Читать книгу To The Stars - Назар Валерьевич Валеев - Страница 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 Lirians – 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.