The Ticket

Chapter 1

Morning light seeped through the heavy curtains in bright crimson streaks. Kane woke earlier than usual, a rare thing for him, and lay still, waiting for the alarm to sound, too drained of energy and will to glance at the clock on the shelf.

«Another day of the grind… another march to the gallows», he muttered inwardly, burying himself deeper into the warmth of his blanket.

Work gave him nothing – no joy, no hope for the future. In truth, there was no future in it at all. Still, these days even a job like his counted as a stroke of luck, and people clung to such scraps fiercely, enduring the exploitation, the meager pay, and the company of colleagues who barely knew which way was up.

Still, Kane knew he had to get up, weave his way through the endless stacks of boxes piled with books on the floor, and fire up his laptop. Lately, every spare moment went into scouring the news, searching for any scrap of information about recent events.

It had been about three months since the unthinkable finally happened – the very thing people had long speculated about, written stories on, and argued over in countless fields. For generations, it lingered as little more than a stubborn dream, yet now it was reality: an alien intelligence from another corner of the galaxy had reached out to humanity. The first official contact took place in the Gobi Desert, where the newly formed United Government of Earth styled, in the fashion of the age, as the Alliance, met with them, its delegates drawn from the world’s leading nations. The aliens turned out to be humanoid too, bearing a striking resemblance to humans, though far larger – over two meters tall, broad-shouldered, with luminous golden eyes and skin the shade of ivory. Their hair looked like dreadlocks, and both their hands and feet bore six fingers. They breathed oxygen, just like humans, but their diet was mostly plant-based.

They might have looked friendly enough, but could they really be trusted? Humanity had always feared the unknown, and now, faced with a more advanced and powerful race, many began to wonder if we stood to lose far more than we could ever gain. That, at least, was the prevailing sentiment across forums and chatrooms, where every scrap of news or rumor was seized upon like a swarm of bees drawn to spring blossoms.

Kane, however, who, according to friends and coworkers, suffered from an incurable strain of optimism and always believed in the best: in luck, in sudden windfalls, or in some fantastic breakthrough, was nothing short of delighted to discover that we were not alone in the universe. That «those very aliens» were real. And naturally, what troubled him most were their intentions.

Yet even though considerable time had passed since first contact – an eternity for people who had been expecting sweeping changes any day, nothing of note had really happened. Life continued in its usual steady rhythm, and the Alliance leaders remained silent, offering no official statements. People seemed more reflective now, less restless, and many began to stop putting off things they had long wanted to do but, for one reason or another, never managed before.

Chapter 2

It was golden autumn, the season Kane longed for each year and truly cherished. The vivid blaze of falling leaves, the crystalline turquoise of the sky, and that peculiar sadness belonging only to this time of year somehow filled him with both solemn joy and a quiet hope that everything would turn out well. Yet an inner voice, its steady rhythm constantly broken by uneasy thoughts, kept whispering: how could this happen, and by what kind of miracle?

«Maybe it was on days like these that old Dürer conceived his enigmatic Melancholia. Or perhaps someone had simply gotten on his nerves, and he grabbed a sheet of copper and a hammer on a whim.» Such musings circled in Kane’s mind as he finished yet another lap around the stadium after a workday that felt endless, a day he tried to banish from memory. He wasn’t especially close to the world of art, but from his university literature course he remembered that particular figure. who, as far as he recalled, had been more of a painter than anything else.

For someone just past thirty, he was in fairly good physical shape and looked much younger than his age. Lately, he had been running more for a change of activity and also to put his thoughts in order after workdays. He had long noticed that running cleared his mind – probably simply because, when you run, everything inside your head gets shaken up, and the heavy thoughts, constructed and raised to a certain degree, just fall apart into pieces. Those pieces are almost impossible to put back together properly without a good rest and sleep, which already changes a lot at its core.

With a light step, Kane walked out of the locker room. After workouts like these, he always felt much better and calmer than before, as if he had finally done something truly worthwhile that day. In the dimly lit corridor, a watchman sat at a small table. He was an old man of about seventy. His clear gray-blue eyes held a thoughtful yet mischievous look and seemed incapable of concealing a single dark thought. A kind smile rested on his clean-shaven, sunburned face. It was his shift today, and the whole corridor smelled of freshly brewed strong tea with ginger and cinnamon. Kane privately called him the «intellectual granddad.» His bald head, a walking two-legged exam, had long been a real scarecrow to the local athletes, which was no surprise. Talking with him was like taking a test of wit: the old man could as easily wield a mop in his narrow passageway as recite lines from literary classics, toss out quotes from films of different years, and season it all with heroic couplets from all sorts of chivalric poems. And why not? Were athletes not knights as well? Most of the athletes, however, ended up flustered and tongue-tied, hurrying past him with nothing more than a respectful «hello» and «goodbye.»

The old man sat on a worn, hard chair, wrapped in a checkered wool blanket, hunched over as he watched the news on a small television perched on a little stand by the wall.

«Pour yourself some tea, son», he said warmly, taking the key to the locker room and sliding a fairly large thermos and a clean glass toward him. Kane usually had a bar of milk chocolate or a pack of sweet biscuits with him for just such occasions. He always enjoyed these short post-workout chats, remembering his own grandfather, a great lover of chocolate, whose company and conversations he still missed dearly, even after many years.

The news spoke of mysterious alien activity in Antarctica and at the North Pole. Wasn’t it astonishing? In just a few short weeks, temperatures at both poles had dropped by ten degrees – almost like before the troubles with global warming, and the massive ozone holes in those regions had nearly vanished, which was nothing short of incredible.

«Well, maybe the aliens will finally set things in order», the old man said, taking a long sip of tea. «Since we either can’t or simply don’t want to do it ourselves.»

«If only we could understand what they really want, and who they actually are…» Kane murmured thoughtfully, taking a sip from his glass and breathing in the fragrant aroma of the drink. «Because if they can change the climate so easily… what else are they capable of? How far do their powers reach? What other wonders might they be able to perform?»

It was no surprise that the local military almost immediately stopped rattling their weapons and flying back and forth over the desert. Especially after someone in Earth’s military government decided to give the bewildered aliens a live demonstration of human technology. The aliens had arrived at their first meeting in the desert on a single small ship, only to be surrounded by three layers of armored vehicles on the ground and a swarm of planes and helicopters overhead. In response, they simply activated some kind of force field, lifted everything around them into the air, turned it upside down, and then carefully set it all back on the ground, including the countless aircraft. After that, even the most aggressive hardliners realized that we were no match for them, and that the aliens surpassed us as much as we surpass the people of the Stone Age.

«I wonder what we could possibly give them in return», the old man said, half-questioningly, as he took off his glasses, wiped them, and put them back on. «Or rather – what is it that they themselves might want to take? Are we talking about so-called cooperation? Or friendship? Or will it all, sooner or later, come down to intervention and conquest?»

«Well, if they wanted to take everything over, they probably would have done it already», Kane replied, warming his hands on the hot glass and blowing on the tea the old man had just poured. «I don’t think things can get much worse», he added uncertainly. Like many others, Kane didn’t really understand what would come next. And although he truly was an optimist, and if not a pure believer in nothing but the good, then at least someone who hoped for it instinctively, he was often afraid to admit it even to himself, since reality had a way of putting everything in its place, regardless of hopes or dreams.

The old man, who had seen much in life, shook his head with a skeptical smile. «Poetry and optimism – that’s your lot, the young. For us, only dry and colorless facts remain», he said, scrunching up his nose so comically that his glasses jumped up onto his forehead.

Kane laughed. «I think you underestimate the grain of rationality on which the true essence of optimism mostly rests! Although, against the backdrop of our local ways, your so-called dry and colorless facts might themselves seem like sheer euphoria.»

He thanked the old man for his hospitality, who in turn was glad to spend an hour in conversation, then stepped outside and got into his car. The night was warm and almost windless, and Kane still felt the lingering heat from his run, mixed with the warmth of the hot ginger tea. He drove home along the lake, where the mirror-like surface reflected an unusually large yellow moon and a clear starry sky without a single cloud all the way to the horizon.

Suddenly the sky flared with a brilliant glow, and a giant pillar of light struck the lake at tremendous speed and with terrifying force. The powerful wave unleashed by that unknown energy easily overturned Kane’s car, rolling it several times in the torrent before lifting it dozens of meters into the air, hurling it onto the roadside, and then retreating back into the lake. Kane instinctively tried to unfasten his seatbelt and get out, but his legs were pinned so tightly he could not even move them. A sharp pain pierced his chest, his head spun violently, and then he lost consciousness.

Chapter 3

Maarv sat at the vast control panel, studying the climate readings with intense concentration. The multicolored indicators blinked cheerfully, flashing in turn with different lights – clear signs that new data was steadily arriving from Earth’s stations at the northern and southern poles of this picturesque planet. It was satisfying to know that everything was working properly and precisely, especially since he had personally written the program and chosen the equipment for restoring the climate conditions and returning them to a moderately favorable state.

He needed to prepare a report on the work completed, and Abuun, the head of this research mission, was known for neither patience nor a gentle disposition. Maarv was the youngest member of the team – by Earth’s reckoning, not yet three hundred years old, which by the standards of their race was still considered very young. Even so, he was already regarded as one of the best broad-profile specialists in planetary research.

Their homeland, the Vriin system – three inhabited planets populated by the Vriinians, lay far from this world, which in their own tongue they called Fraal, meaning Blue Planet, on the far side of the galaxy. For a long time, the Vriinians had been observing this planet. Over the course of several centuries, many research missions had come and gone, staffed with the most advanced scientists specializing in distant and peripheral regions of the galaxies. But it was Maarv who managed to calculate the planet’s climate point of no return. In fact, he became the chief initiator of the first official contact with Earth’s space organization, NASA, which later gathered under its aegis the strongest scientists of the world.

Maarv had convinced his people that further delay would doom humanity. In recent decades, the Fraalians themselves had advanced significantly in technology, yet all of this had taken a severe toll on the planet’s ecological and climate balance – something they had completely ignored. Had the Vriinians waited any longer, the tragic consequences for life on Fraal would already have been unavoidable.

After receiving Maarv’s detailed reports, Abuun held a serious discussion over space comms with the heads of the Vriin Senate. He sat at his massive desk, lost in thought, a holographic map of Fraal glowing before him, his large six-fingered hands clasped around his head. So deep was his concentration that he did not hear Maarv enter the control room, restless with impatience to learn the outcome of the talks.

The problem was proving to be quite serious, and it seemed there was no simple solution yet. According to the established Galactic Code, younger races were required to reach space on their own and begin their era of star-faring, declaring themselves before the Great Galactic Council.

When Abuun saw Maarv, his gaze warmed. He liked this young scientist, who bore the hardships of the expedition with such dignity, refusing to leave the mobile orbital station for the third term in a row.

«The Vriin Senate has still not reached any common ground», Abuun said at last, letting out a heavy sigh. For a while he sat in silence, staring off into the distance. Then, turning to Maarv, he continued: «On one side, they are under strong pressure from the Chamber of Trade along with the Caste of Warriors. Fraal’s resources give them no peace, and they dream only of finding some pretext to seize them.» He spread his hands slightly, as if to show the scale of the problem. «And with such a vast population, there would surely be many eager to move to our new colonies in the Perseus Arm, where valuable minerals are plentiful.» Abuun frowned, rubbed the bridge of his nose, and added quietly: «On the other side stand the Caste of Scholars and the Caste of Priests, who for generations have studied the inhabitants of Fraal. They believe these beings must not be allowed to leave their planet. This aggression gene…» He paused, shaking his head. «It causes unease in many of our scientific circles. The emotional nature of the Fraalians cannot be analyzed at all.»

He rose from the desk, walked a few steps across the control room, and halted before the hologram of Fraal. His voice grew firmer: «But the chief difficulty is that some leaders from the Caste of Warriors and the Caste of Priests are proposing to conceal from the Great Council the very fact of contact with Fraal. More than that – to veto the resolution we drafted on the Blue Planet.»

Abuun waved his hand sharply, as if cutting the matter short. «I believe this is a grave violation of the intergalactic convention. And we are risking far too much for the sake of someone’s unhealthy ambitions.»

The political system of Vriin bore some resemblance to the political structure of many nations on Fraal. The nominal head of government over their three planets – Minor Vriin, Pruun, and Tlaan was the supreme ruler, Raam, who led the entire system as its chief authority. Yet there was also the Senate of Vriin, made up largely of members from several of the system’s most influential clans.

The Vriinians were a mature humanoid race, held in high esteem and wielding considerable influence in the Great Galactic Council, which governed all the known star worlds. The Great Council had its own small army and a flotilla of modern ships, answerable only to its members, carrying out various assignments, resolving interplanetary conflicts, conducting investigations, and undertaking missions across different parts of the known galaxies.

Frustrated, Maarv left the control room – he had expected the Senate to deliver some kind of clear and balanced decision. On the other hand, how could they reach any conclusion when not one of them had bothered to come here and see it all with their own eyes? Perhaps they were simply afraid, for it was not every day that a mature race stumbled upon such a planet and made contact with an intelligent population. And the responsibility, should anything go wrong, carried consequences severe enough to cost them their positions – no one in the Senate was willing to take that risk.

After his conversation with the wise Abuun, Maarv himself was no longer entirely sure which decision he favored. He felt a sharp lack of information, which both angered him and put him in a combative frame of mind. «Is it possible», he thought, «that after spending so much time here I still cannot see how we ought to proceed, simply because we sit locked away, following the foolish decrees of cowardly politicians?» A plan was forming in his mind, one that somehow had to be carried out.

Although unsanctioned contacts were strictly forbidden and the Caste of Warriors kept tight control over the entire near-Earth perimeter, Maarv decided to descend to the planet. He sincerely believed that the issue of heightened human aggression, so actively promoted by certain voices in the Vriin Council, was insignificant and irrelevant.

The Fraalians, as a new species, fascinated him, yet he had never before encountered humans face-to-face. Nevertheless, there were many humanoid races across the known galaxies, and even in the Great Council the peoples of the elder races held a certain number of seats. Among them were the mysterious Lyrians – one of the most powerful in the Galactic Union. They served as guardians of the galaxy and, at their own discretion, could intervene and put a stop to conflicts of planetary scale.

While Maarv was working out how to slip unnoticed onto the engineering deck and from there into the teleport section, he was at the same time preparing the necessary equipment. In the end, it all came down to a single small device called a confluator, which fastened conveniently to his belt. It was synchronized with all the essential systems of their research station and could do much – both for the safety of its owner and for defense or attack. Maarv tried not to dwell on the latter. Although he had undergone all the grueling training required of deep-space scouts, he had no desire to bring those memories back to life.

On the engineering deck stood guard Draam himself, personally responsible for the station’s security. Even by the standards of the Vriinians who for the most part were not known for sentimentality he was still less inclined to show such emotions, at least in public. Any request outside his direct duties seemed simply to bounce off his face, as if it had been cast from the hardest metal. There was a saying that if the ship ever suffered a breach, it could be patched with Draam himself, and it would be even stronger than before.

Food was his only weakness, despite his excellent physical condition. And so, passing the time today with a sort of chess-like game and recalling the cooking of home, he suddenly caught the sharp scent of spices so familiar and dear to him.

«Without a doubt», he thought, «that aroma could only come from kret! The famous Vriinyan galettes are brewed on the rarest, most aged spices, and that heady smell was coming from the storeroom.»

As soon as Draam stepped into the storage bay, the bulkhead closed silently behind him. He noticed it, but he also saw a lone box of kret.

«I’ll eat it all first», he mumbled, closing his eyes in pleasure as he slowly chewed a galette, «and then I’ll punish – punish them cruelly!»

Seeing that Draam had fallen into the trap, Maarv ran full out for the teleport bay – the small box of kret from his carefully kept personal stash would not hold the large, voracious Draam for long. He knew he would have to jump blind, so that no one could trace the arrival point, and that carried considerable risk – you never knew where you might end up. But he had made his decision, and there was no turning back. He selected the proper coordinates, powered up the portal, waited until it reached full strength, and then stepped resolutely into the boiling stream of light.

Chapter 4

Kane was slowly regaining consciousness, though he still had no desire to open his eyes. The pain in his chest was beginning to fade, and the unpleasant chill had fully brought him back to awareness. Suddenly he remembered what had happened, and with surprise he pushed himself up on his elbows, trying to understand how he had managed to escape from the overturned car. The last thing he recalled did not match what he was feeling now.

The sun had not yet risen, but Kane clearly saw the silhouette of a tall figure. In his hands he held a strange device that emitted a crimson glow, casting light across the clearing. The man was dressed oddly – in a heavy, leather-like cloak of a dirty green color, trousers of the same shade with ridges of some matte, dark-blue-tinged metal, and massive boots to match the rest of the outfit.

With a gesture he motioned for Kane to stay on the ground. Still feeling weak, Kane thought it unwise to remain lying in front of a stranger and tried to stand anyway, but his head spun and he nearly collapsed. The stranger caught him, helped him sit, and placed in his palm a small plate the size of a coin, indicating with his hand that it should be pressed against his temple.

The plate was perfectly smooth, pleasant to the touch, and somehow clung to his palm like a magnet. It shifted its hue to match his skin, becoming almost invisible and weightless. No sooner had Kane pressed it to his head than he distinctly heard a powerful voice.

«Greetings, Earthman!»

«Hello», Kane replied politely and cautiously, once the nausea had subsided and the dizziness had passed – too astonished by everything happening to say anything more coherent. «Yeah… hello», he repeated uncertainly. Or rather, he thought it.

«How convenient», he muttered. «If it’s not too much trouble, could you briefly explain what just happened here, and who you are?»

«I came from afar», the alien answered, pointing to the sky. «From a very distant star.»

«Wonderful», Kane replied, a little resentfully, suddenly feeling like a native from the time of Columbus. «For such a highly intellectual conversation we could have done without this mind-gadget. And by the way, it wouldn’t hurt if you turned the volume down a bit!»

«My apologies, native», the alien caught the word from the torrent of Kane’s scattered thoughts. «You were seriously injured by the shockwave of the teleport. That… mm… happened by accident.» There was a trace of embarrassment in his thoughts. «I had to heal your injuries while you were unconscious.»

«All right», Kane said, taking a deep breath and exhaling. «First of all, my name is Kane. Second… thank you for patching me up – my knee doesn’t even ache anymore. Ever thought of applying to a local clinic? You’d be priceless there», he tried to joke. «And what’s your name? Where are the rest of your…»

Kane wanted to say «alien people», but it didn’t seem polite or appropriate. «…I mean, the others – the ones our news channels are buzzing about?» he finished with difficulty.

«I came here alone», the stranger replied. «My name is Maarv. And what is a «clinic»?»

«Oh», Kane perked up at last. «It’s a place where specially trained people try, in cases of urgent need, to do what you just did, but usually without success. Well, yes, sometimes someone gets lucky – in exceptional cases. There are still doctors with a real gift, but they’re very rare.»

«These ‘doctors with a real gift’», Maarv repeated in surprise. «They can regenerate organic matter?»

Kane scratched the back of his head, thinking. Of course, part of him wanted to exaggerate a little for this seemingly pompous guest – out of pride and solidarity for his planet and his people. But on the other hand, his conscience and common sense told him it would be wrong to mislead Maarv, whose large golden eyes radiated sincerity, openness, and a kind of childlike wonder. Kane felt ashamed of his sly thought, coughed awkwardly, and looked away.

«I think humanity is still very, very far from such abilities. To us, it looks like a miracle. Probably no person has ever lived who didn’t dream of wonders like teleportation, regeneration, or eternal life.»

Maarv paused, lowering his gaze for a moment as if weighing each word, then looked back at Kane. «We have been studying your emotional nature for quite some time», he said slowly, «and have concluded that humans are not yet ready to live long lives – you lack the necessary experience, for you have never had such opportunities.» He lifted one hand slightly, as though brushing aside an invisible objection. «On the other hand, human psychology remains a great mystery to us precisely because of this brevity, and perhaps if your lives were much longer, your values and perceptions would become clearer to us.»

He let out a quiet breath, his golden eyes narrowing in thought. «With your current priorities, a long life could become a difficult burden, a heavy load, losing its sharpness and meaning.» A faint, almost apologetic smile crossed his face. «One of the reasons I came here is to learn to understand you – to discover what drives you, and whether we can cooperate in the future. Much depends on this.»

His expression grew more intent. «I would very much like you to take me to your keepers of wisdom, or your elders.»

Kane tried to make sense of everything Maarv had said, realizing he meant contact with some high-ranking government official. But, he thought, what good would come of those long-since complacent bureaucrats, equally distant from real people, their daily needs, and reality itself? The only true «elder» he could think of was the old man at the stadium. Yes, in fact, he really was the perfect version of an elder – a genuine «keeper of wisdom.»

«But it’s going to be quite a walk», Kane said, glancing regretfully at his mangled car. «Unless, of course, we use some of your miracle-tech and, shall we say, teleport straight to where we need to be?»

«You see…» Maarv hesitated, a trace of embarrassment on his face. «In theory it’s possible. But to open a portal requires such an enormous amount of energy that it would make my location immediately detectable. My visit was not sanctioned by my command. No doubt by now they’ve realized I’m missing and want to bring me back. That would be extremely undesirable before I’ve completed my mission.»

He folded his hands together, as if trying to steady the thought. «It is far safer to try repairing your transport – that will not require much energy.»

Through the telepathic device, Kane caught all of Maarv’s unease and anxiety, and he realized just how much the alien was risking by taking such a dangerous yet noble step. Of course, Kane thought, I have to help him, no matter what! We need to get to the old man at the stadium as soon as possible and get Maarv into different clothes.

«Looking like this», Kane said aloud, «you’d better not be walking around here.»

At Maarv’s questioning look, Kane explained that it would be wiser not to attract too much attention – just in case. Showing up in public dressed like that was the same as parading down the street banging a drum and shouting, «I’ve come from another planet on a secret mission!» He smirked. «And surely you don’t want to spend the rest of your long life giving out autographs, do you?»

Chapter 5

The car dissolved into the now-familiar crimson glow. Before Kane’s stunned eyes, the wreck of twisted metal began to transform: smoothing, unfolding, stretching into place, until familiar contours reemerged. From some unseen distance the hood and part of the engine came gliding back, settling neatly as though they had never left. The windows followed—splinters gathering into delicate webs before vanishing altogether. Moments later, a flawless car stood before him, without the faintest trace of damage.

«How… how is that even possible!» Kane cried, overwhelmed. «This is beyond belief!»

«There is nothing unusual about the regeneration of matter», Maarv answered almost indifferently. «Everything that exists carries what we call a memory. The device merely restores the molecules to their given state. The real danger lies in overreaching – or, in certain cases, in missing the mark.»

Kane gave a crooked smile. «I wonder, do you still have any ruins left in your world? Ancient monuments, crumbled stones, anything to remind you of history?»

They reached the stadium with the first rays of dawn. A soft pink sunrise spread across a clear sky, promising a beautiful day. Maarv, struck by the colors, stopped instinctively, staring in wonder at the rising sun. «Seldom have I witnessed such beauty», he murmured.

«Yes», Kane agreed. «Moments like this can almost redeem the sheer pointlessness of existence which, in our parts, is not so rare. The average citizen doesn’t get many chances.»

«One must never despair», Maarv said, this time using his voice. It was strong, resonant, and unusually deep. «The future always holds new and uncharted horizons.» He gestured toward Kane as the man handed back the small plate. «The confluator is no longer needed. The analysis of your language is complete, the upload finished. Now I can speak almost fluently, though without sophistication.»

Kane smirked. «That’s already a strong opening. I can’t imagine what it’ll be like once the sophistication comes in.»

The old man greeted Kane with his usual warmth, though with a hint of puzzlement. «Back for another run? And you’ve brought a friend?»

«I’m not that obsessed with my health», Kane said with a crooked grin. «Allow me to introduce my… er… yes, my new friend! That’s right. And he’s come to us from very far away», he added, casting a meaningful glance at the ceiling. «Practically dropped on my head – no better way to put it. And he’s very eager to change clothes!»

The old man, who even at his age caught on to things at half a word, jumped from his chair in surprise. «Well then, any friend of my friends is a friend of mine», he said with a smile. «Let me introduce myself – I’m John. John Bozen. Once a physicist, now retired.»

He opened a locker and pulled out several bags of clothing. «As it happens, only the largest sizes are left. So far, they haven’t fit anyone.»

Dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie, the massive Maarv now looked like a serious athlete straight out of a bodybuilding magazine.

«You could make quite a sporting career here», John remarked.

«Perhaps here – yes», Maarv replied, studying the shoes with curiosity as he pulled them on. «But by our standards I’m fairly average physically. I was always drawn to science rather than a military path. With us, it is mainly the warrior caste that devotes itself to heavy physical training, and to a much lesser extent, the long-range space explorers.»

«Well then, that’s just as well», the old man said with a smile. «Otherwise, I can’t imagine where we would’ve found clothes big enough to fit you if you were any larger. Now, we need to get something to eat. After that, we’ll head over to my shack.»

Chapter 6

«And one more thing, Abuun», the commanding voice from the comm-screen continued, «we know you have sent someone from your team down to Fraal. We do not know what goals you intend to pursue, or whether it was an accident, but in light of recent events, his presence on that planet is utterly unacceptable.»

After a brief pause, the voice pressed on. «If you do not follow the latest directives to the letter, we cannot guarantee his safety. The stakes are far too high for us to take such risks!»

There was no mistaking the raw menace in those words, in the merciless undertone of the speaker – it left no room for double meaning. Though every fiber of his being bristled with indignation and Abuun longed to hurl something at the screen, he forced himself to nod and salute. A moment later, the transmission ended.

«The military somehow managed to turn the tide, seize the initiative, and, imposing their will on the Senate, began to act», he said, pacing across the comm room, the lines of his face drawn tight with anger. He stopped abruptly and turned to Draam, whom he had urgently summoned. «Nothing good has ever come at the mere mention of the head of the Caste of Warriors, and I just had a direct conversation with him!»

He slammed a heavy hand down on the console, making the instruments quiver. «Together with someone from the leadership of the Caste of Scholars, they ‘found’ a so-called compromise solution – they released a Genemode on Fraal.»

Abuun drew in a sharp breath, then jabbed a finger toward the viewport as if pointing straight to the planet itself. «We must locate Maarv immediately before he is harmed. Soon the military’s agents, hunter-drones, and worse will be prowling there. And that leaves him with extremely slim chances of survival.»

«I’ll start by breaking every bone in him myself», Draam grunted, though beneath the roughness he was genuinely anxious for Maarv’s safety. «Finding him wouldn’t be hard, but we can’t do it openly – those warhawks are already on our tail. If they know Maarv is on Fraal, then they’re watching our every move. I reckon Maarv will contact us himself soon», he went on, voice hardening. «He has enough equipment to detect the Genemode, and he understands better than any of us what that means for the Fraalians.»

He paused for a moment, then snapped to his feet, shaking his shoulders. « My friend, we’ve been through so many tight spots already – we’ll get out of this one too!»

«True», Abuun replied, his voice grim. “But this time we must think carefully about how to outplay the Senate and the Caste of Warriors, or this scrape could be our last.”

«Clear as day», Draam agreed. «They won’t leave us alone now. So we must act, and act decisively!»

Chapter 7

Kane woke suddenly, not at once realizing he was not at home. The events of the past days whirled through his mind, once again leaving him astonished at everything that had happened. He stepped outside and saw that Maarv and John had not gone to bed at all. They were sitting in the gazebo, deep in conversation.

«Join us, son», John called out cheerfully. «We’ve just started breakfast, and we have plenty to discuss.» He sighed. «Not long ago, our star-born friend’s mysterious device began pulsing and flashing like a Christmas tree. Maarv tinkered with it a bit, and came to a conclusion one not at all encouraging for any of us.»

«The Genemode is a highly dangerous virus of intellectual selection», Maarv said, his brow furrowing as he turned the small device over in his hands. «My people have released it upon your planet.» He hesitated, his golden eyes darkening. «It has been used only a handful of times in my memory… but never has anyone studied how quickly it might act in your atmosphere.»

He set the device down on the table and folded his long fingers together, as though to steady himself. «Its consequences are almost always the same and invariably grim. Not all of us believe we have the right to use it, but some of our leaders hide behind «security concerns» and other such nonsense, seeking only their own advantage.»

A faint sigh escaped him. «As far as I know, the virus works in stages, with intervals ranging from weeks to months. In the first stage, it eliminates all mature human subjects carrying active level-two mental pathogens. In the second, it destroys all those whose intellectual level falls below Class C. And then, after some further time…» Maarv’s voice trailed off. His gaze fixed on nothing, as though he could already see the shadow of what came next. For a long moment he remained silent, his golden eyes reflecting a dread too heavy to be put into words.

«I’ll spell it out, son – after all, we’ve been talking all night, haven’t we?» John brightened despite his weary face. «In the first stage of this strange virus, roughly and speaking very broadly, all the criminals, chronic drunks, addicts – and, God willing, the corrupt, inhuman politicians will die off. Experience shows there are no fewer criminals among them; in short, all the refuse of society. And to be honest, I wouldn’t waste a heartbeat mourning their loss.

But in the second stage – and beyond – arise some excellent chances for the rest of us to depart this world altogether!» He gave a dry, almost scholarly chuckle, as though making a grim joke at his own expense. «Maarv isn’t certain how our atmosphere might affect the virus, whether it will hasten it or slow it, but with the current intellectual codings, that Class C threshold will almost certainly prove beyond our reach, as it has on every other world before. And after that… well, let us hope we never learn what comes next.»

He glanced at Maarv, his expression softening. «As a scientist, he carries the weight of guilt for what his people have unleashed, and he’s proposing a plan – one he’ll explain to you himself.»

«If we don’t take action and stop the Genemode, it could wipe out all of humanity within a few months – perhaps even sooner. At my own risk, I contacted my ship and received the necessary coordinates. I want to ask you, Kane and John», Maarv went on, visibly troubled, «can I count on your help? My colleagues believe that the presence of native representatives of the planet in our group may be the key element for the mission’s success.

However, I must warn you: what we’re about to do may be deadly dangerous, and our chances of success are extremely slim. Still», he added with a flicker of wry honesty, «you don’t have much of a choice, but there is a chance to see many new things.»

Kane pinched himself hard – was he really awake, or was this just another dream? Could it be that he was about to experience all this, even see it with his own eyes? He was not the kind of man who needed much persuading.

«What’s there to discuss, Maarv? Of course we’re in! Isn’t that right, John? This concerns us directly!» Kane turned to the old man, who immediately seemed to revive, almost looking younger.

«Well, we’ve nothing to lose», John replied, “except perhaps dropping dead a little earlier», he added philosophically. «At least it would be in good company and in an interesting setting! But tell me – how exactly does this Genemode work? How does it manifest itself?»

«There are usually no external signs», Maarv answered. «At each stage, the viral bacteria accumulate within potential carriers of the programmed discrepancies. If the concentration in the body becomes critical and when the mismatches are too many – the Genemode activates, altering the molecular structure of the organism and turning it into a vaporous state within fractions of a second.»

«That sounds rather horrifying», John muttered, shaken, casting a quick glance at Kane, who, grim with thought, looked no better.

Suddenly the bracelet on Maarv’s wrist glowed, and above it appeared a holographic projection of another alien. It was Draam, who said something in his own language before the i vanished as abruptly as it had come.

«We have to leave at once», said Maarv. «We’ve been detected by a hunter, and we are in great danger! Our time is running out.»

«Run to that building!» John exclaimed, pointing toward a low stone structure nestled in greenery and draped with moss. «There’s an entrance to a bunker inside – we can hide there and slip away underground!»

Set into the concrete wall was a massive round vault door. Kane, with some effort and Maarv’s help, managed to open it, and could not help but whistle in surprise. «Now that’s a door!»

John snorted. «Left over from the previous owner. The man was a paranoiac – with a capital P.»

They stepped inside and, with combined effort, swung the enormous, weighty door shut behind them, turning the wheel of the locking mechanism several times until it clanged into place. The sound echoed down the shaft like a warning bell, then was swallowed by silence.

Descending a sheer ladder into the depths, John pulled a heavy lever. Harsh electric light sputtered to life, chasing shadows along the walls. The air smelled faintly of rust and damp stone. Long corridors stretched away in several directions, lined with shelves of dusty boxes and containers, steel cabinets, and the closed doors of storerooms as though the place had been waiting, untouched, for decades.

«It’s actually rather cozy down here», John remarked proprietorially. «One could get used to it, strolling about with an air of importance. There are even a few transformers!»

Suddenly, something thundered above them; the walls shook, and plaster and dust rained from the ceiling.

«That’s a military biodrone», Maarv said, glancing at his bracelet. «Its targets usually don’t live long. Looks like it decided not to bother with precision – it’s clearing the entire perimeter. It’s fortunate your house stands apart from the other settlements.»

«Well, judging by the racket outside, that house is history already», John said with a wry smile. «Never mind, I’ll fix it later.»

Maarv listened intently. «The noise is fading, but I doubt that losing our trail will stop them from hunting us.»

«Then», Kane whispered nervously, «I suggest we postpone sightseeing and run for our lives. That tunnel over there looks perfect for the job.»

«Yes, not a bad idea», John agreed. «But we’d better grab some gear! Some of this is bound to come in handy.»

He turned down a side corridor into a small alcove, where he pulled two compact backpacks from a cabinet. «Here! Just the essentials!» he said loudly, strapping one on with surprising vigor and snapping the buckles into place.

Kane didn’t bother to check what was inside and followed suit. He had no doubt there was nothing superfluous in them, despite their bulk and weight. Well, well! Old John, indeed! ran through his mind. Who would have thought that behind that dignified exterior and noble gray hair lurked a dyed-in-the-wool adventurer, ready for the most unexpected situations?

They walked on for quite a while before reaching another massive round door, much like the one at the entrance, complete with a heavy turning lock mechanism. Beyond it, the tunnel narrowed, and they came upon a small concrete platform with a handcar and rails that disappeared into the darkness.

«Well then, I suggest the next part of our journey be made on iron wheels», John proposed.

«Excellent suggestion», Kane agreed. «I suspect if there are rails and this handcar, these tunnels might stretch on for quite a distance.»

«And what exactly are these… biodrones?» Kane asked. «And why are they so determined to destroy us?»

Maarv didn’t answer right away. His gaze dropped, and he hesitated, as if weighing how much truth to reveal. «A hunter biodrone is a military modification of a standard research drone. Think of it as an airborne cyborg-scout, designed for offensive or blocking ground operations. Small, but with formidable firepower and an organoid intelligence. They usually hunt alone – and now, from the looks of it, it is hunting me.

It seems the Warrior Caste decided to play it safe and prevent even the smallest threat to their far-reaching plans for your planet.» He drew a slow breath, his expression tightening with bitterness. «My colleagues warned me such an outcome was possible, but I never imagined it would happen so quickly. Which means, gentlemen», he added, his voice quieter now, though steady, «that I am a very dangerous companion for you, and you still have time to reconsider.»

Kane sniffed impatiently and shot the alien a pointed look. «Oh, come on, Maarv! Do you really think we’d abandon you, leave you to carry the burden for us and our interests? If anything, it’s we who should be begging you to take us along – without you, we don’t stand a chance at all!»

«Well then», Maarv replied with a smile, «I suspected you weren’t the timid sort, and I was right. If all Earthlings are like you, then woe to anyone who stands in your way!»

«There are probably better ones out there», John muttered, still a little disgruntled, «but at this point, you don’t have much of a choice. Although I must admit, I’m driven by fairly selfish motives as well. After all, this means we Earthlings might also step into space one day and become part of this boundless, unexplored universe. That’s worth any risk.

And the fact that you’re doing all this for us – selflessly, at great personal risk – should tell you that we’ll do the same for you.» He tapped his dimming flashlight against the wall, then added with a faint smile, «If only out of simple gratitude.»

Maarv took a moment to reflect on what he had just heard. To him, as a member of a race long established among the galactic realms, much of it seemed almost commonplace. Yet he was genuinely moved by such understanding and concern – he found himself liking these Earthlings more and more.

He gave a self-conscious little cough into his fist. «Well then, it is a pleasure to find not only kindred spirits but reliable friends as well. And, for what it’s worth, not every race is blessed with a hunger for knowledge and a yearning for the unknown.»

After only half an hour of fumbling, John managed to coax the handcar’s engine into life, and another half-hour later they rattled out of the tunnel onto the grounds of a long-abandoned railway station. The place was shrouded in silence. Rust streaked the steel beams, weeds pushed up between the cracked concrete slabs, and a lone, broken clock still clung to the wall, its hands frozen decades ago.

Chapter 8

The station was vast, stretching for several kilometers. The tracks lay sunken a few meters into the ground, flanked on either side by a tall, timeworn fence of dark maroon brick. On the rails stood old locomotives – yellow-rusted diesels and half-dismantled electrics – along with what looked like research cars and even a small train of ancient carriages. Once, long ago, it must have been painted blue, with the faded words Restoration Train still just visible on its side.

Looking at it all, Kane felt conflicted. On the one hand, the decay stirred in him a dull ache of desolation. Yet on the other, this faded but still strangely vivid watercolor blended beautifully with the golden-red crowns of the surrounding trees. The whole scene – this post-apocalyptic landscape that might have passed for a film set in some amusement park was haunting in its strange harmony.

Suddenly, the device on Maarv’s belt seemed to stir to life, pulsing with crimson light and sending out cryptic signals.

«They’ve tracked us down after all – curse them», he said wearily, forcing himself to gather his thoughts. «And I had hoped to enjoy the view.»

«Well then, there’s nowhere to run», he murmured aloud, rising to his feet and unfolding the virtual control panel of the confluator as he moved. «I’ll try to deal with it», he declared calmly and distinctly, the way one speaks to children in difficult moments. «As for you – take this thing as far as it will go, and don’t stop. Then run, and run as fast as you can!»

A crimson shield flared to life, enveloping Maarv on all sides. «I’ll find you! If this works…» he added with a sorrowful smile to his friends, then leapt from the moving platform straight onto the railway tracks.

The handcar carrying Kane and John, swept away in the chaos of events before they could even grasp what was happening, vanished around the bend. Maarv frantically recalled the combinations of combat commands. I never thought I’d need these again, he muttered to himself while activating his weapon. But I won’t be taken down so easily, he resolved grimly, as the rapidly approaching drone came into view. Its round contours shifted to oval, and from both flanks extended the barrels of heavy atomic cannons.

Circling above him like a predator savoring its prey, the drone unleashed a barrage. They fired simultaneously. Maarv’s energy shields absorbing blasts that flared into dark ripples, steadily draining the reserves on both sides. Stray shots ripped apart the surroundings, turning derelict train cars and jagged concrete structures into molten shrapnel that sprayed in every direction.

Then the drone released a swarm of glinting alloy bolts. Several pierced through Maarv’s shield. One tore clean through his left shoulder; another pinned his leg to the ground, wrenching a grimace of pain from him. Pressing the attack, the drone descended low, almost skimming the earth, as though toying with him before delivering the final blow.

Maarv’s shield was nearly gone. Wrenching a length of rebar from the cracked concrete, he clutched it in helpless fury, knowing this was the end.

Suddenly, behind him came the screech of rending metal, and the ground shook with a growing vibration. Blood from a deep wound on his forehead streamed across Maarv’s face. Barely clinging to consciousness from the searing pain, he caught sight of something massive thundering toward him at terrifying speed.

With the last of his strength, leaning on the length of rebar, he wrenched his leg free from the bolt pinning it to the earth and hurled himself aside. A heavy locomotive roared past at full speed, striking the hunter with the full force and weight of its colossal mass, hurling it far along the tracks, where the iron wheels tore it apart and scattered the fragments in a storm of screeches, crashes, and sparks.

Maarv regained awareness only when Kane was shaking him gently, trying to bring him around. With effort, he forced his eyes open.

«Maarv, you scared the hell out of me», Kane said, pale as a sheet. «I thought you were… you know… done for.»

«What happened?» Maarv asked, wincing from the pain of his wounds. «For a moment there, I thought I was finished myself…»

Kane laughed with relief. «You see, when you so cheerfully decided to step off the handcar, we thought it unfair that all the fun should be yours alone. A little farther on, we spotted that massive iron beast – a derelict locomotive. Its generators and engines were still in decent shape, and I managed to get it running. John climbed into the control tower and, by some miracle, managed to switch the tracks correctly. Lucky, wasn’t it? Guess that drone was never programmed to give way to locomotives – something to keep in mind for your next firmware update!»