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Chapter 1
The sound of shattering glass burst into the dream with an abrupt, jarring contrast and woke Tadek, who had dozed off unnoticed in his chair at the desk. The cool of night had at last begun mercifully to drive away the remnants of the day’s heat, breathing softly through the open windows. He ran to the window, catching on the fly a small vase that had been mercilessly swept from the sill by the wind-tossed canvas curtain flapping like a sail in the heart of a violent storm. Hastily gathering up the fragments, he tried not to cut himself, driving away the last traces of sleep that still seemed to pull him back into its realm, numbing his movements and making him stumble into corners and brush against furniture.
He still could not grow accustomed to his new and rather spacious apartment, so much larger than his former home. His beautiful wife, who had only recently completed the picture of his family happiness, had, with true feminine wisdom, insisted that they move into the long-vacant apartments of her great-grandmother. She had also inherited from her a love for the ‘more civilized and aesthetic times’, for classicism and the charm of the old.
The uneasy thought that he would now have to find some way to explain the loss of the glass object intertwined with reflections on the latest intergalactic news. Tadek, a professor of linguistics, had little difficulty mastering Galacton, one of the principal languages of the Galactic Union, and for some time he had been closely following the news channels broadcast by the Vriinians to Earth from the orbital Station.
Besides Galacton, he devoted much attention to the other languages of alien races, some of which even allowed him to draw astonishing parallels with the most ancient tongues of the planet, for instance, with the language of the Mayan Indians. Many facts suggested that long ago certain extraterrestrial civilizations had visited Earth and made their own contribution to its development.
Thanks to this new knowledge and the opportunities it opened before him, Tadek had managed to almost completely decipher the ancient Indian script. Now he spent days and nights over the oldest manuscripts, covered with hieroglyphs, logograms, and syllabograms, devouring one text after another, interrupting his work only for brief, almost symbolic meals and an occasional glance at the news.
His wife, who had gone away for a few days to visit her ailing mother, called from time to time, perfectly aware of what her absence could lead to: Tadek, a scholar «to the marrow of his bones», could easily go without food for days once seized by an idea.
She, on the other hand, a lady to the core, accustomed to doing everything by schedule, could never understand «how one could possibly skip an entire lunch and not feel the slightest pang of conscience toward one’s own body?!»
In the light of recent events, Earth had begun to change noticeably. Large spaceports were opening, and from time-to-time curious delegations arrived there from distant worlds. Alien visitors eagerly explored the beauty and landmarks of Earth, and in return brought with them specimens of flora and fauna from their faraway planets for the planet’s greenhouses and zoos.
In the largest educational and cultural institutions, new information and research centers were being established, where one could study alien cultures in detail, learn galactic languages, and explore a vast array of new subjects, sciences and crafts previously unknown to humankind. All this was taught by recently arrived scholars from various corners of the galaxy, who were gradually adapting to life under earthly conditions.
Tadek had made the acquaintance of one newly arrived scientist at the last conference, the first in Earth’s history to be attended by delegates from other worlds. The modest young researcher, a Karinian from the constellation of Karina named Tay, had left his home world for the first time, arriving on Earth at the invitation of the Vriinians who oversaw humanity’s integration into the Galactic community.
Originally, the Karinian was to be assigned to the advanced research center on Ilion, but after the well-known tragic events his posting was changed. And although Fraal lay on the very outskirts of the galaxy, it utterly fascinated him, as did humans themselves, perhaps the most inquisitive beings he had ever encountered.
Tadek, whose linguistic talents were highly valued in the scientific community, helped him settle in and gain a general understanding of Earth’s principal languages, culture, and way of life. Over time they became close friends and began visiting each other with their families. Their wives understood each other perfectly – they cooked together and often went shopping together as well. And this despite the fact that each spoke her own language!
Long ago, the Karinians had been an amphibious species, but over the course of a long evolution all the features essential for aquatic life had gradually atrophied. What remained was only their dense, pale, and smooth skin, marked with faint bluish pigment spots. Yet their subconscious longing for water endured, and the monotonous murmur of the sea’s surf stirred in every Karinian a strange mixture of joy and sadness, delight and wistful nostalgia – all those emotions without which the soul itself cannot always find its way to the beautiful.
Tay’s principal field of expertise was diplomacy and intercultural relations. He had clearance to the major interstellar centers for the exchange of experience among the races of the galaxy, and he was planning to establish such a center here on Earth in the near future. This promised local specialists unprecedented opportunities to work in the distant new worlds, while the visiting guests, in turn, could find ways to apply their talents on the Blue Planet, which, in light of recent events, stood in greater need than ever of innovation and new knowledge.
Like Tadek, Tay was deeply fascinated by new languages and listened with genuine interest to the Earthman’s accounts of deciphering local ancient hieroglyphs that seemed to have even older roots leading to other worlds. More than half of the translated manuscripts appeared to warn of something – to caution against a great danger. Though what exactly they referred to was still difficult to determine, despite the abundance of cryptic instructions.
In some places there were even fragments describing a mysterious path one was meant to follow, but these appeared only in scattered pieces, and the overall picture still refused to come together. Both of them intuitively felt that it might be something of great importance, and the inquisitive Tay requested special analytical equipment for a deeper linguistic decryption. Such a complex could greatly facilitate their work, but in the meantime the diligent and curious Tadek did not sit idle.
A little over a month ago, a ship of unknown origin attacked Ilion, exploding not far above its surface. Neither the planet itself nor any of its moons suffered major damage: besides the global force field, which the strange vessel had somehow managed to breach, the moons possessed their own independent shields that protected most of Ilion’s structures and inhabitants. Yet the shockwave from the explosion was so powerful that, although the defensive barriers held, the backlash caused serious technical failures, malfunctions, and destruction of everything lying close to the epicenter.
All of this was shown and replayed endlessly across the intergalactic news networks. Various versions and theories were voiced, but no final conclusions had yet been reached – no answers offered as to the causes or motives of the attackers, nor who exactly stood behind that monstrous event.
Unlike most of his colleagues in the scientific community, Tadek had no burning desire to leave his home planet and set off for some distant, unknown corner of the cosmos in search of either meaning or something more tangible. He had enough meaning right here, and as for material comforts – he had long since grown accustomed to being content with what he had. He was not much of a traveler either, though he had visited many of the world’s largest cities, yet knew them only through their libraries.
Nevertheless, he had promised Tay, with his wife’s eager approval, and to the great delight of Tay’s own spouse that he would one day visit their home on Karina.
«I need some sleep», Tadek thought. «My head refuses to work, and morning, as they say, is wiser than the evening, and certainly far wiser than the dead of night.»
Chapter 2
The high-speed hydro-transport was racing through a vast, multilevel water tunnel, the main artery connecting all the moons of Ilion. At peak velocity it was nearly impossible to lift one’s hand from the armrest, and Kane, seated beside Maarv, amused himself by pulling faces, mimicking the expressions of his friends, and quoting their favorite lines and gestures.
The crew of the Armaon had arrived on one of the moons only the day before. Because of the heightened and unprecedented security measures, Iida had gone through considerable effort to obtain clearance even for such a renowned ship and its distinguished crew. The friends still had not lost hope of finding Tarion, who since the tragic events had remained out of contact and was listed among the missing.
The passenger cabin of the transport was almost empty – in recent times, the local inhabitants traveled only when absolutely necessary. Maarv, glancing at Kane, could not stop wondering how he managed to remain so carefree and composed in nearly any situation. Kane never missed a chance to have a bit of fun, especially in a place as extraordinary as this.
«Just imagine what John would say if he saw those blue flashes of the moons against the dark spherical structures», Kane went on. «Something like – ‘The ornament of beauty is suspect, a crow that flies in heaven’s sweetest air.’»
«You’re not bad at it», Maarv laughed. «Sounds just like him!»
Kane looked at his friend in surprise. It had been a long time since any of them had heard Maarv laugh, and the sound lightened his heart a little. The two of them were heading to the Rion representation office, hoping to learn at least something about Tarion’s fate.
The young Rionian clerk shook his head.
«I’m afraid we have no information about the councillor», he said. «We’ve searched for him everywhere, used every possible resource, and came to the conclusion that after the Council meeting he left the moon right at the moment when the enemy ship struck.»
«But there’s no record of his departure!» Kane objected carefully. «We checked everything ourselves. That may mean Tarion is still somewhere here!»
«True», the clerk said thoughtfully. «There is indeed no such record in the system. But the councillor always did things his own way.»
He paused for a moment, then added, «By the way, you’re not the first to inquire about him. About a week ago, two men came here claiming to be from the Security Service», the clerk lowered his voice a little. «They said they were conducting a classified investigation and started asking strange questions.»
The Rionian shifted uneasily in his chair, as if recalling something unpleasant. «Then they demanded access to his personal files in our database. Naturally, we refused – no one has clearance for the councillor’s records, not even us, and that’s well known.»
He drew a slow breath before continuing. «After that, they began to threaten us and promised to return. We filed an official inquiry with the local authorities, but they had never heard of them. They were declared wanted, surveillance footage was reviewed, and we’ve reinforced security here, just in case.»
The friends thanked the Rionian and left the office. A few seconds later, Iida came through on the comm.
«I’ve found out that none of the Council members were harmed», she said, «but at the moment, none of them are on Ilion! Most likely, in the chaos they all scattered to their home worlds, so we’re unlikely to speak with any of them anytime soon. I also learned that someone tried to dig up information about Tarion – I’m sure you’ve already been told that! Anyway, that’s not the main thing.»
«I’ll fill you in on the details when we meet», she hurriedly interrupted Maarv, who was about to ask something. «I suggest you make your way to the Vriinian embassy – let’s meet there! It’s not far from you.»
At the entrance they were met by an entire guard of Vriinian soldiers in full protective armor. After checking their documents, the soldiers saluted smartly.
«Welcome», the security officer said with formal gravity. «You’re expected inside the embassy.»
After receiving special entry tokens at the entrance, Maarv and Kane walked past several offices and descended to the floor below. Two armed guards suddenly stepped out from a narrow alcove, scanned their tokens, and let them through.
«Now this I call unprecedented security measures», Maarv muttered as they passed yet another checkpoint. «Even our supreme ruler isn’t guarded with such pomp. And here, an entire army!»
«It’s more of a psychological thing», Kane smirked. «You know, for reassurance. Everyone understands that if things ever come to a real firefight, no army of soldiers with office scanners is going to help.»
In a small, cozy room reached through a narrow, winding corridor, Iida sat curled in a chair before a huge curved holographic monitor. She was wrapped in a soft blanket, and on the table beside her stood a glass of something that only vaguely resembled coffee. Unlike the earthly kind, the drink was dark green and, though similar in taste, was thicker and more astringent.
At the sight of her friends, she jumped up joyfully and, without bothering to put on her shoes, tiptoed over to Maarv and embraced him warmly. Kane, meanwhile, strolled to the table and unceremoniously took a sip from the glass, grimacing slightly – the drink was bitter, without the slightest hint of sweetener.
«Sit down, my dear friends», Iida said hospitably. «Food will be served in a moment!»
And indeed, the door slid open, and a sleek metal cart rolled quietly into the room. Stopping by the table, it unfolded, revealing an array of delicacies – from freshly made spicy Vriinian galettes and appetizers to an assortment of colorful drinks.
Iida watched them with quiet pleasure as they ate, until at last Maarv protested, nearly choking under such silent scrutiny.
«Well, come on then! Tell us what you’ve managed to find out», he said. «At the Rion embassy they didn’t tell us anything new. Except that some suspicious types have been hanging around, but you get those everywhere, so that’s hardly news!»
«Personally, I’ve learned little – about as much as you have», Iida replied. «But long before we arrived here, I asked one of our ever-resourceful mutual acquaintances to assist us if possible…» She paused, took a deep breath, and went on, «in finding Tarion.»
«So you don’t believe he’s alive?» Maarv said after a moment, half question, half statement. He rose nervously and began to pace the room. «Well… if he were alive, he would have shown up somewhere by now!»
Iida’s monitor flickered on, revealing the image of their ‘ever-resourceful acquaintance’ dressed in a fine, well-tailored uniform with a fur-trimmed cloak thrown over it, the very latest in Vriinian fashion.
«Vriin greets you, my dear friends!» declared Kvaon in his usual grand manner – ceremonious, yet laced with irony, raising his chin slightly. «How fares the valiant crew of the Armaon, dwelling now in the holy of holies of our galaxy?»
Kane leaned closer to the image of one of Vriin’s chief councillors and greeted him politely.
«Nice outfit!» Kane said. «Back home, that’s exactly how the great Merlin used to dress. Did John send you that book about the Knights of the Round Table?»
«Like it?» Kvaon smiled. «I’ll send you a cloak just like this one – you can make two out of it. One for yourself and one for John.»
«Hey, we’re almost the same height, for the record!» Kane protested indignantly.
Iida cleared her throat with a nervous cough. «If you two are done exchanging compliments», she said dryly, «perhaps we could get back to the matter at hand?»
«When else would I get the chance to chat with old friends?» Kvaon winked at them from the screen. «All right, all right, the matter is serious indeed. I’ve gathered reports from all our most secret services, who’ve been searching through every possible channel for details about the attack, but in vain! They found no mention of Tarion whatsoever.»
Kvaon paused for a brief, dramatic moment before continuing. «However, yesterday my scouts – some of them real slackers, I must admit, reported something rather interesting.»
The friends froze, leaning closer to the screen.
«One of my long-range transports happened to stop for resupply in the remote Mion system, at the market on the planet Bajjar», Kvaon went on, leaning a little closer to the screen and gesturing with one elegant hand as though tracing the route on an invisible star map. «The planet is famous for its spices from every corner of the galaxy and for its fistfights. The captain, a great admirer of both, decided to place a few bets at the local arena. After all, everyone there was raving about a new wonder-fighter who’d appeared recently – ‘knocks everyone down in a single round and hasn’t lost a single fight yet!’»
Kvaon smiled faintly, eyes glinting with the pleasure of a born storyteller. «Well then, something about the look of that undefeated gladiator reminded him of… guess who?»
He raised an eyebrow, letting the suspense hang for a heartbeat. «That’s right! Our mutual friend, councillor Tarion.»
He paused again to clear his throat, reaching for a glass somewhere out of view. The Vriinian community, like every allied world, had certainly lost a gifted historian and raconteur in him, one who could weave intrigue out of any scrap of information.
«And then?» the friends burst out almost in unison. «What happened next? Did your people get him out of there?»
Hearing the news that Tarion might, after all, still be alive, though for some strange reason somewhere at the far end of the galaxy, the friends nearly leapt for joy.
«Unfortunately, they didn’t succeed», Kvaon replied. «The captain made several attempts to speak with the tournament organizer to reach the presumed Tarion, but they wouldn’t let him anywhere near. Still, by his account, the spectacle was magnificent. Tarion, if it truly was him, is a fighter of the highest order.»
«Well, looks like such details may not interest you much», Kvaon chuckled, «anyway, I’ve sent the coordinates to the Armaon. It’s up to you now to figure out how to get him out of there.»
«Sadly, trying to negotiate with those Bajjar swindlers in advance is pointless», Kvaon continued after a brief pause. «They rarely honor agreements and always act in the interest of immediate profit. So keep your wits about you – it’s a dangerous world. But then», he added with a sly smile, «you’re hardly amateurs yourselves.»
«Thank you so much, our good old friend Kvaon!» Kane exclaimed warmly, giving voice to what all of them were thinking, for Iida and Maarv were still too deeply impressed by what they had just heard. «You’re, as always, on top of things – metaphorically speaking, of course!»
The screen had long since gone dark, yet the friends remained seated at the table, each lost in silent thought.
«Well then, back to the Armaon», Maarv said at last, shaking himself from his reverie. «At least now I might finally get a decent night’s sleep!»
«Isn’t it a bit too early to relax?» Iida asked. «We still don’t really know anything for certain. And we can’t even be sure it’s him!»
«First of all, I’m not relaxing», Maarv replied, squinting at her good-naturedly. «For your information, captains never relax! And second, did you see the kind of moves Tarion pulled off when we got you out of that pack of vicious Tiavrans on DL-254? It all fits! Who else but him could be that unbeatable fighter terrifying every arena on Bajjar?»
«I saw the ‘moves,’ all right», Iida answered dryly. «But there’s one thing I can’t understand. If that really is Tarion, then why would he, a member of the Galactic Council, suddenly vanish from Ilion and end up on Bajjar, of all places, and in the guise of a gladiator? That simple thought just won’t let me rest.»
«You think the people under Kvaon might have been mistaken?» Kane asked anxiously. «Knowing their boss, they wouldn’t risk their skins and report anything uncertain unless they were completely sure. On the other hand, your logic’s hard to argue with…»
«Anyone can be mistaken», Iida replied. «Despite how strange this all seems, at least we’ve got some hope now. But since we’re speaking of logic, until we see the councillor with our own eyes, there’ll be no real clarity.»
As she spoke, Iida was already booking three seats on a hydro-transport that would soon take them from the embassy to the Armaon’s docks.
Chapter 3
After Arma received the Bajjar coordinates through a one-way government channel from Vriin without a single comment or explanation, Draam, John, and Smorg could hardly contain their curiosity. When the rest of the crew returned to the Armaon, they were immediately bombarded with questions.
Everyone, without exception, voted in favor of organizing an expedition, though Maarv’s optimism once again ran headlong into Iida’s skepticism. They all understood perfectly well that, however much Iida might wish to believe the best, a woman’s logic and her life experience simply would not allow her to take dubious facts on faith. In other words, the general optimism of the crew urged them to hope for the best, while Iida’s logic quietly reminded them to prepare for the worst.
The ship was fully equipped with everything necessary – the friends who had remained aboard had hardly been idle. Draam, true to habit, had filled every storage bay with food supplies of the finest quality, making full use of his newfound fame and the generous discounts eagerly offered to him.
Smorg and John, for the first time in their lives, took a proper walk through Ilium visiting cozy little shops, strolling across sunlit squares, and even stopping for a few snacks along the way. Smorg, long accustomed to the wary looks that used to follow him wherever he went, was genuinely astonished to find passersby recognizing him, asking for autographs, trying to give him small gifts, or simply smiling and bowing with warm respect.
They returned to the ship in high spirits, followed by a large air carriage laden with valuable instruments, chemical compounds, and laboratory materials along with an assortment of local gifts and souvenirs for the entire crew.
The Armaon lifted off from Ilium’s spaceport and, after activating its access codes, passed through the planet’s energy barrier before setting a direct course for Bajjar, in the Mion system.
«Did you know», Arma’s voice chimed in, «that Bajjar means ‘receding water’ in the Miwot language? The remnants of the once-great Miwot race, extraordinary architects, were wiped out by the Krop plague several millennia ago. After the Great Galactic War, one of their expeditions discovered this long-abandoned planet. They settled there, establishing a colony and rebuilding several cities. The name Bajjar became fixed on the star maps ever since.
«It was there they unearthed the very Krop plague, a deadly, highly contagious disease that spread across their interstellar colonies within mere weeks and annihilated their entire people. Apparently, they had mastered long-distance teleportation technologies, which only accelerated the spread. Far worse consequences were avoided only because they tended to live apart from the larger galaxy and other races. Then again, some believe the disease affected different species in different ways – opinions differ widely on that.»
«Over time, the deserted Bajjar turned into a true Mecca for combat enthusiasts», Arma went on, speaking in John’s characteristic manner, «a place that never fails to attract a motley mix of adventurers, mercenaries, traders, and plain thrill-seekers from every neighboring world.»