The panel on the side of the door, already familiar and even thoroughly tiresome due to the frequency of its appearances, glowed with a steady white light. The same three vertically arranged crystals... Funny. In my past life, door locks and handles didn't annoy me. But here and now... It's probably just nerves. I think if in my past life I had to open dozens of them, knowing that at any moment I could die in a not-so-pleasant way, I would also be enraged at the sight of accursed locks and handles.
It's a good thing I don't have to carry a bunch of keys for them... With the Ancients, everything is simpler—wave your hand, and *open sesame*.
With a quiet melodic sound, the door leaves parted to the side, inviting me to proceed inside a small room. Executed in the form of a prism having a truncated pyramid at its base, it somewhat resembled a well-known elevator.
With the sole exception that no elevator shaft was observed in principle. And the point here isn't even that the floor under my feet was opaque to the eye, while the wall around the cabin looked like monolithic stone.
This "elevator" has no shaft in principle.
Because this is, albeit a transport system, one of a different order.
Atlantis Transporter.
In the center of the wall opposite the entrance to the transporter, there was a screen that lit up welcomingly upon my appearance. A simple contour plan of the city-ship caught my eye, on which red dots were already marked, scattered, seemingly in chaotic order, throughout the city.
In reality, this is not so.
Poking at the one located in the very center of the structure—in the Central Spire—I heard the doors close behind my back. I instinctively squinted...
A flash of white light pierced through my eyelids, briefly causing me to see spots. A wave of barely tangible cold ran through my body. But the sensation of disorientation passed quickly.
Stepping out of the transporter cabin, I smirked, seeing a completely different interior compared to the one I saw just a minute ago.
Logical, considering that I had moved hundreds of meters both "horizontally" and "vertically" in mere seconds. And instead of one of the piers on the outskirts, I was now in the very center of the Ancients' pride.
The Transporter is a local network of teleportation cabins scattered throughout the city. Thanks to them, one need not waste time walking through dozens of floors across the entire complex, but can arrive from "Point A" to "Point B" in the blink of an eye.
Yes, powering such a device requires energy, which is already in short supply. But, estimating how much time and energy I would spend wandering through the empty corridors and floors of the city to get to this place on foot, I decided that the savings would still be substantial. At least in time.
A spacious hall with several comfortable-looking sofas. Funny... I thought the expedition members in the series delivered their own furniture to the city. But the "local" stuff seems familiar. I definitely saw an armchair just like that in the series!
Turns out, the Ancients' cities not only withstand millennia without practically falling apart, but the leather upholstery of the soft furniture doesn't crack a bit either. They sure knew how to build!
Numerous decorative columns, inside of which were decorative reservoirs with water through which numerous bubbles ran upwards, acted soothingly. And I really wanted to drink. There was a temptation to break the glass on the column and drink my fill... But something told me not to do this. At the very least out of fear that in a city that has lain for ten thousand years on the ocean floor in a dwarf galaxy of the Local Group of the Milky Way, one is unlikely to find fresh water. And drinking water rich in marine salts of another galaxy somehow didn't appeal.
Never mind, I'll manage. I'll leave that decision for an extreme case.
I don't know exactly how long I've been in the city, but the anxiety and excitement of the first minutes have passed. The brain of a rationalizer kicked into full gear. Halved with the notorious toad of greed.
The idea to leave the city and avoid death by drowning beat at my temple. The instinct of self-preservation is reliably sewn into the subcortex; nothing can be done about that.
But in my chest whined the voice of nostalgia and pragmatism, assuring me that I needed to do everything to preserve this beautiful city from destruction. At the very least for the reason that this is, damn it, a flying spaceship! With very advanced technologies! With its own device allowing travel to all ends of this, and other galaxies too.
One need only apply one's intellect correctly to find a way out of the current situation. The city is powered by three ZPMs—Zero Point Modules. But the team in the series usually managed with one "battery." And, moreover, in this galaxy, there are planets where practically whole, charged ZPMs lie. Which can solve all my problems...
But they still need to be found.
There are no spare ZPMs in the city. It just so happened that they didn't find them in the series. And I have a bit of a tight situation with searching Atlantis with sincere marauding feelings.
Occupied with these thoughts, I finally reached the treasury of the Central Spire of Atlantis.
The technology of the Stargate runs like a red thread of narrative through this universe. In essence, it is a device created by the Ancients millions of years ago. It allows, upon entering the address of another gate, to cross thousands of parsecs in a short time. Travel from one point of the galaxy to another without spending on tickets, luggage, and so on.
The device is made in the form of a large ring through which a large number of people can pass simultaneously. Or special ships of suitable dimensions can fly. And also, I think, equipment can drive through—at least some types of robots or wheeled transports coped with this task "excellently."
If I remember correctly, at the moment of activation, the gate creates a wormhole connecting to a gate on the other side of the galaxy. High tech and all that.
The energy allocated for the gate's operation is generated by them independently due to the peculiarities of the installation's design. And this is truly magnificent! Because assembling a system consuming giant volumes of energy, which will generate this energy itself even millions of years after its creation, regardless of whether it was used all this time or stood inactive, is worth a lot.
The key thing to remember about this technology is that by using it for its intended purpose, coupled with a dialing device resembling a giant mushroom, one can avoid a heap of problems. Or at least dematerialize on one planet and materialize on another without harm to health.
In most worlds, the gate is installed on stepped pedestals together with the dialing device—a panel with the help of which it is necessary to indicate the destination point. In Atlantis, however, the gate is located in a special room—the notorious Gate Room, which itself is also the control center for the entire city.
Stargate in Atlantis. Their copies throughout the Pegasus galaxy have the same design.
Unlike most planets in the universe, where the dialing device is located "by regulation" next to the gate installation, on Atlantis, it is placed in the city control center. And it has its own unique design.
But there will be time to figure that out. Right now, I simply allowed myself a few seconds to admire the Atlantis Gate Room.
Gate Room. View from the "Office" to the "left" half.
This hall represents a two-tiered room connected by a wide staircase. On the lower level are the gates themselves, as well as a platform for arriving beings and cargo. Directly opposite the gate is a staircase, in the end part of each step of which inscriptions in the language of the Ancients burn. What is written there, I never even tried to find out.
From the first tier, there are passages to other rooms of the Central Spire—and through one of these, I actually came.
On the second level, the hall is divided into two halves: right and left, if you stand with your back to the gate and facing the stairs.
On the left, behind massive doors rotating around their axis with square blue glass panes, is something like a conference room where any issues can be discussed. Actually, in the series, that's how it happened. What the room served for the Ancients themselves, I'm afraid to even imagine.
"Right" half of the Gate Room.
In the opposite part of the Gate Room on the second level, the builders located the control point. Many consoles of the most varied purposes give access both to dialing the gate address and controlling most of Atlantis's systems. I don't know why the Ancients placed a small balcony opposite the control point, but it looks quite organic.
To my surprise, I discovered another staircase in the "right" half between the lower and upper levels. Rummaging in memory, I remembered that yes, there was such a one in the "series version." And the heroes often used it to get to the hangar with ships flying through the gate. It is built above the Gate Room, but I wasn't planning to go there just yet.
In the corner of the "right" half, flush against the outer wall of the Spire, was a small office with large windows—from floor to ceiling. I remember it was used as a working office for the head of the expedition. And there was also a personal transporter there.
Strange that I couldn't appear from it... However, what difference does it make now?
The PDA helpfully showed me the plan of this room. But it made no distinctions between the levels of one room. I remember it can be reconfigured for such subtleties, but I have no time for that now.
Gate Room plan from an English-language forum. "Carter's Office" is that very "office."
Looking around and finding no traces of anyone's presence (except for dried up, but not decayed due to the passage of years, plants in massive tubs), I headed to the lower floors of the tower through one of the side passages on the lower level of the Gate Room.
Nowhere was there the slightest evidence of the expedition's appearance. Neither people nor equipment... You can't say right away whether this is good or bad.
There are no more doubts—not a soul left in the city.
As is known, land hitherto unknown belongs to him who discovered it. And since I ended up here first, and there isn't even a smell of any expedition here—it means Atlantis is mine. And even if Earthlings arrive here—screw them in the face, not MY city. With compatriots, I most likely would have come to an agreement, but in the series, traditionally, Americans handled everything...
True, their "business" often went according to the simple equation "find/create a problem — heroically solve the problem." However, who doesn't screw up? Everyone has sins.
But, however, this didn't change the complexity of what was happening. Passing by the windows, I looked again at the dead city. And grimaced again, seeing the familiar picture of flashes and air bubbles.
I should hurry. After all, the city is on its last legs. If the energy runs out—it's the end of everything. It won't matter who rules the flooded city.
That flash and air bubbles that I saw upon awakening are clear confirmation of this. The city sacrifices the periphery to save the central parts. Which means a huge number of rooms on the lower floors and in the outer part of the city are now flooded with ocean water.
And this is not good.
Atlantis is not just a city, a ship, the flying capital of the Ancients in the Pegasus galaxy. But it is also a laboratory—a testing ground for the combat of scientific research of human ancestors and the laws of the universe. Very dangerous secrets are hidden in the city: a nanovirus, a creature that feeds on energy, a device accelerating evolution, a device making living bombs out of people, and so on.
The expedition, even possessing skills in handling Ancient technology and knowing their language, managed to mess things up so much that even in five years of the mission, they didn't clear it up.
I have neither one nor the other. Neither knowledge of languages nor a team of specialists. All by myself, all by myself... Only I doubt the city will like my "English with a dictionary."
There are two places I would like to see first. And in my plan, visiting them stands right after discovering the Gate Room.
Not finding the first one in the direction I initially set out, I returned to the gate room. Probably need to search on the floors in another part of the tower.
But, since there was time...
I ran up the side stairs to the second level of the Gate Room. From there—another floor higher.
And I ended up in a semi-dark room, in which light from the lighting lamps barely broke through.
Standing for a few seconds, allowing the lighting to disperse the darkness to a state of twilight, finally saw the Jumper hangar in all its glory.
Jumper/Puddle Jumper bay/hangar in Atlantis.
Executed in the traditional angular style of the creators of Atlantis, the hangar accommodated a good dozen transport vehicles capable of traveling through the gate. "Jumpers," as the expedition christened them. The Ancients' self-designation is unknown to me.
Jumper.
Each of such ships is the size of a large truck, and in terms of comfort level, there's nothing even to compare it with. A spaceship capable of flights through the gate, in space, performing the role of a submarine, and also armed with homing projectiles—drones. Good stuff.
And I set myself the goal of inspecting each of them to clarify one point for myself...
After about thirty minutes of inspecting the aft compartments of each of the transports available in the hangar, I came to a disappointing conclusion.
I am in the time where the expedition from Earth that arrived on the planet drowned. The city did not surface.
And direct proof of this is the massive installation in the aft compartment of one of the Jumpers. The internal space of the Jumper is divided into a cockpit and a cargo-passenger compartment.
Eh, how I hoped I wouldn't see what I saw...
The fact is that in the events of the series, the system that raised the city to the surface when the shield threatened to fail worked only because of time travel. And it was provided by that very thing, resembling an oval piano, which I discovered in one of the ships.
According to the plot of the series, after the time jump, the surviving head of the expedition was transported ten thousand years into the past, to the time when the indigenous population still lived in the city. Who strongly disliked jokes with the space-time continuum. They dismantled the time machine.
But this prompted one of the Ancients named Janus to help his distant descendants. He programmed the city to surface.
And, since the machine is here, it means there was no time jump. And knowledge of how to raise Atlantis from the very bottom... Well, it took the heroes of the series five seasons to understand this process. Or four... Or three...
Doesn't matter—I don't have that much time.
But, on the other hand, there is a time machine, which I also don't know how to control. And somehow I don't dream of becoming a pioneer. No one canceled the butterfly effect. The fact that the heroes of the series managed to jump in time completely by accident—and as always successfully—also didn't inspire me to experiment.
It seems my streak of luck ended with the discovery of personal items.
For several minutes I sat on the floor in the hangar, comprehending everything I had seen. I frankly didn't like the situation. Really didn't like it at all.
"To hell with it," I squeezed out of myself, getting to my feet. "I need answers."
And I knew who I could get them from.
***
I found the room I needed after another hour of searching. The expedition managed this almost instantly. However, there were several hundred curious comrades of them.
I crossed the threshold, gazing with hidden desire at the rounded room, the walls of which, like most of the city's interior decoration, were made of material of various shades of brown, with admixtures of blue and green veins.
A small pedestal in the center of the room, and on it—a tiny control panel compared to the ones I had seen in the control room. Transparent glass, over which—numerous switches awaiting a user.
The trapezoidal keyboard flared up with a pleasant bluish tint of backlight, and before me appeared a hologram of a young woman in white clothes, as if woven from light...
"Greetings," she awarded me a meaningless smile. "Allow me to tell you our story..."
Shot from the pilot episode of the series. The action takes place exactly in the holographic room.
"Stop!" I ordered.
"...we came to this galaxy..."
"Pause!"
"...many millions of years ago..."
"Stop hologram!" I barked. However, it didn't work. Irritated, I stepped away from the console and the hologram dissolved in the blink of an eye.
Oh, these conventions. It's annoying when instead of answering direct questions, the Ancients invent a whole galaxy of riddles, rebuses, puzzles, and even scatter them across dozens of planets.
But, unfortunately, I can't do anything about it.
To my great regret, I depend very strongly on whether I get answers here and now. Or be left with nothing.
It seems the recording must be listened to mandatorily. Regardless of who I am and by what supernatural method I got here.
The light-radiating image of the Ancient continued her unusually short story about how the Ancients flew to Pegasus, seeded it with life, and began to do their usual business.
"...in the hope of sowing life in a hitherto lifeless galaxy," the hologram broadcast familiar speeches. Looking at her emotionless face, I thought: isn't it strange that she and I are speaking Russian? Although... On the other hand, in the series everyone—from Ancients to the ugliest beasts—understood American English. And it was fine, the brain boiled, but accepted the information. And how is our great and mighty language any worse? "Soon the new life grew strong and blossomed..."
Uh-huh. We know these do-gooders.
For several seconds the hologram spoke about how the Ancients observed the development of civilizations, guiding them on the true path. And I asked myself for the umpteenth time: why the hell did a civilization of genius scientists, who already millions of years ago knew how to cross the boundary of mortality, turning into pure energy, need to do all this time after time? A new galaxy, the appearance of human life in it, help and support... I believe in altruism, but... The Ancients at that time had a bit more problems than one could carry away. They had just barely survived a plague. And here, again...
"...so that young civilizations would exchange knowledge. Life appeared on thousands of worlds. But one day we found a dark world where terrible creatures waited in hibernation..."
Under the ceiling of the holographic room, an interactive map of the Pegasus galaxy was already being demonstrated in full swing. I've seen it more than once in the series, but live... Beauty!
And again shots from the series.
"We had not encountered such creatures before," the hologram continued the historical excursion. I was just itching to ask her—and were these "terrible creatures" by any chance created by you? Since you claim that you gave rise to all life in Pegasus? Or not all, and the "terrible creatures" were here before you? If so, maybe not only them? But I remained silent, realizing that the recording would not answer my questions. But someone else...
"We were overly presumptuous and not ready for battle. They crushed us with numbers. The enemies devoured the people inhabiting thousands of worlds," multicolored grains of light under the ceiling, demonstrating planets throughout the galaxy, began to turn red. "Only Atlantis survived. The city's protective field withstood their blows. But we were under siege here for many years. And, trying to save the last representatives of our race, we submerged the city into the ocean. The Stargate of Atlantis remained the only way to Earth from this galaxy..."
Such was the voyage of the Ancients.
They appeared in a distant galaxy, but didn't get along with the other part of their own people there. Therefore, they went wandering around the universe. First, they found the Milky Way galaxy, which they also seeded with life and inhabited there for some time. After which a plague broke out among their people, from which the survivors and non-infected fled on Atlantis to Pegasus. And started all over again, but met "terrible creatures."
It was naive to believe that the hologram would tell about the terrifying experiments that the Ancients conducted. And about what they led to.
However... They were dreamers and scientists. Were I in their place, with their philosophy stating that everyone is free to do what they want and bear responsibility for it, would I have acted differently?
Ha-ha-ha... Well polonium in my food! I am in their place now!
"...with their help, the survivors returned to the world that was once our home. There the last Atlanteans spent the rest of their days. This city fell asleep..."
At this, the hologram honored me with a short nod of the head and froze. It seems it was waiting for some instructions from me.
Well, the time has come to get answers. At least try to do so. Circumstances indicate that I will by no means get answers simply because I am such a good *popadanets*.
Throwing off my backpack, I turned to the hologram again.
"Who is your image based on?"
"The prototype of this hologram is Melia, a member of the High Council of Atlantis," the figure of light particles came to life. Wow. Turns out there are other "named" characters in the universe besides the "plot" ones. Or maybe I was just that attentive when watching the series and movies on "Stargate." "Do you wish to know something else?"
"Some water would be nice," I tossed out, considering the next step. I had hoped to see a completely different woman here. Well, let the "game" begin. And, perhaps, I should forget that the operation of this room eats up energy, which is already lacking. "I want to change the holographic avatar. Is it possible to do this?"
"As you wish," Melia nodded barely noticeably. "You can specify a specific name, and the training hologram will be updated."
"Now that's what I understand as a user-friendly interface," cracking my stiff neck, I spoke out:
"Let your hologram be replaced by Morgana."
"I regret," the hologram answered in the same indifferent-polite voice. "But no one with a similar name was found in the database."
What do you mean not found?!
"Fairy Morgana! Morgan le Fay!" I tried.
"I regret..."
Damn your low gear... Right, that's not her real name. Under that name, she entered the history of Earthlings and a number of other planets when she was performing her "especially necessary task" in the Milky Way.
But, what was she called...
"Lalos Gal!"
"I regret..."
"Pagos Tal!"
"I regret..."
Come on! I remember it was something like that. But... How exactly... Something related to the persecution of *lolis*... Right!
"Ganos Lal!"
"Request received," the figure of light smiled. "Performing hologram replacement."
The projection melted like the map of the galaxy overhead, but in the very next second, a similar one appeared before me. Only the expression on her face was more... mature, perhaps.
Right in front of me appeared the figure of a good-looking middle-aged woman in snow-white clothes. Woven from light, the hologram smiled dutifully at me, simultaneously looking straight into my eyes and as if through me. A so-so sensation, especially when you know what you have to deal with.
Ganos Lal. Aka Morgan le Fay. Aka — Fairy Morgana.
The holographic room where I came concealed many secrets. And now, before me, perhaps the most important of them opened up.
"Hello!" The hologram of Ganos Lal, like an echo of the past, broke the silence of the room. "You may enter your request verbally or in writing."
"Verbally, if I may," I threw in a barb. Alright, have it your way—the show goes on.
"Of course," a nod of the head. "A written request requires a larger number of system operations."
Is that so? Okay, let's see who beats whom.
"Tell me," I asked, licking dry lips. "What is the probability of a human appearing in Atlantis from a universe where everything that happens in this city is just events of a TV series?"
A short blink of the eyes, a stare into the void.
Well, okay. Let's be frank.
"Is that too complex a question for a training hologram?" I asked, taking a small step to the side. A tiny one, just shifting from foot to foot, nothing special.
"Conducting research of this kind requires a prolonged time and energy expenditure," the hologram pronounced dispassionately. "Calculations are being performed..."
"Abort operation," I ordered, running a hand over my face. Couldn't remove the tension from it that way. Nerves continued to play up, and this resulted in tapping out a certain rhythm with my foot.
"Are there other people in the city?" I asked, turning slightly to the side.
"A full-scale scan of the city for life signals requires additional resources and energy," was the answer I received.
"What needs to be done to raise the city to the surface?" I inquired, again shifting slightly to the side. Just a little bit. Even unnoticeable from the side.
"It is required to perform a complex of measures to launch the sublight engines," the hologram informed. "I regret, but my functionality is limited. Contact the city control center."
"I was already there. Only emptiness, and the dead stand with scythes," I smirked, looking at the extinguished backlight on the holographic room control console. Shifting my gaze to the figure of pure light, I laughed quietly.
Ganos Lal continued to drill into the wall, looking past me.
"Have you realized you're caught yet, or not?" I asked.
"Enter your request verbally or in writing," she rapped out.
"Verbally," I pronounced. "Compare the energy consumption used by this room for the last five minutes with data on the same consumption for the last ten seconds. Approximately that much has passed since the moment I stepped away from the control console, and the system turned off. And last time Melia's hologram disappeared at that same moment..."
The figure of light jerked barely noticeably. Did it seem to me, or did she blink?
"You're caught, Morgan," I pronounced. The "hologram's" head turned slightly in my direction. "I am perfectly aware that you are not a training program. But simply fooling other Ascended in such a simple and daring way. So, shall we talk, or shall we continue playing at non-involvement?"