Voyage to the Origin. Book I

Chapter 1

The vast cosmos, our solar system. An asteroid belt, millions of kilometers from Earth, composed of thousands of deep-frozen rocks of various sizes and shapes, hanging motionless in the vacuum, creating a false illusion of eternal calm. In the shadow of one such asteroid, a ship was lurking; the shape of its hull resembled a multifaceted triangle. The ship's hull bore marks that indicated it had passed through Earth's atmospheric layer many times, at very high speeds. The ship's bridge was not large, oval in shape, and contained no instruments, control panels, steering wheels, or any other ship controls. A single screen occupied the entire wall in front of the two pilot seats, displaying the endless emptiness of the surrounding space. The ship's systems and the ship itself were in sleep mode, which provided maximum camouflage, and coupled with a new-generation stealth field generator, it allowed it to remain unnoticed by any chance visitor.

The creature occupying one of the pilot seats was not human. Ninety-nine percent of its body was artificial. A fully synthetic body that provided its owner with immense strength. The body itself was completely covered in composite armor scales that shimmered with a green hue in the light. Only the eyes, alive and yet cold, betrayed it as a sentient being. This creature was Gena, he was from the race of Reptimens. Several hundred years ago, he had received his synthetic body. Reptimens by nature live very long lives, two or three hundred years, but can live longer under certain circumstances. Such circumstances were status and position within the Reptimens hierarchy. All high-born Reptimens were offered the opportunity to extend their lives by completely replacing their biological bodies with synthetic ones. Not all high-born Reptimens could afford this, only the very wealthy or those close to the emperor. Gena was lucky in this regard; he, like his fifteen brothers, was born into a very high-born clan. Gena's real name was Bugushalz Genaralsiz Veykos, given to him at birth on the planet Sergaz. The Bugushalz Veykos clan was two steps below the emperor's clan, and his clan was considered one of the most influential on the planet.

About thirty years ago, the emperor entrusted Gena with a very important diplomatic mission to the planet Earth. His main tasks were to build relations with the humanoids inhabiting this planet and to prevent the inhabitants of Earth from becoming the suzerains of the ancient race of Archons. Several missions conducted on Earth were successful; he managed to negotiate cooperation and protection from the Reptimens with the rulers of the most influential countries. But the Archons entered the political game, seeking complete control over the planet of humans. As a result of this confrontation, ten years ago, during another visit to a secret meeting on the planet with Earth's representatives, an assassination attempt was made on him, in which his biological body was seventy-five percent damaged. He was helped to survive by a man who dragged the remnants of his body after a powerful explosion to the ship and managed to shove him into a medical capsule. This allowed Gena to survive and receive his synthetic body. Later, this man became his only friend on this planet, but not for long.

Gena interrupted his memories, got up from the chair, and moved towards the cabin with the medical capsule, where a man named Pyotr lay. He needed to restore not only his body, damaged by the explosion, but also his memory. Over the past few weeks, a lot had happened in the lives of Gena and his new friend Pyotr. Another assassination attempt on Gena at the SVR special storage base forced Gena to accelerate the development of events, which could now lead to an unpredictable chain of events. Until this moment, Gena had at least some strategy and plan of action; now he was relying on his intuition, which was absolutely uncharacteristic of his race. The first thing he did was take from the planet the human offspring of his old human friend named Pyotr. Pyotr was about twenty-five years old. He lived in the city of Moscow and worked as an engineer repairing electronic systems, which were very ancient by Gena's technological standards.

Now Gena was working with the virtual panel of the med-capsule where Pyotr lay. The most difficult part was implanting into his body the implant of the Ancients, which he had stolen. In Earth's science fiction books, it is described in different ways, but the name "neural network" suits it best. A sufficiently advanced technology of the Ancients, allowing interaction with various electronic devices on the ship and on many planets; without this implant, a being can do absolutely nothing. The second most difficult task was to implant memories into Pyotr's memory. The memories were about the meeting and friendship between Gena and his father, who Gena is, and much more. The main thing was that Pyotr wouldn't die of fright at their first meeting here. Well, the human brain is not ready for such events without proper preparation. Sometimes information can even kill. He remembered this from his first meeting with a human, forty years ago. At first, the man was frightened, and a few seconds later, he grabbed his chest and died. Gena could not afford such mistakes in Pyotr's case, so after working for more than forty Earth hours, he decided to take a break. Sitting down in a large, soft chair standing nearby, he took out a cigar and lit it. Gena really liked various human things, their way of life, and much more. For example, he really liked alcohol, although it dissolved very quickly and didn't have the same effect on him as on humans due to his race's metabolism. He liked the process itself. Smoking gave him not only pleasure but also calmed him. His friend, Pyotr's father, had taught him this. They often talked for a long time on various topics and smoked. And now Gena was thinking about what was really happening on Earth. Why did the followers of the Cult of Darkness from the Archon race attack him and try to kill Pyotr? How did they manage to infiltrate the closed Russian organization SVR? The main thing that worried Gena was what he and Pyotr should do next. Where should they go? For now, they are hanging in their system, and the power plants are charging from the large star; they can't move anywhere. But when everything is ready for the flight, where should they go?

***

Darkness… How long have I been here? I didn't know how much time had passed, hours or days of my imprisonment in the darkness, but suddenly a bright light hit my eyes. I swore to myself. It took me a great effort to open my eyes. Naturally, I couldn't see anything because there was a complete veil over my eyes. As soon as I could see more or less, I:

– "Holy shit!" – I exclaimed – "You're Gena!" – I hissed, poking at the glass lid, and the lid slid open.

– "What are you yelling about?" – the Reptiloid asked, leaning towards me.

– "Gena! What the hell happened?" – I croaked.

– "Quiet, lie down, don't get up. How do you feel?" – asked Gena.

– "Really crappy, Gennadiy, really, my whole-body hurts. What happened?"

– "Petya, it's quite a story, just don't get nervous and lie down, and I'll tell you everything. So. What do you remember from the recent events?"

– "The last thing I remember is someone shooting at me with some kind of unearthly weapon. Then you show up and an explosion. What the hell is going on?" – I exclaimed.

– "I see. Calm down and listen."

– "Where am I?" – I asked.

– "Will you shut up already, Petya, and listen to me." – he roared in his bass voice.

I waved my hand at Gena dismissively and closed my eyes, in a helpless attempt to put everything in place in my head. Gena, yeah, like he'd let me think peacefully, sure, wait, that's not like this crocodile.

– "Petya. For your information, I'm a telepath and I read your thoughts. Call me a crocodile one more time, and I'll eat you" – he looked at me in such a way that I somehow believed him – "Now for the main thing. It's very unpleasant for me to tell you this. But you, Petya, are a clone, and we are on the Moon."

– "What? How the?" – I shouted, but my dry throat only produced a rasp.

– "I see, Petya, your sense of humor is still poor. As it was, so it remained. That was a joke. You are not a clone, and no, we are not on the Moon. You are on my ship, and we are in space."

– "I'm a clone? Gena, how is that possible?"

– "It's possible, but you are not a clone, I was joking, Petya, calm down, can't I even joke anymore?" – Gena smiled, showing all his teeth, and a chill ran down my spine at the sight. – "Gena, let's take it from the beginning, in order, I remember that—" – Gena, as usual, didn't let me finish, stopping me with a gesture of his paw.

– "Stop. In order, then listen, but first drink this magnificent, invigorating herbal drink, it will perk you up a bit." – Gena handed me a plastic cup with a transparent liquid. And I emptied it in one gulp.

– "Gena, damn you, that's pure alcohol!" – I croaked.

– "I told you it would invigorate you," – Gena replied, smiling. – "Get up and get dressed, you need to eat and put yourself in order. We are going to have a very long and thorough conversation."

Chapter 2

After pulling on my clothes, the same ones I was wearing back on Earth, I followed Gena out. We moved to the mess hall, if that word was even suitable for describing this room. In the center stood a huge oval metal table, surrounded by such enormous chairs that five people could fit in one without bothering each other. It took me a few tries, but I finally managed to climb onto one of them—Gena helped—but once I was on this throne, I felt like a five-year-old child put in an adult's chair. It was clear that both the table and the furniture on this ship were designed for beings much larger than me. Honestly, from the outside, these chairs didn't seem comfortable or ergonomic, but once I sat down, I realized how convenient and comfortable they were. Gena placed a box of candies in front of me; on a metal plate, there was bread, sausage, cheese, and next to it stood a two-liter bottle of water.

– "Gen, can I ask where such 'deficit' items come from on this ship? I've already understood that we're in space and far from my planet. But where did all this come from? And another question, what else is there?" – I asked with a smile.

– "There is, lots of things to eat, troglodyte. You eat, and then you can conduct an inventory yourself of everything I brought from your planet. Before you start your meal, answer one question first. How did your father die?"

Gena surprised me with his appearance and his behavior; if not for his looks, I would have said he was just a very tall human. But I definitely wasn't expecting that question. I stared at him wide-eyed, but Gena leaned back in his chair, crossed his legs, and calmly looked at me. I decided there was no point in lying, and why should I? I decided to tell him everything as it was. I told him how we lived all together. How I studied, how my father and I played our game, 'guess the code on the diplomat's case'. How I found my father already dead, who had just stepped out for five minutes before work to take out the trash to the garbage chute on our floor. How I lived and what I did until our meeting. Gena silently listened to my story, then took out a cigar, lit it, and said:

– "Okay, things are becoming more or less clear to me." – Gena replied, releasing a huge cloud of smoke.

– "What's clear? Personally, I don't understand anything, Gena. What happened to me, what's with these questions? Gen, tell me, I want to know everything." – I said and looked intently at Gena. Gena nodded and began:

– "Then listen. Over a hundred years ago, my emperor entrusted me with a diplomatic mission to your planet, to establish contact with your race and continue negotiations with you, and our protection over your development, with a subsequent exit into the far reaches of space in the future. But back then, I didn't have the classified information I possess now. Once a year, I flew to your planet for a visit lasting a few days. I met with representatives of your countries; these negotiations were held in secret, at various facilities on your planet—a couple of times in the USA, more than five times in your country, twice in Europe. The negotiations went very well; we started providing you with technologies, I handed over various samples of technical devices that my race used thousands of years ago to your representatives. Forty years ago, I flew in for another round of negotiations, which were held in your country, not far from Moscow. My ship landed in a closed hangar where this meeting was scheduled. The negotiations were very difficult; your representatives demanded more technologies from us, especially military ones, which we did not want to give you due to your unstable planetary politics and the policies of individual countries. During the negotiations, the US representative stood up and demonstratively left the discussion platform, and representatives from other countries began to leave after him. The representative of the Russian side tried to calm me down and assured me of complete loyalty to our previous agreements. I decided the negotiations were over and was heading to my ship when, at that moment, an explosion rang out, which tore off a large part of my body. Thanks to the different structure of my body, my vital organs remained intact; I stayed alive. After the explosion, panic broke out in the hangar, and they seemed to have forgotten about me, but one man took me by part of my paw and dragged me towards the ship. I remember being surprised that this slender man was dragging my heavy body. When he managed, with great difficulty, to haul me into the ship, I was able to explain that I needed to be connected to a medical capsule so I could return to my planet. I don't know how long it took him, as I periodically lost consciousness, but he managed to drag me and attached a medical kit to my body. After half an hour, I was able to take off and headed to my planet, where they made this synthetic body for me." – Gena patted his chest with satisfaction. Taking another drag, he continued – "Pyotr, that was your father," – Gena said ironically.

Perhaps the expression on my face, full of surprise, or my dropped jaw interrupted Gena's story. He looked at me and said:

– "Pyotr. Our meeting is fate. After I, half-dead, reached my planet, the best doctors took care of me, and they suggested creating this body. Sometime later, already having a synthetic body, I returned to your planet, and honestly, I really wanted to rip everyone's heads off. I was so angry that I probably could have destroyed half, if not all, of your race. But when I flew to the pre-arranged place, your father met me. He was alone, and we talked for a very long time and in detail. First, he informed me that the sabotage had been prepared and carried out by someone from his 'office'. Secondly, while I was away, the humans had already agreed to become suzerains with the Archons. Thirdly, he was sure that some of his colleagues and other representatives of special services were negotiating with the Archons parallel to ours. They needed time, so it was decided to eliminate me. That is, there was an undercover struggle within your special services. But there were those who were against the Reptiloids. Just as there were those who were for our race and adhered to our agreements. Your father was tasked with informing me about this and, if possible, working with me. But since, in essence, the decision on suzerainty with the Archons had already been made, our contacts with him transitioned to illegal work. I was officially granted the status of a diplomat at the bunch of chatterboxes at the UN. The status of a diplomatic representative of another race, with security guarantees for staying on your planet, but only on the territory of your country. Your father and I began to unravel the tangle of betrayal and the interests of the Archons. We learned a lot, including about who the operators of the Abrio Center are, and why your planet was so needed under the complete control of the Archons."

Our conversation was sometimes interrupted by my trips to the restroom or by me preparing food for myself. During Gena's story, I sometimes interrupted him and asked questions—who he was, what planet he was from, what he did. Gena answered and told stories from his two-hundred-year life. Gena lit his cigar again and said:

– "Let's get back to the Archons. Previously, we knew little about this race. What we know now is that this race lives from three hundred to five hundred years, thanks to some ancient technology. The race and the planets in the conglomerate are ruled solely by the emperor. Our races are in a neutral status towards each other. There is no trade or technology exchange between us; essentially, we ignore each other. But we are fighting in space for intelligent planets and their representatives. We try not to engage in military conflicts with each other, but sometimes there are skirmishes that we try not to pay much attention to. We, like the Archons, have our own spies; we wanted to learn more about their race, how they live, what technologies they have, and so on. Now we know that several tens of thousands of years ago, their space reconnaissance fleet stumbled upon a new technology of the Ancients. The Ancient race is a race whose traces we find in different corners of space; their technologies are millions of years ahead of our current development. Basically, the race now is for the technology of the Ancients. As you say, 'whoever gets up first gets the slippers'—whoever is more powerful will rule the universe. We don't yet know what the Ancients looked like, where their life originated, where they themselves came from. But it is known for sure that they were present in our universe, and all the intelligent beings we know in the universe were created by them. The Archons, as I said, managed to obtain some very important technologies and knowledge, as they increased their expansion in various planetary systems many times over. We assume that thanks to this knowledge, they can extend their lives indefinitely; essentially, they have become immortal. All we managed to find out are bits of information from our spies. We called this technology 'Ebrio-Control'. It allows for the control and manipulation of a sentient energy being through the Abrio Center. Every sentient being possesses divine energy; you call it a 'soul'. We, like the Archons, visited your planet very often, mostly incognito, but sometimes we left our representatives. We studied you, unlike the Archons. The Archons, many years ago, created a base on your planet; in your epics, this history is referred to as 'Atlantis'. In principle, both my tribesmen and they are reflected in your fairy tales, stories, or cave paintings. When we learned about this technology, we tracked the Archons, and that's how we learned about the existence of your planet. In the beginning, you did not possess high intelligence or any technologies. The Archons manipulated your consciousness, spreading faith in gods, worship, and service to invented ideals to your different nationalities. They introduced values like money, gold, and so on. But they did all this while having a base on your planet and controlling your development. Several thousand years ago, everything changed; the Archons destroyed their base on your planet and left. But they did not stop managing and manipulating you, and that's when we were able to figure out how it works. Around your planetary system, scattered about, let's call them autonomous satellites, which somehow know how to intercept the souls of living beings. After interception, the soul is placed in a kind of closed virtual block. It remains there until the next moment of rebirth on your planet in a human body. After being reborn in a human body, all memory of previous incarnations is blocked for the soul until the moment it ascends into space."

– "Gena, let me clarify some points," – I said, raising my hand. – "You claim that reincarnation exists. And also, that the Archons, let's say, built trap networks in space to catch souls? Like, for example, how fishermen set their nets to catch as many fish as possible?"

– "Yes, that's correct. Furthermore, your soul cannot be reborn on another planet or in another sentient being. Only on this planet and only in the creatures inhabiting this planet. For example, fish, birds, insects, humans, and so on."

– "So, I could have been a cockroach before?"

– "Yes, or a goat, for example," – Gena replied, laughing.

– "You're a joker, damn it. Do you realize my brain is about to explode?"

– "It won't explode, Petya. Accept this information as it is."

– "Okay. Did I understand you correctly, Gena, that our planet is essentially a prison planet?"

– "Yes, that is the case," – Gena replied, and it seemed to me he looked at me with sadness in his eyes.

– "And who ends up on this planet? Who sends whom here, and for what?"

– "Initially, according to the plan of the Ancients, any soul could move throughout the entire universe without any restrictions. This is necessary for self-development and the management of living beings. But as I understand it, various souls, having gained a certain degree of negative experience or simply because they wanted to, began to commit atrocities in the universe. They destroyed other souls and sentient beings. To prevent this and isolate such souls, the Ancients devised this technology. Who first sent you here is unknown to me; perhaps it was the Ancients millions of years ago. But I know for sure who has been sending souls here for the last few thousand years and who manages them: it's the Archons. I don't yet know by what method or technology they manage to capture a soul in space, but as soon as it gets caught in the trap, it is sent to this planet. But the Archons' control doesn't end there. On the Archons' home planet, Arkaris, huge, multi-kilometer complexes have been built, where control operators work. An operator can only be a representative of the Archons, male or female. They control a human by means of complete control over the soul, throughout their entire life until death. I know for sure that they do not control all of humanity. There is a not very large percentage of beings not under their control. You are not under their control, Pyotr. But your father, as it turned out, was one of the Archon operators."

– "But what is their main goal for the experiment?" – I couldn't resist asking.

– "I don't know yet, Petya, but most of what I told you, I learned from your father. Over time, he became my spy there among the Archons and here on your planet, my friend. He was one of billions of operators in the system. But, like not many other Archons, he was against this experiment and the abduction of souls in the universe. Among the Archons, there is a small number who consider all this wrong and really want to end it. Therefore, they cooperate with us. We Reptimens, understanding what is happening, want to help you. But as you understand, the game is serious, with disinformation, propaganda, and brainwashing of those people they do not control. As it turned out, the largest number of uncontrolled people or souls lives in your country, and I don't yet understand how that happened or what it's connected to. Okay, let's break off this conversation, as I'm tired and hungry; you're eating for the seventh time, and I'm just smoking. And we need to sleep, what do you think?"

– "Gena, are you kidding me? Sleep? I want to know everything, I'm ready to keep listening," – I said, but I understood that the conversation was very difficult for Gena because in our language, it's hard for him to translate many things or speak in a way that I correctly understand what he said.

– "Still, Petya, have mercy on an old crocodile, let me catch my breath. I promise, as soon as I rest, we will continue. But now I'm going to my cabin, which I advise you to do too." – He got up from the table and headed for the exit. Of course, I complied, and we each went to our own rooms.

Chapter 3

I woke up from a sharp, burning pain in my temples. For the first few seconds, I thought it was just a migraine—a consequence of yesterday's conversation with Gena. But the pain didn't subside; it only grew, as if someone was screwing a red-hot nail into my head.