I found Chaya in her laboratory.
The girl was standing at the control console, watching as the prototype of our naquadah generator hummed and flickered. The focus on her face and the lack of any reaction to the fact that I had been standing in the doorway for a good ten minutes (which she couldn't help but notice at least out of the corner of her eye) was, in part, even admirable—her immersion in her work was that complete.
Finally, realizing she really wasn't ignoring me, I knocked on the doorframe to draw her attention. Chaya flinched, shot me a wary look, and went back to what she was doing.
"I thought you were busy working on restoring the Satellite," I said, stepping into the lab.
"That is exactly what I am doing," the girl answered absolutely impassively. Tearing herself away from the data on the large monitor, she began examining something on her laptop screen. "Refining naquadah under these conditions requires all my attention."
"We already have one reactor," I reminded her. "You showed us yesterday how well it works. And there isn't that much naquadah left."
I looked at the small stones lying on the burlap sack they'd been delivered to Atlantis in. Delivered by me. A couple of days ago.
At the moment, this was the last naquadah that could be mined on Ermen without starting to clear the collapses in the mine galleries. Which, in fact, was what was happening now on the homeworld of Alvar Jensen.
Mining had had to be suspended because of the threat of a shaft collapse. Kiryk and Alvar had gone to the planet. The former had some idea of mining—he'd worked in mines, though metal ones, before becoming a Runner. Alvar was planning to conduct a cleanup operation near the mine. The Athosians had noticed a couple of Genii in the vicinity. Since we didn't particularly need sabotage, we had to either force the bastards to surrender or eliminate the threat.
Judging by Jensen's mood, I had a fair idea which option he intended to choose.
"That doesn't mean we don't need it," Chaya objected. "Ore by itself isn't all that useful. But after enriching and purifying it of impurities, I can create some stock of power cells for our needs. The hazardous materials vault is already functioning, so there's nothing to worry about. Unless a little girl who can barely tell a cube from a rectangular prism suddenly decides to plug a 'black cube' into a power outlet."
Naquadah.
Celise had called the refined naquadah blocks "black cubes" when she'd seen them in Chaya's lab two days ago. While Teyla was dealing with matters on New Athos and I, Kiryk, and Alvar were on Ermen, Celise had remained in Chaya's care.
It wasn't that the Proculus woman didn't like children... No, I even understood why, upon our return, Chaya had categorically stated that a child's place was not in a city full of technical secrets and corresponding dangers, but on New Athos with the other children. And I understood why Kiryk had resisted being separated from his charge...
I understood them both.
Just as I understood the fact that Celise, whom Chaya had sat down at the entrance to her lab, had simply gotten bored while the Ancient was mounting the systems of our first Atlantean naquadah generator. Which was why she had become so interested in the question: "And what are these strange 'black cubes' on your table, and can I help by shoving them inside this big machine?"
"She just wanted to be useful," I explained. "Celise is used to not being a burden during her travels with Kiryk. And she thought that since there were sockets in the generator that fit the size of the enriched naquadah, why not slot them in..."
Chaya froze. Even her fingers lifted from the keys.
The Ancient gave me an intent, assessing look.
"I hope you're joking?" she asked.
"No, I'm just explaining child logic to you."
"Should I clarify that if she had inserted even one of the three power cells into the unfinished reactor, it would have detonated?" Chaya asked. "Given the supply of naquadah in the lab and the quantity in the Stargate, the release of energy and subsequent chain reaction would have generated enough power that we wouldn't just forget Atlantis existed, but Lantea as well."
High matters...
"Agreed," I nodded, looking at the first Atlantean-made naquadah reactor's energy rod, glowing with a steady white-blue light. "But you stopped her in time."
"That time—yes," Chaya agreed. "But what if she does something I don't notice?"
"We've already locked all laboratories and rooms except for a few," I reminded her. "And we send the naquadah straight to storage after enrichment..."
"I understand what you're doing," Chaya sighed. "Yes, we need Kiryk as a combat operative. And without Celise, whom he can see constantly and spend time with, he definitely won't stay. But I'm talking about the safety of the entire city. Believe me, I've tried to foresee every possible critical situation from having a child around who isn't all that familiar with the consequences of her impulsive actions. Unfortunately, I can't predict absolutely everything. Even in her room, she could accidentally stick a table utensil into a power socket and cause a short in the entire residential complex! And that..."
I walked up to the girl and took her hands.
"Okay, breathe," I said. "She's just a child who wants to be useful. Nothing more."
"Misha, I've seen geniuses in high technology that most races in the galaxies you know don't even suspect exist. And, believe me, they all did everything they could to be useful. In nine cases out of ten, the fruits of their scientific research are known to you as dangerous experiments you forbid anyone from going near," Chaya gently freed her hands from my grip. "Atlantis is no place for children to wander about."
"You said it yourself," I smiled. "We don't need children wandering about."
"It sounds like you want to hang another project around my neck," Sar tilted her head.
"The holographic hall," I said. "It has a program for educating young minds."
"That is not exactly suitable for her," Chaya shook her head. "That hall was used to train representatives of younger races. Accelerated learning assumes altered genetics, a mind pliable for knowledge downloads, and prior interference with physiology..."
"I've discussed it with Kiryk. Just spare half an hour of your precious time while we're on a mission. Find her the simplest knowledge, like the multiplication table, or run a translation of Ancient fairy tales into her native language and lock the control panel so she can't change anything—and let the child enlighten herself. Obviously, she won't become a rival to you in principle, but at least she'll develop somehow. In the end, she's one of us now, Chaya."
"Don't you find this rather hypocritical toward the Athosian children?" Chaya asked. "We haven't offered them such an option."
"Because there was no need," I reminded her. "And Teyla checked—none of them want to study the sciences that way. They'd be more than happy to grab rifles and go kill Wraith."
Chaya studied me in silence for a moment.
"And that's all?" she clarified.
"That's all. Kiryk has already had a talk with her and given her the strictest of lectures. So have I. She'll obey you in everything. And she won't go anywhere without your permission. We gave her a radio and taught her how to use it..."
"And now she'll pester me with questions?"
"No. I warned her—if she distracts you, she's off to New Athos to learn how to plant beans."
"And? For the society she came from, that's a perfectly adequate occupation. As I understand it, her people were at the same stage of development that the Athosians are now."
"On the contrary. You set Celise an excellent example. A woman who possesses great knowledge. She wants to learn. And she looks to you as a role model."
Chaya flinched almost imperceptibly.
"I am not the best example for the younger generation," the Ancient said. "There were far too many mistakes in my life."
"And who better than you knows how to keep a child from repeating them?"
Sar looked thoughtfully at the generator she had created, the size of a small cupboard, then glanced back at me.
"All right, I'll come up with a way to teach her at least some elementary things," Chaya surrendered.
"I knew you'd agree!"
"Did I have a choice?"
"Not really..."
"Exactly," Chaya returned to her work. "And no, having you watch over me doesn't help. Believe me, I know the difference between a power outlet and an information port and I won't cause a catastrophe."
"I just wanted to ask when you'll be able to build another such fine reactor," a nod toward the construction once again distracted Chaya from monitoring the process.
She looked at the generator she'd assembled from the technology and materials from Ermen.
I was used to seeing a naquadah generator as portable, small enough for one person to move around. Chaya, with the typical Ancient scope, had built from a hybrid mix of wonder and Ermenan materials a two-meter construction that, according to her, could power a tenth of Atlantis's auxiliary systems almost indefinitely.
The multi-ton colossus barely fit through the city's interior doors and barely into the Jumper's cargo bay. And even then, only lying down. If not for the built-in antigravity engines taken from the disassembled Jumper, this thing couldn't have been shifted at all.
And if we wanted, this thing could be used to blow up a hive ship. Or a small planet or moon. The second moon of Lantea would shatter nicely, in fact. Just like the first, destroyed by the Wraith ten thousand years ago. Though... why would we need two asteroid belts around Lantea?
Naquadah generator built by Chaya Sar.
"I hear poorly disguised sarcasm in your voice," the Proculus woman noted, looking at me.
"That obvious?"
"Very."
"Well," I sighed. "At least it's good to know your hearing is fine. Because when I asked for a compact reactor for the satellite, I did not assume that in the Lantean language 'compact' means 'the size of a ship.'"
"Are you finished?" Chaya asked.
"I don't even know how we're going to drag this monster into the airlock! Not to mention hooking it up, placing it, and so on."
"I installed a powerful electromagnet in the base of the generator along with the antigrav cushion," the girl said. "So it can be attached to just about any artificial structure. I actually used a ship's reactor from the database as a basis..."
Ah. Why reinvent the wheel when you can just unbolt everything extra from a scooter?
"So it," I pointed at the massive reactor, "can power the satellite?"
"Not only power it, but give it an energy surplus," Chaya smiled.
"Now that's interesting. You're a smart lady and you perfectly understand that putting a super-efficient generator on a defenseless weapons platform would only be a waste of resources."
"That's the trick," Chaya said. "If we can manage everything as I've planned, the Satellite will no longer be defenseless. And it definitely won't be taken out with a couple of hits."
* * *
A thousand years ago, something irreparable happened in the galaxy.
The mighty Genii Confederation, uniting thousands and thousands of human worlds in the Pegasus galaxy, was destroyed by the Wraith during yet another culling. The insatiable monsters did everything they could to ensure that a once great civilization languished in poverty and oblivion, hiding its true nature from everyone, even other humans.
On the surface of their homeworld, they were just a bunch of harmless farmers and tillers of the soil, unfamiliar even with electricity.
But underground, many meters beneath the surface, in vast subterranean bunkers built thousands of years ago for entirely different wars, faithful soldiers and courageous scientists hid, waiting for their hour. The only ones capable of opposing the Wraith.
The only ones capable of leading humanity in the fight against them.
A Genii underground bunker.
Only a handful of the once numerous Genii people had managed to survive in the underground bunkers. Hiding both their survival and their preserved technical progress from the Wraith, the Genii prepared slowly but surely for retaliation. The blood of millions who had died in the Wraith attacks would soon be avenged.
The Genii hadn't spent a thousand years settling their agents on worlds all over the Pegasus galaxy for nothing, after all. Nor had they continued to develop their technical skills, improving technologies and weapons, merely to amuse themselves.
All of this was necessary for the moment when it would be time to deliver a final blow to the Wraith. Strike and win.
Under hundreds of meters of soil, concrete, and metal, in a small windowless office lit by a desk lamp, sat a man who, outwardly, seemed completely unremarkable. Short, curly hair, a stocky, solid figure clad in a drab uniform with brown lapels, a broad face a bit padded with fat...
The Genii commander gave the impression of a prosperous farmer when he swapped his real face for the "signboard" he wore for dealing with off-world visitors.
But few knew that beneath this plain exterior beat the heart of a true patriot and the brain of a superb strategist. It was thanks to this man that the Genii had survived more than one Wraith scouting attack. And thanks to his mind, and the minds of his predecessors and blood relatives, the Wraith had still not discovered the Genii's underground city.
And if this man remained in power, no one ever would discover the true might and greatness of the Genii.
At least, Ladon Radim was certain that the man sitting across from him, the leader of the Genii, thought that way about himself. Finally, several minutes after one of the Genii's smartest scientists had entered his office, Commander Cowen deigned to tear himself from his urgent matters, laid aside his guard's report on public sentiment, and gave his visitor a sharp and, at the same time, heavy look.
For the record, the Genii leader had no other kind of look.
Commander Cowen, Genii.
"I was expecting your report twenty minutes ago, Radim."
Cowen's voice rarely changed tone. For the most part, the man always spoke calmly, without any unnecessary expression or aggression. A man holding the post of commander of all Genii simply had no need to lose his temper. The Genii were one big well-oiled mechanism, laboring for the good of the nation, rejoicing in each victory, united in mourning losses, and knowing they had no one to rely on but themselves.
At least, Ladon knew that Cowen thought so.
"I apologize for the delay, Commander," the middle-aged man, dressed identically to the leader of the Genii people, put an expression of sincere regret on his face. "My team and I lost track of time."
"You're still studying the Ermen archives?" Cowen clarified. Although Ladon would have bet the commander knew the answer. Cowen's spies, informers, and watchers had firmly infiltrated every corner of Genii life. No wonder he knew everything.
And about everyone.
"Yes, Commander. The second batch our people recovered is... quite informative."
"Medicine," Cowen demonstrated his awareness.
"Yes, Commander. The knowledge of our brothers could..."
"They're not our brothers," Cowen objected. And now, for the first time, his voice hardened.
Usually, Cowen spoke that way only to enemies. Or at least to those he didn't trust. And with each passing year, it grew easier and easier to find oneself in such a category.
"Yes, Commander," Ladon said meekly. "I misspoke..."
"For decades, Ermen developed their world using the knowledge left to them after the previous Wraith culling," Cowen began, as if he hadn't heard him. "They had remarkable knowledge that could have helped us. But Ermen did not want to share. They came to us, looked down on us, bought our grain, and left. Never once did they mention anything connecting our peoples in the past. Though we know for certain—Ermen who came here knew full well that our ancestors stood shoulder to shoulder against the Wraith. We were first among equals, and they held only second place. But they always envied our ancestors. Our steadfast character, our resolve, our technical genius..."
'And our stubborn eagerness to be leaders of the Confederation without having the resources for it, they probably envied that too,' the scientist thought.
"We all read their historical chronicles," Cowen reminded him. "They saw us grubbing in the dirt and sighed in relief. They realized they finally had a chance to surpass us, to succeed... That is why they never extended us a helping hand while clearly seeing we needed it. So think next time, Ladon, before calling these traitors our brothers."
"Of course, Commander."
"And now to business," the Genii leader changed the subject. "Were you able to reach Tyrus and his people?"
"No," Radim admitted. "No matter how we tried, we simply cannot establish a connection with Ermen. Most likely, their gate was destroyed. Perhaps the Wraith returned..."
"The Wraith have no reason to return to that planet," Cowen said flatly. "They fulfilled their mission—found and destroyed our non-brothers. You know as well as I do, Ladon, that the Wraith don't go back to cleansed worlds. Especially when nuclear warheads from those worlds are brought aboard their ship."
'Except that the warheads were ours,' Radim said inwardly. 'And there was a bit less than nothing of Ermen's in them.'
So far, the scouts under Tyrus and his daughter's command had managed to send only three relatively undamaged Ermen databases back to the Genii homeworld before the gate became inaccessible. "History," "Medicine," and "Nuclear Power."
Three remarkable information carriers in terms of content. Except that "History" had been studied only by the highest commanders, while the scientists had focused on "Medicine." The Genii's technological progress was high enough for them to understand at least something about atomic fission. But they never did learn how to build state-of-the-art shielding or finish developing their nuclear warheads.
However, with the help of certain captured items and the database on "Nuclear Power," the Genii had made some progress in their fields of interest.
Not much, but still.
Ladon and his like-minded colleagues believed the failed strike on the Wraith had been enough to expose the problem. And for that, they needed to rework their main weapon of destruction according to the Ermen schematics.
But Radim already understood very clearly: what they needed was protection for those scientists who would work with the new data without fearing lethal radiation. As the late Ermen scientists had warned.
The Genii's own system for protecting their workers left much to be desired—almost everyone connected with the nuclear bomb project felt far from well. Many were already at death's door, and the rest would soon join their ancestors.
"Finish studying 'Medicine,'" Cowen ordered. "Continue decrypting the database on nuclear power. I want our new bombs ready as soon as possible. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Commander. I'll get right on it," Radim answered.
But, inwardly, he was asking himself who exactly would be the target as soon as the new warheads were manufactured and ready for use. He very much wanted to believe the Genii wouldn't wipe out the remnants of the peoples who had once been part of the Confederation. But with every such meeting, Radim felt more and more that Cowen's thoughts were turning away from the internal needs of Genii society.
Something had to be done about that. The sooner, the better. Because instead of using Ermen knowledge to improve the life of ordinary Genii, Cowen dreamed only of building a superweapon.
If it went on like this, a revolution would break out. And whoever won, it would be a long time before anyone thought of victory or the study of the Stargate.
"No, Ladon," the Genii leader said. "Let others deal with the nuclear bomb. I need you as an expert on the Ring of the Ancestors. Find a way to establish a link with Ermen. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, Commander. All that is done shall be for the good of our people."
"Indeed, Radi, indeed..."
For the first time in thousands of uses of the ancient Genii motto, the man thought it had long since become nothing more than a legend of glorious, half-remembered times.