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All weekend he had worked tirelessly on an important article, hardly pausing even for meals, shut up in his tiny, book-cluttered, musty apartment. And now, as he breathed in the freshness of morning, he found himself regretting that he hadn’t gone down to the pond yesterday to feed the swans. His old friends, whom he had, much to his shame, been avoiding for weeks, had invited him to their favorite bar for a pint or two of good old ale.
After graduating, Tadek devoted himself to science while teaching linguistics and world literature, and by the age of thirty-two he had already earned a professorship, a chair in his department, and a modest flat on campus which, by local standards, was considered something of a luxury.
Like most people wholly devoted to scholarship, Tadek was a little absent-minded, a little defenseless, and scarcely equipped with the practical wisdom of life. In truth, he was not well adapted to its harsher realities. The students loved this slightly awkward, ungainly-looking scholar, never at a loss for words and always ready with a droll remark, while his colleagues respected him for his professionalism and integrity.
He glanced at the clock and, realizing he was already late for his lecture, hurriedly dressed, grabbed his battered briefcase, slipped his glasses into the pocket of his coat, wrapped a scarf around his neck, and stepped out, closing the slightly creaking door behind him.
Although the light was on in the stairwell, a dense, cold fog shrouded the entire space, reducing visibility to almost nothing.
«For heaven’s sake, what are they cooking in there?» thought Tadek. «A madhouse, that’s what it is!»
The park, unusually quiet and nearly empty for a weekday morning, seemed not yet awake from sleep. A thin mist drifted over the mirror-like surface of the lake, where wild ducks floated peacefully, diving and resurfacing again and again, sending even ripples across the water. Sunlight played on the circles they made, shimmering so brightly it almost hurt the eyes.
Tadek took from his trouser pocket a large round pocket watch on a chain, checked the time, and, in a comically exaggerated imitation of the White Rabbit, exclaimed, «Oh dear! Oh dear! I shall be too late!»
The corridor of the university was silent. Classes had clearly begun already, and Tadek crept guiltily along the freshly washed floor, walking on tiptoe by the wall so as not to run into the notoriously ill-tempered cleaning lady. Entering the lecture hall, he was surprised to find only a few students lazily slumped in the back rows, half-asleep.
«And where is everyone? Have there been changes to the schedule?» he asked in bewilderment.
«Probably all in the main hall», replied the plumpest of the students, raising his head from the desk with an effort. «Watching the news.»
«What news could there possibly be on a Monday?!» muttered Tadek, beginning to lose patience. «Although, come to think of it, Mondays do make everyone act a little strange in their own way…»
He made his way up to the main hall, where a large information screen was showing the latest broadcasts. The place was packed with students – sitting, standing, even lying across the windowsills, but despite the crowd, there reigned a deathly silence that would have made any lecturer envious.
Not far off, Tadek spotted the familiar polished head of Dean Martin, who was listening to the announcer with the same thoughtful attention as everyone else. Bald, slightly tanned, and of middle age, he bore an uncanny resemblance to Humpty Dumpty, only this one wore a handsome crimson tie with broad stripes.
«What happened?» Tadek whispered, putting on his glasses, which he had just polished with a handkerchief. «Feels almost like a war!»
«You mean you haven’t heard?!» the dean exclaimed, half in astonishment, half in disbelief. «It’s been going on for two days now – people are vanishing all over the world, simply evaporating into thin air! Mostly it’s been noticed in various correctional facilities, but in some countries entire governments have disappeared overnight. Can you imagine? A proper mess in the making, I tell you.»
«Still», Tadek said, «there’s a strange kind of pattern here, don’t you think? Almost as if the Creator suddenly remembered His own creation and decided it was time to clean things up.»
«The important part is that people finally remembered Him», Dean Martin replied. «Everywhere you look, there are prayers and services going on – everyone’s calling out in their own way. Come on, Tadek, I’ve brewed some tea. I just hope it hasn’t gone cold yet. The day’s gone to hell anyway, and we always have plenty to talk about.»
«Well, at least we’re sticking to the main scientific principle», Tadek said with a crooked grin. «When everything’s going to hell, professors drink tea with buns and jam.»
Chapter 14
Nearly two weeks of flight were behind them, and the Armaon was approaching the nearest known wormhole leading into the Andromeda Galaxy. All members of the crew had kept themselves busy and made good use of their time throughout the journey – so much so that they had hardly seen one another, crossing paths only at mealtimes. Fortunately, those shared meals were strictly scheduled by Arma herself, giving the friends a chance to exchange news and impressions.
Kane spent his days in the gym, training from morning till night under conditions of increased gravity – sometimes together with Draam, who, after the recent incident, had decided it wouldn’t hurt to shed a few dozen kilos. In turn, Draam taught Kane various combat tactics, defensive maneuvers, and the handling of every known and available type of weapon and armor. Kane absorbed everything instantly, as if merely recalling something long forgotten – a fact that openly astonished his alien mentor.
John was deeply absorbed in studying the scientific achievements of various galactic civilizations across multiple fields, and lately he looked as though he’d been regularly subjected to electric shocks for an extended period of time. From time to time, he joined Maarv, who was conducting experiments with the fragment of the Ticket they had obtained. Maarv tried to identify its constituent elements, but in vain: the Armaon’s substance analyzer failed to find any matches in any known periodic systems.
He carried out a series of tests involving synthesis and laser cutting, but after he had broken three of the ship’s hardest and most expensive drills, Arma promptly locked him out of part of the laboratory’s storage bay.
Thus, for the second week in a row, lunch and dinner followed a familiar pattern: Maarv and John would sit across from each other at the table, and at first glance, it looked as if they were engaged in a lively exchange – talking, sharing, discussing their ideas. But if one listened closely, it became clear that neither was really paying attention to the other; each was entirely absorbed in his own thoughts and theories. Kane laughed himself breathless listening to those hilarious «scientific dialogues» between his two friends.
One evening, Arma summoned everyone urgently to the mess hall. On the screen of the information panel appeared the worried, slightly gaunt face of Abuun.
«Don’t be alarmed, that’s his usual condition», Maarv whispered, trying to calm not so much his friends as himself. He knew all too well that nothing good ever followed such an introduction.
«You’ve ventured quite far», Abuun said deliberately. «We barely managed to synchronize the signal for this transmission. So, I’ll get straight to the point – the news I have is far from encouraging. The first stage of the Genomode on the Blue Planet has already begun, which means you don’t have much time.»
He looked intently at the alarmed faces of John and Kane.
«You must always remember», Abuun went on, addressing the Earthmen, «that you have a chance not merely to set things right, but to bring about an unprecedented breakthrough in your human history – to lead your people into space. As for the Genomode…» he paused, forcing himself to continue. «Let’s say that, at this stage, it may even prove to be for the best.»
It was clear that such a train of thought did not come easily to Abuun.
«By the way», he said after a long pause, «we’re aware of your encounter with those beast-like creatures on Omera. And you might be interested to know that behind it all stands Kvaon.»
At the mention of the name, Maarv and Draam exchanged glances, their expressions darkening. Kvaon was not merely a member of the Vriinian Council – he was the gray eminence of Vriin itself, born into one of its most powerful clans. For several centuries, his family had owned vast mining operations spread across their entire star system.
Kvaon invested astronomical sums in the discovery and development of new worlds, sponsoring major expeditions into the most distant corners of the known universe in search of unclaimed, habitable planets. Had he been content with his enviable position as one of the system’s leading magnates, few outside a narrow circle of insiders would have even known his name. But Kvaon craved power. He was relentless in advancing himself and his allies within the governmental hierarchy of Vriin, and everyone understood that he would never stop until he reached the very top.
Ever since a small Vriinian research vessel had accidentally stumbled upon the Blue Planet in the distant Solar System, Kvaon had known no peace. He was obsessed with the thought of turning that beautiful, resource-rich world into his personal domain. What infuriated him most was the fact that the planet was densely populated, and that its inhabitants were slowly but surely destroying that rare, wondrous world, one that deserved far better and far worthier masters.
So, when a relatively obscure scientist from the orbital observation group on Fraal proposed immediate intervention in the planet’s climate systems to prevent an impending catastrophe and even suggested establishing open contact, it was Kvaon who used all his influence in the Vriinian Senate to ensure it happened.
From that point, he believed, swift and decisive action was required. And, of course, the humanitarian goals and scientific ideals of the researchers had never been part of his agenda. He had his own, very different vision of what should be done.
«It came to light quite by accident», Abuun said, his tone measured but weary. «Not long ago, we intercepted an attempt by two high-ranking Vriinians from Kvaon’s personal guard to infiltrate our flagship cruiser. Given the circumstances, we had no choice but to use a mind scanner. That’s how we learned that Kvaon himself and his men were responsible for deploying the Genomode on the Blue Planet.»
He paused briefly, as if weighing his next words. «He’s aware of our mission to save the Earthlings, and he’s using every resource he has to stop you from reaching the Galactic Council.» His expression tightened for a moment, betraying both anger and concern. «Your remarkable will to survive, which has already begun to irritate certain powerful figures, may well prove crucial to the success of this mission.»
Abuun looked at each of them once more, as if trying to pass on some invisible strength and reassurance, and in that look was everything he could not put into words.
He stood, straightened his uniform, and approached the transmitter. «I trust your next steps will be just as precise and deliberate. Good luck to us all», he said quietly. After a brief nod to the crew, he cut the transmission.
Arma brought up on the screens all the information she had managed to gather about Kvaon.
«It’s always wiser to understand what stands against you», she said in a didactic tone.
«Better not to know the likes of him at all», Kane muttered, growing weary of staring at the images of a prosperous-looking Vriinian, perfectly content with his life, whose deep-set golden eyes gleamed with a probing, foreboding light. «Mr. I-Have-Everything, huh? Now he wants a whole planet to add to his collection.»
Irritation and anger were rising in him, steadily pushing aside the earlier unease and fear at the sheer scale of this powerful adversary. «Just wait till I get my hands on him», he growled, shaking his fist at the image on the screen.
Draam burst into loud laughter, throwing his head back.
«I’m sure the moment he hears about it, he’ll bolt as far from you as he possibly can! Oh, Kane – the terror of the galaxies!» Then, his tone shifting to a sudden seriousness, he added, «Still, I doubt there’s a single Vriinian in our entire system more heavily guarded than that high-ranking bastard. Don’t be fooled by that polished face they print on political pamphlets for sentimental housewives. He’s far from harmless.»
His voice dropped lower, heavy with resolve. «But you’re right about one thing. Until we deal with him, he won’t leave us in peace.»
«I’ve got a few ideas about that», said Maarv. «We just need to live long enough to try them.»
«Attention», came Arma’s voice through the speakers. «We are beginning our entry into the wormhole zone. Prepare for the jump – I’m ready to accelerate.»
«Well then – full speed ahead!» Maarv commanded. The cruiser surged into the wormhole under the full power of its mighty hyperdrives, accelerating to superluminal speed.
Chapter 15
The Armaon drifted in orbit around the gray-steel planet Rion, which had three small moons. Its local star, an orange dwarf, was slowly coming into view as the ship moved toward the planet’s sunlit side. Though not as bright as Earth’s sun, it looked striking and mysterious against the backdrop of multicolored gas clusters and drifting dust clouds.
After emerging from the wormhole, the ship’s energy reserves had only just begun to recover: during the jump, Arma had diverted all reserve generators to create an additional energy shield to protect the ship from possible hazardous radiation, leaving almost every other system on board practically without power. That was precisely what she was trying to explain to a rather displeased Maarv, who sat before a large round plate of food and, despite all her reasoning, refused to eat his not-quite-warm breakfast.
«How is anyone supposed to think strategically or be ready for whatever the hell comes next with this kind of food?» Maarv demanded, addressing the ceiling as he brandished a utensil in each hand.
Draam, meanwhile, was finishing his meal and kept eyeing Maarv’s side of the table with quiet curiosity.
«What’s new?» John and Kane asked almost in unison as they burst into the mess hall, unable to take their eyes off the vast view through the panoramic windows – a breathtaking expanse of colorful gas clouds that drifted across the horizon like soft, translucent watercolors.
«While Maarv was being capricious», Arma said dryly, «I ran a full planetary scan and discovered the following: Rion has no solid surfaces – no land at all. The entire planet is covered by water. Interestingly, each of its poles hosts massive hydroclimatic reactors, unlike anything I can find in my database. My scans also show cities on the ocean floor – enormous luminous domes, transparent and scattered across nearly the entire visible perimeter of the seabed.»
Draam squinted slyly and carefully reached for Maarv’s tray.
«You’re not going to eat that, are you?» he asked, sounding almost innocent.
Maarv waved a small kitchen knife in the air with theatrical menace.
«Keep those giant paws away from my breakfast! Or I’ll trim them for you!»
«I’ve heard plenty of interesting things about the Rionians», Maarv continued thoughtfully. «And I remember, back when I was studying galactic history, being struck by how extraordinary their story was. Their home system, Aquaria, was destroyed thousands of years ago in some kind of cataclysm, but they were ready for it. Long before that happened, they’d already colonized this very planet, Rion, which at the time was nothing more than a lifeless frozen desert. Its orbit lies too far from the star to stay warm enough for life to appear naturally.»
«So then», Maarv went on, swallowing a cold bite from his tray and grimacing pointedly, «over the course of just a few centuries, they managed to heat and melt this frozen world, increase its gravity, create an atmosphere, and eventually fill its oceans with life from other worlds. In that sense, they’re collectors unmatched in the entire galaxy. And by the ancient tradition of their people, they themselves settled on the ocean floor. They poured so much strength, time, and resources into turning this planet into their home that they began to call themselves after it – the Rionians.»
«Well…», John murmured in his hoarse voice, «to turn a dead planet into one’s home – that’s more than constructive. The sheer scale of it defies comprehension.»
«Moreover», Maarv continued, deftly spearing another cold piece of breakfast with his fork and inspecting it with visible skepticism before popping it into his mouth, «the Rionians are widely known as a kind of planetary reanimators.»
He gestured vaguely in the air with his fork, as if tracing invisible orbits.
«It was the scientific work of Rionian scholars that laid the foundation for our own research into climate restoration and ecological correction. Yet none of the races we know have ever advanced as far in that field as they have.»
He leaned forward slightly, his tone warming with genuine enthusiasm.
«It was thanks to the Rionians’ studies in planetary climatology that I was able to calculate the climate point of no return for the Blue Planet – and that, as you know, became the very reason for our contact!»
On the screen appeared the image of a greenish being – unmistakably humanoid, with smooth, glossy skin of a delicate jade hue, lightly mottled with dark brown spots. Its broad forehead was slightly raised, giving the head a subtly elongated, oval shape. Expressive, slanted eyes with dark violet lids and large, gleaming pupils watched the crew intently. On either side of its neck were slits resembling gills, and given the Rionians’ evident affinity for aquatic environments, it was easy to infer that they were amphibious – as indeed they were. In its ears, which lay close against the head, several small rings glinted faintly.
«Please state the purpose of your visit», the Rionian said dryly and formally in Galacton, «as well as the number of crew members and the name of your vessel.»
«Scientific research cruiser Armaon of the Vriinian Space Fleet», Maarv replied not quite by the book. «There are four of us, and we request permission to land. Our purpose is to help our friends from the Blue Planet save their world from the Genomode and become full members of the Galactic Union. For that, we need the fragment of the Ticket located on your planet, since your people are represented in the High Council.»
The Rionian tilted his head slightly, the smooth greenish skin along his neck shifting as the gill slits flexed once, like a slow breath. His expression softened, and a faint ripple of amusement passed over his large eyes.
«Well now, how interesting!» he said, his voice deep but fluid, carrying a soft resonance, as if it echoed through water. «You’ve come quite a long way.» He blinked slowly, as though turning something over in his mind, then added almost apologetically, «Forgive my lack of courtesy – these last few days, you are not the first visitors we’ve received. Now things begin to make sense.»
He straightened a little, one hand touching the side of a translucent console. «Please transmit your coordinates for portal synchronization, and allow me to come aboard. Since this concerns the Genomode, it will be far simpler and faster that way – unless, of course, you wish to spend a few days on our hospitable world… which, I suspect, you don’t have the time for.»
A small, knowing smile crossed his face. «Our fragment of the Ticket will be at your full disposal. Allow me only a few moments to make the necessary preparations.»
A few hours later, the Rionian – now in full combat gear – was already aboard the Armaon, strolling with evident pleasure through the ship’s cozy mess hall. He was solidly built, about the same size as Maarv, though far more flexible in his movements. His armor was light, designed not to hinder motion, and there was a quiet strength and resolve in his gait.
«My name is Tarion», he introduced himself to the friends, who in turn told him their names.
«You see», he began once they had all made themselves comfortable in the mess hall, «the particular conditions of our world keep the number of visitors to the bare minimum we actually need. Unlike the open planetary spaceports and all kinds of interstellar trade stations, we don’t have suspicious types wandering around here», he said with a smile, then continued.
«So, when a few days ago a mercenary ship from Tiavr arrived, demanding that we hand over a Vriinian vessel with humans on board – the same guests we had apparently offered our hospitality to not long before – we found it rather amusing. A bit later, however, they came back with several heavy bomber ships and started threatening us with open aggression.»
«Some of our leaders, for all their humanism, are not known for their patience or for any particular affection toward those vicious Tiavrans, who are admitted even to the shadiest worlds only with caution. So they were eliminated very quickly.»
He smiled again, a touch of guilt in his expression, and gave a small shrug. «After all, they were warned!»
«I like your way of dealing with things», Draam said sincerely. «Those mercenaries, and probably a few others, have been on our tail ever since some of our brilliant leaders decided to unleash the Genomode on the Blue Planet. Since then, we’ve had to save each other’s skins more than once, and I still hope we can fix this mess somehow.»
«Yeah… the Genomode is no blessing», Tarion said, his tone turning thoughtful. «A long time ago, our scientists created the Genovirus – it was designed to suppress pathogenic bacteria and all kinds of mutations on planets of concern.»
«Oh, really?!» he exclaimed, staring at the stunned faces of his friends. «You mean you didn’t know? For countless millennia that mechanism worked flawlessly – it did exactly what it was meant to, until some mad genius accidentally modified it in such a way that it wiped out the populations of several inhabited worlds in his system. And of course, there were those who managed to get hold of samples of that dreadful virus – some to make a profit, others to use it later as a weapon of terror. Since then, we’ve been burdened with the Genomode – its unauthorized use is strictly forbidden, and even when permitted, it’s applied only in the first and only phase.»
«Well, since you were the ones who created it», Kane said, «you probably know how to neutralize it, right?»
«Unfortunately, it’s not that simple», Tarion said with a faint, rueful smile. «Only one race has ever managed to do it – the Lirians. The blasted antidote formula is so intricate that only they can reproduce it properly. Even then, it remains active for only a short time before it loses its properties. Still, we feel a measure of responsibility. After all, your people’s troubles are partly our fault. That’s why, with your permission, I’ll accompany you and speak on your behalf before the Galactic Council – as a representative of my world.»
Maarv glanced at his companions. Judging by their faces, everyone seemed content with this turn of events. Wise Tarion, who carried himself with warmth and quiet resolve, had already made a good impression.
«And one more thing», the Rionian added with open irony. «Given recent events – and my considerable importance – we’ll be escorted to Ilion by two of our heavy unmanned cruisers. One can’t be too careful…»
«Quite a serious people you’ve got there», John remarked, watching with the others through the viewport as the strange escort ships drew closer. “If everyone leaving your planet travels with that kind of protection, I’d hate to see your customs department.»
«That’s true», Tarion replied with a smile. «There aren’t many of us left, and our ways, as you rightly noted, are not exactly gentle. Still, there’s something important we must finish.» He leaned forward slightly. «You mentioned a fragment of the Ticket you recovered on Omera?»
«It’s in the lab», Maarv answered curtly, the hurt still audible in his voice as he recalled his many failed attempts. «I’ve tried to determine its structure and composition, but nothing works. It’s harder than anything I’ve ever seen – it resists every kind of analysis and refuses to react with any known substance!»