadn't even received direct help—not even hints had been voiced. Only "you'll manage on your own, soldier! Here's an assault rifle without ammo, there's the enemy army—bayonet them all!"
"If several months have passed since the Earth expedition was supposed to arrive, how do you explain the fact that I saw the city flooding? Exactly like in the series. Shouldn't it have happened earlier?"
"A misconception," Melia stated. "The expedition consisted of several hundred people. And immediately after arrival, they dispersed over a large area of the city, forcing its systems into an emergency awakening to provide proper conditions for the existence of a large contingent of sentients. Not to mention," she looked at the deactivated hologram control terminal, "that this device, the stasis chamber, a number of other systems used in the events known to you when the expedition appeared, consume a large amount of energy. The cascade launch of some systems led to the activation of others—and so on throughout the city. You've managed to avoid that—so far. But luck is only the residue of design, isn't it?"
I understand what she's saying.
In the series, the expedition played the captivating voice-message from Melia at least twice to understand the situation. Plus, the stasis chamber was used to sustain the life of that very first expedition leader who, in the original events, went into the past. And I think that's only the tip of the iceberg of examples of wasting scarce energy.
"To compensate for the energy loss from powering all systems when the expedition arrived, the Atlantis computer reduced the size of the shield covering the city, right?" I asked.
"Correct. In your case, that happened because of the activation of the dialing device," the Ascended one said. "So the energy consumption rates in your case are even lower than in the events known to you. Thus, the energy levels of the city's batteries are currently the same as they were after the expedition arrived. With the only difference being that you activated fewer of the city's systems, and consequently, you have a little more time until complete exhaustion than the Earthlings had at their disposal."
"At least some silver lining," I grunted. Then, I clarified. "So, right now we're exactly in the time window when the expedition was supposed to arrive the first time and drown in its entirety?"
"Yes."
The hunch about Janus's machine and the "primacy" of the expedition turned out to be correct. As was everything it entailed: the lack of a system to save the city when the ZPMs were depleted. Or "batteries," as Melia called them.
"So what next?"
"I cannot answer that question."
"Then let's just reason," I suggested. "If Atlantis doesn't fall into the hands of the Earthlings, then they won't improve their position in the war, won't find the weapon against their enemies, and so on. That will lead to defeat, right?"
"If humanity in the Milky Way is still alive," Melia corrected me. "But we know absolutely nothing about that."
Curious. And yet some of her answers aren't all that "evasive." It seems the Ancient is walking the edge and sharing the information she has.
"Hmm… I won't say the fact of the expedition not interfering with the Wraith's hibernation saddens me," I admitted. "Maybe the locals will live in peace for another fifty years."
"Only if the anomaly doesn't overtake Pegasus sooner," Melia noted.
What a soul of a woman, eh? Doesn't let me forget the ultimate goal.
"And what will you do if I just pack up and leave?" I asked. "If I don't fulfill the obligations I've taken on."
"Nothing," Melia answered calmly. "We do not interfere in the affairs of living beings."
"Don't directly interfere," I clarified. "Which means if you happen to accidentally push a brick somewhere, it's not your fault if I'm walking underneath just as it falls on my head. Right?"
The Ascended one limited herself to a simple smile.
Somehow I stopped liking her facial expressions.
"Well," I said dryly. "I shouldn't expect any more help from you, I've understood that. Anyway, thanks for the chat. If you get bored—drop in sometime. We'll have some tea, eat this," I pulled a bar from my backpack and twirled it between my fingers. "Whatever it is."
"I never liked them," Melia admitted. "Potentially, they were supposed to solve the problem of our limited food resources. But… their taste is very… specific."
"Means you made them from poor ingredients," I shrugged.
"When you're under siege, even whale blubber doesn't seem repulsive," the Ancient assured me.
And for some reason, I lost my appetite. Maybe because I remembered—the Lanteans taught the local whales to communicate with them. And then ate them.
I sighed resignedly.
"Friendship is magic," muttering the clichéd phrase, I put the bar back in my backpack. "And magic, as we know, is heresy…"
Melia's smile broadened slightly.
"That is exactly how Moros once characterized the proposal to install drinking fountains in every corridor," she said, for some unknown reason. "He was a conservative Lantean. But, while he reduced the number of installations, he still found the idea of a quantitative expansion of the devices bringing desalinated water to the city's public areas worthwhile."
"If you ever feel nostalgic for the past, you're more than welcome," I pointed hospitably toward the exit from the hologram room. "I won't turn down the company. And I can assure you, I'm from a respectable family, so I won't be fresh."
Melia looked at me intently with a surprised gaze. Her smile became unnatural. That happens when you realize your interlocutor has just talked utter nonsense, but you don't want to offend them.
"Thank you for the offer," she said. "I'm afraid I must decline. Мой смертный путь завершен. Potentially, of course, it is a good offer, but… only potentially."
"Why?" I asked.
"I'm afraid I cannot answer that question…"
"There aren't many of you," it dawned on me. "Not that many Ancients lived in Pegasus, and then you returned to the Milky Way. And it was there that you ascended… And then the anomaly happened…"
Melia stopped smiling.
"Your intellect potentially frightens me," she said. "Was that a hunch, or a conclusion?"
"Something in between," I muttered, digging through my memory. "The Ascended aren't just burning incense on their level of existence, are they?"
"I'm not sure I understand…"
"The reason you overlooked Hippaforalkus's actions," I snapped my fingers. "If you were doing nothing, you would have seen him plotting something. But you were busy. And what can beings of pure energy be busy with when nothing mortal interests them anymore?"
Melia looked at me without a shadow of a smile.
"In the series, the Ascended Ori told one of the heroes that the Ancients were busy hiding the galaxy populated by their descendants from the Ori's sight," I said, looking her in the eyes. "You wouldn't let them see the people they could convert to their faith. That's why you weren't all in the Milky Way when the anomaly started. Someone was covering them from the Ori, someone else—Pegasus. That's why you aren't ubiquitous and omniscient. That's why the rules are being broken—there are too few of you to keep track of everything, even within a single tiny galaxy like Pegasus. Hiding galaxies takes a lot of energy from you…"
Can a being made of light turn pale?
Turns out, it can.
"You don't have to answer, Melia," I said. "It's all clear as it is."
Not absolutely everything, but… Now I know: the Ascended won't be able to react to my actions instantly. One of them would have to "go off duty" to stop me.
And that already opens up room for maneuvers. Very large rooms for maneuver, in case I don't want to help them.
"It seems we underestimated you," Melia said in a voice stripped of any emotion. "Your intuition is well-developed."
"And I'm not complaining about my brains, either," I nodded, watching as she closed her eyes for a few seconds. "Warned your kinsmen that I know too much?"
"A lot, but not enough to make a decision about your elimination and the violation of the rules," the woman said. "We simply took some measures to ensure you don't aggravate the situation."
"And what measures are those?"
"I'm sorry, but you have one less ship left."
And you couldn't tell from her face that she was sorry.
"Janus's time machine," I guessed. "Deprived me of the chance to leave by slamming the door loudly."
"Rather, we prevented irreversible violations of the space-time continuum and changes to the timeline," she stated. "Potentially, that is much more dangerous than if you simply leave Atlantis, saving yourself rather than the city. It would be a pity if you acted that way."
Well, naturally.
Because I had hoped, in time, to figure that thing out and improve my situation by taking things in the past that I needed now. For example, ZPMs that were depleted in this time but held a charge in the deep past. Stocks of munitions, ships, finding certain technologies before they fall into the hands of the enemy.
"Except it's not me you're sorry for, but yourselves, right?" I asked. "Because if I leave, you'll have to get your hands thoroughly dirty to try and fix the situation again, won't you?"
Melia remained silent. And her answer wasn't needed—it was all clear anyway.
"You're afraid," I continued voicing my hunches. "You are afraid of death from the anomaly after all. But you don't want to, or you've convinced yourselves you can't, leave your post as Ascended. So you act through the hands of mortals. After all, you just need not to get burned while rigging cause-and-effect relationships…"
"Now you know," she said.
"I know," I echoed. "You're helpless. Practically. Which means I'll face the punishment for my actions, if at all, significantly later than I do something you don't like… For example, if I leave the dying city, you won't kill me with a lightning bolt on the spot."
"Potentially, the city can still be saved!" she almost cried out. "Its potential is enormous! I beg you to reconsider! If Atlantis survives, you will have at your disposal—not just potentially, but in reality—an advanced scientific and military base."
"Which didn't help you defeat even a more understandable enemy, the Wraith," I sighed. "And that was ten thousand years ago. And now, the city's potency is not quite like—"
"You simply don't see the Potentia-l benefit of saving Atlantis," Melia declared. "You are afraid of the potential problems you will face."
"What's this 'Potentia-l benefit'?" I was surprised. "Is it really that hard to speak my native language?"
"No," she cut me off. "I did not make a mistake. You are simply unable to understand all your own potential—and the city's…"
There was a lot of "potentiality" in her speech. And "Potentia" too, although that's not even a Russian word, but…
I froze in my tracks, turning a bewildered gaze toward Melia hovering before me.
How did she say it? "Potentially, the city can still be saved"? "Potentia-l benefit of saving Atlantis"?
When hints became insufficient, she switched to what were practically blatant clues.
"Potential, you say?" I asked, narrowing my eyes. "I don't argue, the city has potential. And I'm worth something too. But if I weren't here alone, but, say, had an entire potential Brotherhood ready to preserve my secrets and capabilities even at the cost of their lives… This castle would have stood for ten thousand years."
Melia opened her mouth to say something in response, but froze. Blinking a few times, the Ascended one gave a timid smile and a barely perceptible nod. She showed that she understood that I had understood her hints.
Potential answers, these were, not just hints.
The hint was more than transparent, and if it weren't for my thoughts circling around the problems with energy and ZPMs, I'd never have understood it in a million years. It seems the Lantean realized this and gave as many clues as she could. And then, seeing I didn't understand, she purposefully distorted the word to trigger an associative chain.
"You've understood everything correctly," she said. "Save Atlantis, and any endeavor of yours will be successful. The city…"
"… possesses great potential," I finished for her, grinning from ear to ear. Well, of course, what an idiot I am.
There is a chance to save the city. And the answer lay practically on the surface. If I hadn't been so busy with self-reflection, I would have thought of it long ago.
"You are thinking correctly," the Ancient said, as if reading my thoughts. "I am glad you have understood the full significance of our legacy, and the threat that emanates from the unknown enemy in the Milky Way. I hope you agree to fulfill the mission you have taken upon yourself?"
Something tells me the time for bargaining has passed.
But the time for ultimatums hasn't.
"I agree," I assured her. "Except there are a few conditions."
The smile vanished from Melia's face as soon as she heard the first of them.
But she and her comrades simply had no option to refuse.