1
The ripped-open liner hung at the center of a blinding cosmic disco — five triple-star systems blazing from every direction. Two beat-up rust-buckets and a police cutter swarmed around it like flies on a corpse. Harsh scanning had turned up zero signs of life.
— Looks like they got everyone… — The senior tech drew his thumb across his throat. — Inside's just a slurry of guts and limbs.
The safety inspector stared silently at the image on the screen, but his only real desire was to get back to the bar and sink his teeth into a triple Bayard.
The tech winced slightly and tried to edge away without making it obvious. The stench rolling off Doug was the usual cocktail of cheap hooch and raw spirits. He'd even bothered to show up for the job in baggy, sagging sweats and a T-shirt that hadn't seen a wash in a month — or a year, for that matter. The only detail that even hinted at his rank was the Fleet Lieutenant's tunic draped carelessly over his shoulders.
— Alright, crack this tin can open, — Doug ordered, finally done staring, and hit the techs with a blast of alcohol breath so fierce it nearly made their eyes water. — The sooner we're done, the sooner I get back to my goddamn legally-sanctioned drunk. Got to celebrate my demotion somehow, don't I.
Lasers locked onto the liner's armored hatch and ripped the hull open with a hellish screech. Metal groaned and peeled back like tinfoil. Finally, the breach was complete. A boarding tube extended from the police cutter, clamped tight onto the cut opening, and structured itself.
— Everyone back to safe distance, — Doug commanded, grabbing a plasma pistol.
— Nobody was even thinking about getting close, — the tech muttered, signaling his men.
Not waiting for the tech vessels to pull away, Doug stepped inside. Immediately, the nauseating stench of blood and viscera hit him.
— Lights! — he barked, squinting against the emergency diodes that blazed straight into his eyes.
The pirates had done their work thoroughly — stripped everything worth taking. Even ripped the bio-panels off the walls. And everywhere — blood, chunks of meat, stomach contents. Doug dragged his ass slowly along the ship's midline, checking compartments. Cabins — dead. Bridge — stripped down to the bare metal. Cargo holds — bleeding vacuum. In the third hold, Doug caught a flicker of motion at the edge of his vision.
He stopped in front of a melted control console, pretending to study something interesting. And again — a shadow in the ventilation shaft, where an explosion had torn the grate clean off its hinges. A moment later, Doug was at the shaft. He dove in fast, his sinewy hand finding something soft, alive, and he hauled it down.
They exploded out of the vent together, tumbling across the floor. Doug and a scrawny little shit — clearly under twenty — with eyes bugged out in terror. While the stranger coughed up dust and fought for breath, Doug coldly sized up his catch. At twenty-five, he'd seen more than enough, and this white-haired, scrawny brat with the eyes of a cornered little animal stirred only dull irritation in him.
— How the hell did the scanners miss you? Probably clocked you as a worm. At your age, you should've grown some muscle by now, — he stated with contempt, and grabbing the kid by the scruff of his neck, ordered: — Move.
He dragged the prisoner — who was trying uselessly to dig his heels into the floor — toward the exit and onto his own cutter. He hauled him into the interrogation room, gave his pockets a perfunctory pat for show, and tossed him onto the single stool across from the table. The lamps clicked on instantly — designed to burn whatever was left of the subject's composure and calm out of them.
With a tired sigh, Doug dropped into the chair opposite, gave the trembling kid a flat, indifferent once-over, and started the interrogation.
— Alright, worm. Let's start with warm-ups. Name. Surname, if you've got one. DNA marker. And the big question — the one I need a pretty, truthful answer to… Why are you alive when everyone around you is dead?
— Name? — the foundling echoed, locking eyes with Doug. — Kate.
The inspector's brows drew together.
— The hell kind of girl's name is that? — he jeered, as though he hadn't heard right.
— My mother wanted a daughter so badly she never accepted she had me instead, — the kid explained, completely unruffled.
— And you, of course, did your absolute best to live up to that? — Doug picked up with biting sarcasm, letting his gaze trail over the kid's frail frame.
Kate's jaw tightened. A muscle twitched along his cheekbones — but he swallowed the insult in silence.
Doug narrowed his eyes and continued:
— Surname?
— Don't remember.
— DNA marker?
— Four.
During the answers, Doug nodded approvingly, studying the micro-expressions on the kid's face. His gaze swept across the features, reading the twitch of facial muscles, the dilation of pupils…
Wait.
Doug caught a tiny, almost imperceptible red flicker deep in Kate's pupil when the kid dropped his gaze.
An implant.
Expensive. High-grade. With database access.
They don't give those implants to puny kids hiding from pirates in ventilation shafts. That's why the scanner missed him. Doug rocked slowly back in his chair, exhaled through his nose — hitting Kate with a thick wave of alcohol — and without a single word of warning, slapped him open-palmed across the ear so hard the kid's head snapped sideways.
Kate gasped in shock and nearly flipped off the stool. Clutching his head, he winced — a drop of blue blood slowly rolled from his nose.
— You're telling me they let you into space with a fourth-grade DNA marker? — Doug barked, suddenly looming over the cowering kid. — Tell those fairy tales to your mother, worm. Where'd you get the money for that implant? You in with the pirates?
And then something shifted in Kate. The confusion and fear drained from his face, like paint washed away. He lowered his hands, smearing blood across his cheek, and raised his eyes to the inspector — eyes now burning with pure, undisguised rage. He wasn't even trying to look harmless anymore.
— Fuck off, you cop-rat! — he hissed — so quietly, so poisonously, that the words seemed to hang in the air like jagged shards of glass.
Silence. You could hear the ship's systems humming.
Doug tilted his head, studying the spirited little brat with careful attention. No anger. Just cold, relentless curiosity. A crooked smile twisted his lips:
— Well. Now you're royally fucked.
He rose in one fluid spring, shoving the chair back against the wall with a smooth motion. Kate scrambled to his feet instinctively, backing away until he hit the wall. Pressing his spine against the plastic panel, he frantically searched for an exit. But the door was sealed tight.
Doug circled the table, tracking every move Kate made, every breath he took. He grabbed the kid's chin with coarse fingers, forcing his head up, and stared at the implant.
— Expensive toy, — the inspector said with practiced authority. — Shame about the casing, though — it's fragile.
And he struck.
An uppercut, straight to the solar plexus.
His fist sank into the body, barely meeting any resistance. The air exploded out of Kate's lungs. He doubled over, but Doug yanked him upright, forcing him to straighten. For a second, Doug watched the kid try to inhale — and fail. Watched his eyes practically pop out of his skull from pain-shock and diaphragmatic spasm.
— Fourth marker, you said? — the inspector grinned, and let go. Kate crumpled to the floor instantly, still failing to drag in oxygen. — I've put fourth-marker gutter-trash into a coma with less than that.
He nudged the prisoner with his boot toe, rolling him over, then stomped him in the ribs. Not too hard — just enough to crack open his breathing, not to break bone. And finally, Kate managed to suck in air with a wet sob.
For a full minute, Doug ground his boot into him — not putting his full weight into it, but not holding back either. He listened carefully to the dull thuds against ribs, the ragged wheezing turning into moans. Finally, he stepped back, giving the kid time to catch his breath and roll onto his side. For a few seconds, Kate just lay there, twitching with every inhale. A thin stream of blood trickled from his half-open mouth.
Then Doug noticed, with genuine surprise, that Kate was trying to get up. He took a step back, watching as the kid — trembling from pain and exertion — planted his fists on the floor, heaved his chest up, dragged his legs under him, and finally rose to his knees. Not stopping there, Kate pulled one leg up, then the other, and straightened to his full height. Throwing his head back, he stared at Doug with pure hatred and hissed — the words mixing with clots of blood spilling from his mouth:
— Screw you and your fourth-marker scum, you bastard. I'll smear you across the wall!
Doug froze. His eyebrows crept upward. Surprise flickered across his face, then something like genuine interest — and suddenly, he laughed.
— You little bitch! — he breathed out. — You piece of garbage! Well... Wellllll. Now we're going to have a real conversation.
He didn't finish. He didn't see Kate move. He only had time to register eyes blazing with fury ten centimeters from his face — and to feel a steel elbow slam into his body. The exact same strike — solar plexus — but this time with killing intent. Doug flew back against the wall, his head cracking against the steel beam of the overhead spotlight. Rainbow rings swam before his eyes, and there wasn't a second to draw breath.
A hurricane of rage crashed down on him — pure, undiluted fury. The blows were wild, hysterical, thrown without rhythm or technique, and they terrified him. Doug tried to block, to catch an arm, but Kate smashed through his guard without even looking.
When Kate got close enough, he lunged forward and sank his teeth into Doug's forearm — through skin and muscle with a guttural snarl. The inspector screamed in fear and shock. He flung Kate off like a rabid dog, and the kid flew back, spitting blood, already braced to launch again.
Suddenly Doug realized: two more attacks like that, and he was dead. His thoughts raced frantically, scrambling for a way out.
The cuffs!
He'd shoved them into his sweats when he was gearing up for the job. He'd even thought — will I need them or not — like an idiot. Desperately kicking out with his legs, Doug jammed his hand into his pocket, and his numb, freezing fingers found the cold steel. Kate had already scrambled onto his chest and was working his way toward his neck. Jaw wide, blood-smeared mouth — reaching for the pulsing aorta.
In a last desperate effort, without looking, Doug fumbled one cuff around Kate's wrist and yanked his arm down — toward the table leg bolted to the floor. He snapped the second bracelet on blind, then launched himself as far back as he could.
Kate lunged, trying to reach him — but the steel held his arm fast. He made a sound like a wounded animal's growl — pure hatred. Spit, mixed with blood, dripped from his chin to the floor.
Doug stared at Kate, who was still struggling to break free, and couldn't believe his eyes. This worm wasn't a random survivor. He was the cause. The reason the liner was dead.
Breathing hard, the inspector slumped against the wall, never taking his eyes off Kate writhing under the table. His whole body hummed like a convoy of heavy haulers had run him over. His bitten arm throbbed and pulsed — still oozing blood.
In a daze, Doug watched the kid trying to gnaw through solid steel with his teeth. And Doug could have sworn — given a couple of years, he'd have done it.
Dragging himself to the bridge, he crashed behind the navigation panel and cracked open the screen. Composing the incident report, he gradually pulled himself together. Even caught a flicker of irony.
— No big deal, — Doug said to Kate, who had already come to after the beating and was trying to sit up. — Maybe they'll even give me a bonus. What do you think? Could they give me a bonus for bagging such a massive piece of shit? — After sending the report, Doug turned around and went full throttle on the prisoner: — Well? Getting lonely without your pirate buddies?
Kate grinned slowly:
— Buddies? A pack of rats. They bailed the second I got distracted for a minute. Couldn't wait their turn.
— And what distracted you? Grinding the crew and passengers into mincemeat? How many were there — fifty? For your head, they'll probably transfer me back to the border. What do you think? Huh?
Kate just growled in response, yanking against the cuffs so hard they clanged against the metal. Doug laughed. Pushing the navigation panel aside, he pulled out a half-empty bottle of the cheapest rotgut you could buy in this sector. Biting the cap off with his teeth, he took a few long swigs, almost draining the thing. Then he tossed the bottle to Kate:
— Finish it, — he grunted. — A reward for your heroics.
Kate's upper lip curled in contempt. He looked at the bottle, then at Doug. Then, with a sharp motion of his free hand, he snatched it up, drained the rest in one go, and smashed the neck against the edge of the table. Glass shattered, leaving a dangerous shank in the kid's hand — sharp, jagged teeth. On the exhale, he hurled it at Doug.
The inspector dodged, and the remains of the bottle exploded against the wall.
— You dumb fuck, — Doug said, almost with tenderness, watching Kate foam with helpless rage. — So you kill me. What then? Just sit there chained up until the grunts show up? Sit and wait. And then they'd take their time with you. Grab you by the hair and…
And then Doug's gaze snagged on something he'd been too hungover to notice during the discovery and the subsequent interrogation.
The hair.
White hair. Not grey. What if it wasn't dyed?
An ice-cold spike of dread shot through his body, making his vessels constrict. No way.
Doug lunged for the built-in cabinet where the standard interrogation toolkit was stored. His fingers, trembling, smeared with blue blood, found a small black scanner — a portable DNA analyzer. It was used for body identification, but right now he needed a live sample.
Doug spun around to face Kate. The kid froze, staring at the device with the look of a cornered beast, sensing fresh danger. He tried to lunge. The table leg scraped, but the cuffs held.
— Let me see what the hell you are, — Doug rasped.
With a sharp, precise motion, he kicked Kate in the gut, making the kid choke on a wet, bloody cough. That second was enough. He jammed the scanner against Kate's neck, right under the hairline. A short, high-pitched sound — sample taken.
Kate thrashed in a fresh burst of rage, but it was too late. Doug had already stepped back, staring at the small analyzer screen. The seconds dragged by. Each one felt like a year.
Finally, the scanner beeped and the result flashed on the screen: 1+.
The world shrank to two digits. The hum of the ship's engines faded. The pain disappeared. Kate's ragged breathing vanished. His heart dropped into his gut, then plummeted into a black hole.
Doug slowly raised his eyes and met the pale grey ones, where something other than rage and fury had finally surfaced — triumph.
He looked back at the screen: 1+. No way. It couldn't be.
And he'd already sent the report!
Might as well have signed his own death warrant. No — scratch that. He'd just ordered his own firing squad.
With a furious snarl, a flood of curses poured from Doug's mouth. After cursing every ancestor and descendant of Kate's to the tenth generation in both directions of the timeline, Doug still wasn't done.
— You abomination! You goddamn... sewer rat! — he screamed, and launching up, started stomping Kate.
The madness began again — Doug hammering the prisoner's body with his steel-toed boots while Kate twisted and dodged, trying to grab his leg and throw him off balance. Finally, Doug ran out of steam.
Seeing the prisoner still unbroken, Doug stormed out of the interrogation room, leaving the door wide open behind him.
He tore through the ship to the bridge like a hurricane, knocking everything in his path aside.
— Alright, — he forced himself to take a deep breath, trying to calm down. — No big deal. What are those spooks gonna do to me anyway? I'm already up shit creek without a paddle. Can't get any deeper.
But he couldn't stop himself. He spun around and unleashed another torrent of abuse at Kate, savoring every second, watching with sick pleasure as the worm writhed and snarled, helpless to do anything.
A couple of hours later, a sharp, mechanical signal cut through the silence — an incoming message on the comms: "Activate docking port. Observer from Special Division — Shiruko Stanley."
Doug flinched like he'd been doused in boiling water. He shot to his feet, cursing — but this time without any bravado. Just raw, naked fear.
— Shit, shit, shit! An Observer? What the hell did I do to deserve that? — he muttered, staring helplessly at the screen.
Kate laughed sharply.
Doug should have smashed his face in — right in the teeth, just to wipe that disgusting smile off. But Doug, pale as paper, silently pressed the dock activation button. Together with Kate, he watched the grey Observer's cutter latch onto the grimy brown police cruiser. The boarding tubes hissed, swelling to seal the connection, and five assault troops stepped through the open hatch.
Not enough, the inspector thought. To handle this psycho, you'd need fifteen Vorlocks. Maybe twenty.
Doug rose slightly, watching them sweep the perimeter with practiced, fluid efficiency, establishing a zero zone. Finally, one of them, satisfied there was no threat, activated his comm and reported:
— Clear.
Doug tensed up, nervously waiting for the Observer to appear. But instead, he saw a short, dark-haired kid — practically a boy.
"What is this, a daycare?" — Doug gawked in bewilderment, not understanding what was happening.
The boy's grey eyes slid indifferently over the inspector, darted along the navigation panel, and finally stopped, settling on the open door to the interrogation room.
— He in there? — the Special Division officer asked quietly.
— He who? — Doug repeated. — And who are you? I was expecting an Observer.
— Captain Second Rank of the Military Space Fleet, Shiruko Stanley. Observer from Special Division, — the kid introduced himself officially, and with cutting sarcasm in his voice, added: — Need me to clarify why I'm here? Or can you guess?
Doug fell silent, baffled. Was this another one with a 1+ DNA marker? One of those drafted into the military structure from the cradle, holding an officer's rank by fifteen? Doug had only heard legends about such people. Never seen one in person. Well. Now he finally got himself some luck.
Meanwhile, Shiruko proceeded into the interrogation room with two assault troop shadows at his back, stopped a step away from Kate, and stared at the prisoner like a sheep at a new gate. Then he turned to Doug with a question:
— Why is he in this condition?
Doug shrugged:
— He showed insufficient interest in cooperating with the investigation. Had to explain his civic duty to him, — he recited the standard excuse.
Not a single muscle twitched on the Observer's face. He turned back to the prisoner.
— Why didn't you give your surname? — the Observer asked, unsealing his lips after a couple of seconds.
Kate, eyes narrowed, studied the unusual visitor carefully and calmly. Shiruko waited in silence for a reaction.
— Don't remember, — Kate finally answered, defiantly.
— If you don't answer, I'll order you shot, — Shiruko stated. — Surname.
— Don't remember.
Shiruko made a gesture. The guard on the right aimed his weapon at the prisoner sitting on the floor and pressed the activation. The gun let out a low whine.
— Surname, — Shiruko repeated for the third time.
— Don't remember. — Kate threw his head back, boring his gaze into the Observer, and curled his lip in contempt.
Shiruko turned, glanced at Doug, and commanded:
— Take them all.
One of the assault troopers moved toward Doug. He tensed, turning pale and blue at the same time.
— Are you out of your minds?! — he barked, trying to somehow hold onto control. — I'm acting in my official capacity! Fleet Safety Inspector! You have no right!
While he tried to fight off one brute, a second trooper came up from the side, and magnetic cuffs snapped shut around his wrists.
— I'll file an appeal! Do you know who I am? — Doug bellowed at Shiruko.
The Observer nodded:
— Of course. Doug Greenwood. Former Border Service officer. Demoted in rank and transferred to the position of Fleet Safety Inspector in Sector 232. Last drank twenty hours ago at the bar "Moondust." Was called from there to the incident. Last order at the bar… — Shiruko's eyes darted to the side, as if scanning for information; a red flicker flashed in his pupils, and then they snapped back into place: — Two vodkas, a tequila boom, and a triple "Bayard" with pepper vodka.
— You… — Doug choked on his words. — You have no right…
— Special Division has all the rights, Inspector, — Shiruko replied calmly. — Don't make your situation worse.
Doug was dragged through the docking tube onto the Observer's grey, sterile-virgin ship. In the common cabin, along the bulkhead, a row of massive chairs with shackles ran down the length of the wall. Doug was roughly shoved into one of them. The magnetic bracelets on his wrists clicked into the chair's locks with a dull thud, fixing him in place. His legs were locked down too. He couldn't move an inch.
A minute later, Kate was brought in, walking under the control of two guns aimed at the back of his head. A third — further back, ready to fire at any moment. As soon as the shackles closed around him, Kate turned his head toward Doug. On his bruised, blood-smeared face, a slow, poisonous grin spread — the very same one, full of death's triumph.
— Well, Inspector, — he asked quietly, beaming. — How's that bonus treating you? And a free trip to the resort? I almost envy you.
Doug clenched his teeth, staring at the wall. But Kate wouldn't let up:
— Don't like the straps too tight? That's just safety protocol. So you don't fall and hurt yourself during takeoff.
— Shut up, — Doug finally rasped.
— Or what? You'll start kicking me with your feet while I'm chained up?
— I said shut up, you worm! — Doug bellowed, jerking against his restraints and immediately getting a fairly nasty electric shock for his trouble. He howled.
Kate laughed:
— You look like you're about to bite me, — Kate wouldn't let up. — But do you even have the strength?
He stretched his lips into a grin, baring teeth coated in blue-tinged blood. Doug's blood.
— I'll kill you! — Doug hissed, jerking again and catching another shock.
— Of course, — Kate agreed easily. — You'll kill me. I can't wait. I'll even request the same cell. Promise me you won't let me get bored in OSO's basements.
— Both of you, shut up, — Shiruko commanded, appearing in the cabin doorway.
Cutting off any protests, he pressed a button on his remote, and both prisoners convulsed from electrical shocks. Shiruko watched in silence for about a minute, then let off the button. The prisoners could finally breathe.
— Kate, — Shiruko addressed the prisoner. — Behave yourself. Set an example for your brother.
Kate's eyes flew open so wide his implant nearly popped out.
— What brother? — he rasped, looking at Doug with wild suspicion.
— Your younger one, — Shiruko explained, and for the first time, something like a smile appeared on his face. — Me.
While Kate was trying to gather his scattered thoughts, Shiruko continued:
— Alright, I can see you're thrilled to have found such a wonderful family in me. But we have one problem. — He jabbed a finger at Doug without looking. — This genius couldn't come up with anything better than to send Special Division a full scan of your DNA marker with the note "cause of the incident."
Turning his pale face to Doug at last, Shiruko finished in a voice ringing with fury:
— It took me an hour. An hour! An hour to bury that report in the registry. — He turned back to Kate: — But don't worry, brother. That report never existed. Incident with the liner? Never happened either. And you? You don't exist, — Shiruko's icy eyes locked onto the blue-faced inspector: — Probably fell into a reactor collector after a bender at "Moondust." I'm sure witnesses could even be found, if one looked hard enough. Not that anyone's likely to look. Well? How do you like how I arranged everything?
Shiruko smiled with satisfaction, inviting the prisoners to share in his good news.
Doug swallowed nervously. He was gone. He was dead. What could be worse? Only the fact that Shiruko was staring at him with that happy smile, like he'd just brought his grandmother's pastries as a gift. His only hope now — to not die any more than he already had — was to somehow prove useful to this psychopath. And Doug had no doubt Shiruko was a psychopath. Just look at his brother. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree… A rotten apple from a rotten tree.
Kate spat out a blue clot of blood from his mouth:
— What is this? Some new interrogation technique? Go shove your brotherhood up your ass!
He paused, staring Shiruko straight in the eyes.
— Bury the registry, my ass. Sure he did.
Shiruko didn't answer. He just pressed the button again.
Doug bit his lip to keep from screaming. Kate arched in his chair so hard it looked like his forearms were about to snap.
— I figured you wouldn't remember me. That's alright. We'll be at Headquarters soon, — Shiruko's voice came through, soft and calm. — And there I'll present two prisoners who escaped from a human colony beyond the Empire's borders. You and Doug will undergo medical examination, and then I can enter you into the registry. Kate, you'll be a citizen again. You'll be my brother again.
Kate stared at the psycho for a few seconds, then a crooked grin twisted his lips:
— Like I give a shit. Be the devil himself for all I care. Who else would want to call themselves my brother?
Doug saw Shiruko's answering smile and felt ice-cold horror drop into his stomach.
2
— You're almost through the screening, — Shiruko informed his charges.
He stretched his lips into a smile at Doug, then turned to Kate, who was staring with indifferent disinterest at the first-aid training posters on the wall.
— Kate, just one more thing — a psych eval interview. Try to answer with a candid look, — the younger brother began lecturing, deliberately pretending not to notice how much the situation was grating on Kate. — Your job is to sell the doctor on the story: you were a prisoner, you barely remember anything. If he asks where you were held — you don't know. How you ended up in captivity — no idea. If he starts asking what you did there — you don't remember. Blame it all on traumatic stress and amnesia. No confessions. If they find out about any cooperation with humans — we all end up beyond the Perimeter. Doug?
Shiruko switched his attention to the inspector, but Doug waved off the pushy little upstart:
— I'm not a child, don't need you telling me how to do my job. Shit, I feel like a clown. Can't you just paint this interview in the registry?
Hatred flared in Shiruko's eyes:
— Paint? Imagine this — I can't. The registry requires video documentation of the examination with full biometrics of the interrogation! And all because of some alky from the back end of nowhere who burned the data in the registry. Do you even understand what I had to do to turn myself inside out to seal that cell with your idiotic report? I'm forced to send Kate for examination NOW, and he's not ready. Because of your idiocy, I don't have time to prep him!
Shiruko clenched his fists, stepping forward — but at that moment, the green indicator above the psych office lit up.
— Douglas Greenwood, — a female voice announced through the speaker.
Doug walked briskly toward the door. Shiruko stood in silence, waiting, making no attempt to sit. By an effort of will, he forced himself not to look at his brother, who was still studying the posters as if none of this concerned him.
About twenty minutes later, the door opened and Doug appeared in the doorway.
— All good, — he answered Shiruko's unspoken question.
The lamp flashed again.
— Kaitlyn Stanley.
Kate stood up and, without looking at anyone, moved forward.
— Don't know, don't remember, — Shiruko whispered the saving mantra.
— Back off, rat, — Kate hissed, grabbing the handle.
He slipped inside and slammed the door so hard it nearly came off its hinges. The doctor flinched, fixing his gaze on the pale face of his subject, immediately noting the glassy stare.
"Hysterical kid. Hormonal outburst," he decided, having just finished with Doug.
— Come in, have a seat, — he invited Kate.
Kate silently took two steps and dropped into the soft chair in the middle of the room, immediately noticing the slightly bulging pocket of the doctor's coat. Kate smirked inwardly — no doubt this cowardly piece of shit was keeping a gun in there.
— You spent ten years in captivity beyond the Empire's borders, in a human colony. Is that correct?
— Don't remember, — Kate wrinkled his forehead. — Maybe ten. Didn't count.
"They all parrot the same thing," the psychologist noted automatically.
— Ten years among humans. Ten years breathing in their stench. I want to understand how deep it's soaked into your skin. — The doctor paused, studying Kate's face. Kate sat in silence, expressionless. — How did you end up there?
— Don't remember.
— What's your first memory from captivity?
— A bucket of shit over my head, — Kate declared defiantly, and added: — And a log in the gut.
The doctor's gaze noted how his fingers twitched, digging into the armrests of the chair.
— Do you remember your name?
— Kate.
— Good. And your surname?
— Don't remember.
— How often did they beat you?
— Don't remember.
— You're lying! — The psychologist grabbed the chair and spun it toward himself, looming over him, breathing right into his face. — "Don't remember" is what traitors say. Those who have something to hide. How often did they beat you?
Kate stared with hatred into the pale blue eyes trying to drill the rage out of him, and stated firmly:
— Don't remember.
"Angry at himself for being a coward?" The psychologist barely held back a smile and moved to the next phase:
— How did you lose the eye?
— Lost it, — Kate replied indifferently.
But the psychologist caught a micro-twitch at the corner of his mouth. Abandoning the standard questions, he switched to a force-method to extract the truth — whether there had been collaboration or not.
— Did they make you wait on them? — the Vorlock inquired, not breaking the uncomfortable proximity. — Did they make you wait on them? Polish their boots? Or lick them?
Kate's cheeks turned blue from the rush of blood.
— Don't remember…
"This is where they all break," the doctor thought, slipping his hand into his pocket. "Just need to push a little harder."
— Did they make you sit in a shit;pit? — the psychologist continued, methodically pressing on the sore spot.
Kate jolted upright, his pupils darting to the sides, nearly swallowing his irises whole.
— You sat in it. And they dumped slop over your head, — the psychologist stated with confidence. — What else?
— Don't remember, — tore from Kate's mouth in a rasping exhale.
But the doctor kept pushing:
— You've got six healed fractures on each wrist. I know why. — He leaned so close that his breath didn't have time to cool before hitting Kate's skin, and whispered: — So do you.
A nearly inaudible click — the hammer of a drawn pistol. The blood drained from Kate's face, his skin turning white as paper.
"Broke him!" the psychologist decided with sick satisfaction. "Now for the collaboration part."
— Well? — the doctor barked, spraying spittle. — Yes?
— Fuck you! — Kate finally exploded, lunging to his feet.
— The scar on your back. Before or after? — a vile, mocking smile flickered across the doctor's lips — and vanished instantly when he finally realized what he'd done.
Kate's fingers dug into the throat that had dared to utter those words. He yanked the windpipe down. A dull crack. The body crumpled heavily to the floor, head lolling lifelessly. The psychologist never even got his hand out of his pocket.
Deafening silence filled the room, broken only by Kate's ragged breathing. He stood over the body, every muscle tensed, madness thrashing in his eyes.
Above his head, a red light began to flash.
The door burst open and security stormed in. Through the threshold, Kate saw his brother's pupils blown wide. Without breaking that gaze, he silently allowed himself to be struck, cuffed, and led away.
An hour later, in his office, Shiruko received the results of the final test:
"Subject: Kate. Irreversible psychological breakdown. Uncontrollable fits of aggression. Recommendation: terminate. Confirm execution — code 377."
Despair clenched his throat.
He'd spat on everything — spent half his life clawing his way to this position just to have access to information. Three years tracking every border-sector incident. And then finally — Doug's report. He'd done the impossible, intercepted it in time, destroyed it. But the cell had already been created. He'd had to improvise a cover story about two escaped colonists.
His fingers trembled over the holographic order. Confirm the execution code?
— Go to hell! — Shiruko roared, unleashing the very same hatred that boiled in both of them, crumpling the virtual document and flinging it aside. — I'll die first!
And then a thought flashed through his mind — Kate had never confessed to collaboration. That meant there was still a chance.
Shiruko created a new document and began typing with numbing fingers:
"Request for reclassification.
Subject: Kate.
Current status: recommended for termination.
Proposed status: eliminator.
Justification: uncontrollable aggression, survival reflexes prioritized above all else, absence of moral constraints and emotional attachment.
Attachment: video record of incident with medical personnel.
Guarantor: Shiruko Stanley.
Degree of guarantee: life."
He submitted the official request to turn his brother into an executioner. A request for the only chance to keep him alive.
Shiruko waited half the night, staring tensely into the dark screen. Finally, an incoming message beeped. With a numbed hand, he jabbed his finger at the notification.
"Order 4276. Subject: K-9. Recommendation: termination, still. Grounds: uncontrollable aggression. Note: if subject S-42 confirms control — execution delayed."
In the morning, as soon as the sun rose above the horizon, Doug and Kate were pulled from their cells and escorted to Shiruko's office.
The Observer met them with red-rimmed eyes, disheveled, his forehead damp with sweat. Doug raised an eyebrow in surprise — in the week of their close acquaintance, he'd never seen the kid in such a state.
— Congratulations, — Shiruko announced glumly, straining with all his might to slip the mask of impenetrable condescension back onto his face, after the shackles had been removed. — The interview is cleared.
— Whoa, Kate passed too? — Doug couldn't hide his surprise. — Who would've thought it could work out like that…
— Here's your citizen's card, — Shiruko handed Doug a holographic passport, which was absorbed into his wrist comm.
For the first time during the conversation, Shiruko looked his brother in the face.
Tousled white strands of hair fell across his forehead, half-covering an old scar above his brow. Kate's icy grey, almost transparent eyes reflected nothing.
— You'll get your documents later, — Shiruko reported in a mechanical voice. — After your status is confirmed.
— What status? — Kate asked with complete disinterest.
— You're being appointed to the position of ship captain. You'll have a squad of eliminators under your command. I picked the best. Flor, Vice…
— Go shove your best up your ass! — Kate's hackles raised.
But Shiruko continued, as if he hadn't heard the outburst:
— And Doug, — after a micro-pause, the Observer added with inexpressible softness: — He'll be your personal assistant.
Kate blinked, straightened up, and turned to face the now-pale inspector. Doug flinched at the mention of his name but didn't dare make a sound.
— Are you satisfied? — Shiruko suddenly asked, peering darkly into his brother's face. — Did I guess right?
— Did I ask you to pull me out? — Kate countered instead of answering. — Did I ask you to stick your nose into my life?
— If it weren't for me, you wouldn't have any life at all right now. That inspector would have kicked your internal organs out of you, then shot you during an "escape attempt" so he wouldn't have to deal with the paperwork.
Kate ground his teeth, but immediately pulled himself together. Turning his face to Doug, he inquired with a cannibalistic little smile:
— So we're going to be working together now? How nice that I'll be your captain.
Doug shot Shiruko a pleading look. But the Observer watched with an impenetrable face, making no attempt to intervene in the newly-minted captain's conversation.
And Kate, meanwhile, kept taunting him:
— I think we'll get along. I promise to be strict but unfair, right, little bro?
— Yes, Captain, — the Observer confirmed.
Doug felt cold beads of sweat trickle down his back.
Kate, not taking his furious gaze off his assistant, asked his brother:
— I want to assume command right now. Can I start giving orders yet?
Shiruko smirked:
— No. First, you have to take possession of the ship.
Trying to make his words sound as crushing as possible, Kate confided to Doug:
— You'll have to wait. I know, you can't wait for that first order from your captain. But you're patient, right? Right?
Doug looked pleadingly at Shiruko. But in the Observer's answering gaze, only one merciless reply pounded:
"Remember how you beat him while he was chained up? I remember. And you'll pay for it."
Doug finally understood: he was dead in the water — burned and buried by Shiruko in the depths of a reactor collector.
The ship — an old, slow-moving cargo cutter — was already standing by, engines humming. Kate headed straight for the armory, but suddenly stopped and turned to his brother with a question:
— And where do you think you're going?
— I've been assigned to your ship as an Observer, — the Special Division officer reported impassively.
— What for? — Kate asked suspiciously.
— Someone has to squeal to the Committee. And who could do it better than me — your beloved little brother?
Kate froze for a split second, and Doug felt a tiny ray of hope flicker through the storm clouds. One psychopath was much better than two. But that ray was mercilessly crushed.
— Fine. Just stay out of my way, — the new captain granted graciously.
Armed to the teeth — two throwing knives, a pistol, a cutter on his belt — Kate finally decided to introduce himself to the crew patiently waiting for him on the bridge. Doug took half a step forward as Kate entered the helm and reported:
— Captain, the crew…
— My name is Kaitlyn Stanley. And yeah, it's a girl's name. Deal with it. If I hear anyone laughing about it, I'll knock all your teeth out and make you swallow them, — Kate cut him off, introducing himself. — I'm your new captain.
He stopped, pupils narrowed into two venomous slits, staring at the crew — two assault troopers from Shiruko's personal guard.
— You can start hating me now, — he continued. — Hate me and follow orders. No discussions. No delays. I give an order — you do it and report back. No questions. No small talk. Not even about the weather. Clear?
Flor, a young pilot who'd only turned twenty-two months ago, grinned stupidly:
— What, not even about the weather?
He didn't even have time to blink. A blow under the chin sent him sprawling onto his back. Kate loomed over the fallen man, watching his flailing with detached interest, then pressed his boot down on his throat — pressing, but not finishing. After two minutes, the pilot, already turning blue, let out a strangled sound. Only then did Kate remove his foot. Flor, gasping and wiping blood, crawled away from him.
— Anyone else want to ask something? — Kate said softly, turning to Vice.
Vice stood frozen, not moving, not even breathing. Only beads of sweat rolled down his pale cheeks, breaking the chain of command.
At that moment, Shiruko's calm voice came from behind:
— Captain, for Flor and Vice, it's a great honor to serve under your command. I vouch that this is the best thing that could have happened to them in their entire careers.
Flor, wiping blood, exchanged a glance with Vice. Undisguised horror was frozen on their faces. It became clear — the Observer wasn't going to rein in this psycho.
Kate snorted and asked loudly:
— Anyone else need a reminder of the rules?
Silence.
Then Kate spun around, grabbed Doug by the arm, and dragged him to stand in line with him. Throwing his arm around his assistant's shoulders like an old friend, he bared his teeth:
— And this, — he hissed, locking eyes with his new subordinates. — My irreplaceable assistant. Former police rat and alky — hopefully not former. Douglas Greenwood — or as I like to call him, Dug.
Vice, still trying to process what was happening, couldn't help a crooked smile — a nervous reaction to the sheer absurdity of the scene.
Kate caught it instantly. His face twisted with rage.
— If I see anyone give him a dirty look, — he hissed, digging his nails into his assistant's shoulder. — I'll scrape your brains out while you're still alive. With a dessert spoon.
He finally released Doug and stepped back, savoring the moment.
— Dug?
Doug cleared his dry throat, bracing for the worst:
— Yes, Captain?
— Coffee. And the sector navigation charts. Now.
3
Doug's half-fainting sleep was torn apart by the hated trill of an incoming call. Without opening his eyes, the former inspector clenched his fists. He knew perfectly well who was calling — the Captain. That worm, that white-haired freak with a girl's name, that abomination. The call kept persistently tearing through the darkness. Doug forced his eyes open, crusted with yellowish pus — the result of cleaning radioactive accumulators.
Half past four in the morning?
He'd blacked out at three. Doug swallowed a lump of bile and pressed the answer button.
— Come see me, — he heard Kate's sweet, almost melodic voice in his ear.
Doug threw off the blanket and sat up. One good thing — he'd crashed in his clothes, still wearing his boots. So no time wasted on a shower or hunting for clean underwear. Everything he owned had long since migrated from just a stinking pile to a pile of impossible, eye-watering filth.
Leaving his cabin, he slammed the door hard enough for Shiruko — that headquarters rat — to hear. Doug didn't expect any protection. Just breaking the Observer's sleep would be enough.
In the corridor, he ran into Vice. The man as usual pretended not to notice him, staring at his comm.
— Not even a 'good morning'? — Doug couldn't resist.
Vice tucked his head into his shoulders and, muttering "Hey," quickened his pace, never raising his eyes.
In his cabin, Kate lounged in a chair before a table cluttered with bottles. The smell of cheap synthetic alcohol and stale sweat mixed into a potent cocktail.
— Ah, my favorite assistant, — Kate greeted him with a relaxed smile. — Sit down. Keep me company.
— I don't have time, — Doug cut him off, well aware how this could end. The cracks in his ribs from the last drinking session still hadn't healed. — You're the one who buried me in assignments for a week ahead.
— Nonsense, — Kate waved it off, pouring the liquor into shot glasses. — Meet the sunrise with your captain. It's tradition. You wouldn't want to break tradition, would you?
Doug, without sitting down, silently took a glass and tipped it down his wide-open throat. Kate laughed and, pointing to the chair opposite, launched into some idiotic jokes. Doug perched on the edge of the seat and, without relaxing, waited for the trap.
At exactly eight, Kate glanced at the clock and his face turned serious. Doug straightened, starting to rise from his chair.
— Doug? It's eight already? Did you check the valve seals? — Kate fixed his grey eyes on his assistant, burning with solemn fury and pleasure. — The check should have been done by eight. What the hell were you doing hitting the bottle first thing in the morning?
Rage flooded him like a hot wave. Doug barely restrained himself from strangling that vile beast right there in that comfortable captain's chair.
— You made me drink! — Doug hissed, imagining smashing Kate's head against the wall, his hand buried in those blindingly white strands of hair.
— Me? — The captain's eyes practically glowed with sadistic delight. He didn't even try to hide it. — I offered to observe a tradition. Meet the sunrise with your captain. Did I tell you to drink? No. You took the glass yourself and you drank it yourself. Look at yourself — shitfaced first thing in the morning.
Doug exhaled loudly, at a loss for words.
— Go check the control relays, — Kate ordered.
— What about the valves? — Doug hissed, feeling the roof about to blow off.
— The valves? — Kate pursed his lips into a pout, like a little child. — I don't understand. Are you the one who decides what, who, and when now? Go do the fucking relays!
Cursing everything in existence, Doug headed to the bridge. Not even half an hour passed before his comm buzzed again. Doug let out a long, intricate stream of profanity.
— Greenwood, — Kate breathed softly, and Doug flinched as if struck by a whip. — I hope you checked the valves? You're not planning to sentence the crew to a painful death in a vacuum, are you?
Doug snarled and cut the call. He burst into the captain's cabin, breathing heavily, ready to tear that worm a new one.
— You told me to do the relays!
— Yes, — Kate agreed. — And did I tell you not to check the valves? Or are you implying that the captain might have ignored an important safety procedure?
He stepped forward, savouring every second, every muscle trembling on Doug's face.
— Maybe you're tired of being here? Maybe you want, as it says in the documents, to take a dive into a reactor collector?
In a rage, Doug took an involuntary step forward. That was all it took.
Kate delivered a lightning-fast, pinpoint strike with the edge of his palm to the diaphragm. The air hissed out of Doug's lungs. He doubled over, and at that moment Kate, with the same delight in his eyes, landed a second blow — a short, hard uppercut to the same spot, right into the unhealed cracked ribs.
Doug dropped to his knees, his chest crushed in a vice. He could only silently gasp with his twisted mouth, the air refusing to go in, escaping back out with a wheeze. Tears of pain rolled down his cheeks.
At that moment, the door opened. In the doorway, lit by the corridor light, stood Shiruko. His cold gaze swept over Doug's hunched figure, then darted to Kate.
— What's going on here? — the Observer asked with frightening indifference.
Kate spread his hands:
— Alky. Been shitfaced since morning. Can't even stand.
Shiruko pulled a flat pill case from his pocket. He pressed a sobriety pill into the assistant's sweaty, trembling palm and advised:
— Get yourself together. — Turning to Kate, he announced: — Call a general assembly. We have a mission.
Turning, the Observer left, leaving the door open. Kate leaned down to Doug's ear, who had finally managed his first hoarse, agonizing breath.
— Hear that? A mission, — he whispered in a sweet, venomous whisper. — Pull yourself together. I'm waiting.
He straightened up and, whistling some cheerful little tune, walked out after Shiruko, leaving Doug writhing in pain and helpless hatred on the cold floor.
When Doug finally recovered enough to crawl to the bridge, Shiruko was already in the middle of reading the order aloud, trying to ignore the stench of burnt wiring and ozone from the ventilation system.
MISSION: Colony Inspection
Planet KP-216 (codename: "Gromuar")
Reason for inspection:
Suspected mutiny. Vorlock Observers have failed to establish contact.
Communication with the colony has been lost.
Orders: Determine the cause of communication loss and ascertain the location of the Observers. In the event of mutiny, conduct explanatory measures with the colony leadership. If they refuse to cooperate — full liquidation of the colony. Inspect the weapons depot, conduct inventory, and report any losses, if applicable.
Flor perked up. He glanced at Vice, who was listening to Shiruko with exaggerated attention. Then the pilot's eyes drifted to Doug, noted his battered, disheveled state in passing, and returned to Vice. Only a shadow of regret flickered deep in his pupils — no sympathy or support could be expressed beyond that.
Kate, lounging in a chair with threadbare upholstery, listened to Shiruko's speech with great attention, though his eyes wandered lazily along the greasy walls, occasionally landing on the crew members. At the word "depot," the captain perked up noticeably. He even pulled the fingernail he'd been picking between his teeth out of his mouth.
— Is that so? — he muttered thoughtfully. — A weapons depot attached to the colony…
— Standard procedure. The Corporation is required to leave a depot for cleanup squads. Just in case, — Shiruko explained calmly, tracing his finger with disgust along the dusty navigation panel and watching the dark trail it left behind. — Often the colonists don't even know the depot exists.
— My liver's telling me that depot will be stripped clean by the time the investigation teams arrive, — the captain announced, grinning predatorily. — Flor?
Flor straightened up like a board, awaiting the order. Vice leaned back, and in his eyes Doug could clearly read a greedy interest: "A depot and no Observers. Could it get any better? Just so long as there's no ambush."
— Run a full scan. The depot first and foremost. Then scout the colonists' positions — where they are and what they're doing. Oh, and go look for those Observers. Bet they're just lying around in some basement somewhere.
Flor, the scar on his chin still not fully healed, activated the scanner screen. His eyes swept over the display, snagged on red markers, and the pilot began his report:
— Vorlock bodies in the basement of the admin building — no signs of life. Same building — several humans. Either security or colony administration. The rest are in the underground shelter. Convenient. All in one place.
— The depot? — Kate asked impatiently.
— Depot's sealed. Seal's intact, — Flor reported, exhaling.
Too much time wasted switching scanner modes. Through the neural thread via implant, it would have been instantaneous — and the captain wouldn't be breathing down his neck.
— An untouched depot! — Vice beamed. — Like a birthday present.
— Perfect. So we go down. Land and sweep, — the captain laid out his plan. — Everyone goes. Except Shiruko. He's still too small. Might get scared of what he sees and file an inaccurate report.
Shiruko smiled, giving his brother an almost imperceptible nod.
— Captain, protocol requires negotiations before a sweep. You should at least ask the colonists — "How's the weather?"
— And why would I need to know what the weather's like down there? — Kate shot back.
— Because protocol requires negotiations, — Doug piped up.
Kate narrowed his eyes:
— What was that you just yelped?
— Yelped that your plan is fucking garbage. I'm not going to execute innocent workers.
For a split second, genuine astonishment flickered in Flor's eyes — Doug dared to talk back? But he immediately extinguished it, staring at the floor. Vice, on the other hand, froze, staring Kate straight in the eyes, but his tense back betrayed what he was afraid to even think — approval. The captain noticed the failed rebellion instantly and moved on to a public execution.
— You don't have to cut them, — Kate agreed with remarkable calm. — Take a plasma cannon. That'll be even more fun.
— I'm not an executioner, — Doug declared, utterly exhausted after two weeks of hell sharing a ship with Shiruko and Kate.
— Then who are you? — Kate asked, almost gently.
Shiruko tilted his head slightly, watching his assistant's agony with savage pleasure. Doug was on the edge. One more joke, one more glance — and he'd break completely. And he did:
— Safety Inspector!
— Police rat? — Kate paused for a split second. His eyes met Shiruko's and sparkled with amusement, as if he'd read his brother's mind. — Well then. Flor, Vice, go down. Flank the admin building and bring out... someone plump. Alive. Doug — you'll handle the negotiations. You do know how to negotiate, don't you?
With these words, Kate glanced down at Doug's steel-toed boots — the same ones that had left marks on his ribs not so long ago.
Having received the order, the eliminators vanished, leaving the brothers alone with the assistant. Lounging in his chair, Kate drummed his fingers on the panel, staring point-blank at the pale inspector.
When Doug couldn't take it anymore and dropped his gaze, Kate grunted with satisfaction.
— The ship doesn't have a negotiation room, — Shiruko suddenly announced.
Kate turned his face toward him, and Doug, to his horror, saw the familiar glint of sadistic inspiration ignite in the captain's eyes.
— No negotiation room? — he repeated to his brother. — What are we supposed to do then? We can't hold negotiations on the bridge. What if the colonists decide to seize the ship? That won't do… — Kate pretended to think. — How about we use the mess hall?
Doug didn't protest, only shot a trapped look from Kate to Shiruko, as if trying to guess what fresh torment awaited him.
— Excellent idea, — Shiruko backed his brother. — The mess hall even has tables. — Fixing his steel-grey eyes on Doug, he added sharply: — Pity the legs aren't bolted to the floor.
— No problem, — Kate waved it off. — The legs can be bolted. Doug can handle that in three minutes. Right?
Doug froze, understanding that he was being cornered with practiced ease and great pleasure.
— It's settled! — Kate jumped to his feet. — Everyone follow me. Let's at least make this tub look halfway decent.
Kate started for the door, but not hearing footsteps behind him, stopped and slowly turned around. His face expressed exaggerated, almost clownish surprise.
— Doug? — he paused, and the word hung in the air. — Just look at this. The Captain. Personally. In the flesh. Decided to help his assistant set up his workplace. Showed some care. And the assistant… — his voice turned abruptly harsh: — The assistant considers it beneath his dignity to carry out an order? Or do you have more important things to do than follow the captain's orders?
Shiruko watched in silence, and approving rage washed through his eyes. That was what finally broke Doug. He understood that even if Kate slit his throat right now, Special Division would receive a report about an accident involving the captain's assistant. If any report was sent at all.
The former inspector's shoulders slumped, and he silently moved forward, following the captain. Under the heavy gazes of the brothers, Doug pulled a toolbox from the storage locker and trudged to the mess hall.
— Get to work, you animal, — Kate commanded in a trembling voice. — I'll watch to make sure it's done right.
The clang of metal and the unpleasant screech of drilling filled the mess hall. Doug, on his knees, bolted the table to the floor, feeling Kate's heavy, mocking gaze on him from the doorway.
— Yes, yes, that's it… Add another screw, — Kate commented, never taking his eyes off the entertaining spectacle. — We wouldn't want anyone to think they can get out of negotiations. Right, little bro?
Shiruko, standing behind Kate's shoulder, nodded in silence.
— Captain, we're in position, — Flor's voice came over the comm.
— Good. Pick someone important and bring them up, — Kate commanded, not taking his eyes off Doug's kneeling figure.
While Doug was fumbling with the last screw, the mess hall door opened and Flor shoved a tall, stocky man in a work jumpsuit into the room.
A human.
Kate went rigid in an instant, taking almost imperceptible step back, but he immediately pulled himself together, stretching the corners of his lips wide:
— Excellent, — he commented, baring his teeth. — You made it just in time for the negotiations.
Doug leaned on the tabletop to get up, and at that moment Kate sharply bent down. Doug felt his cold hand on his wrist and a yank. In the dead silence, two soft clicks rang out. Doug jerked and immediately realized — that worm had cuffed him to the table leg!
— Are you out of your fucking mind?! What the fuck are you doing?! — Doug screamed, losing all survival instinct.
Shiruko laughed openly.
Flor and Vice froze with blank, unreadable faces.
— Don't waste time. Start your negotiations. Go on. Ask him, "Has it rained today?" — Shiruko suggested, having laughed his fill.
— Don't say a word, — Doug warned the captive human.
But the man, not grasping the meaning of the advice, began to tremble violently.
— Start the negotiations! — Kate ordered, looming over Doug on his knees.
— Go fuck yourself!
Kate kicked his assistant in the liver with his boot. Doug barely held back a howl.
— Negotiations!
— Find yourself another stooge! — Doug barked, losing his composure. — You think I'm going to ask the colonists what they want? You want to use my hands…
But then the captive butted in:
— We want new safety protocols in the mines and the production quotas cut in half, — he declared.
Dead silence fell. All eyes simultaneously bore into him.
Kate slowly turned to the captive and inhaled the sickly-sweet, cloying human stench.
— That's your demand?
— Yes, — the man nodded, trying to look confident.
Kate's movement was so fast that even the Vorlocks' eyes couldn't track it. A flash of steel — and the blade sank into the captive's throat with a wet squelch. The man let out a gurgling sound, his eyes widening in incomprehension.
Kate yanked the knife out, and crimson blood gushed from the mangled wound, flooding everything around and spreading its sweet-coppery scent.
Vice swallowed convulsively. He'd never seen such twists in protocol events, even with Shiruko.
Kate, without blinking, turned to Shiruko, calmly wiping the blade on his pants leg.
— Make a note in the report. Negotiations under the leadership of Douglas Greenwood, the captain's assistant, reached a dead end. Had to initiate the sweep.
Shifting his gaze to Doug, Kate hid the knife and drew his pistol.
— I knew you wouldn't let me down, — Kate declared. — Great negotiations. Well done.
Doug nervously swallowed thick saliva and braced for death. A shot rang out. His chained arm was yanked back. The cuff chain shattered, burning his wrist. A plasma cutter flew toward Doug right after the bullet. He barely managed to catch the weapon with his freed hand.
— Everyone to arms. We liquidate the colony, then we hit the depot, — Kate commanded and headed for the airlock first.
Flor and Vice exchanged brief glances and, letting Doug go ahead, silently followed.
4
The four eliminators froze at the entrance to the admin building. The door was heavily barricaded from the inside — metal tables, overturned cabinets, and equipment crates piled high.
— Already had time to get ready, the fuckers, — Flor muttered sourly, sizing up the scale of the work done.
— And you thought they'd just sit around waiting for a second date after your visit? — Vice grinned, fixing a bayonet to his cutter.
He unclipped a compact shaped charge from his belt and handed it to Flor.
Flor took the device without a word, moved forward, and deftly magnetized it to the door seam, right opposite the metal table. Just as quickly and smoothly, he fell back and ordered:
— Cover. This is gonna be loud.
The charge worked perfectly. The directed blast hurled the piled furniture into the foyer, opening up a black maw of an entrance.
The smoke hadn't even cleared yet when the Vorlocks' keen ears caught rapid footsteps retreating deeper into the building.
— Running to set the table, I guess. Humans are always so hospitable, — Kate raised his hand, signaling the team to follow.
Flor entered first, sliding like a shadow along the wall. He caught two fleeing figures at the end of the corridor and fired two single shots from his cutter. The fleeing figures froze simultaneously, threw their arms out, and dropped like sacks.
Only a faint wisp of smoke rose from the bodies.
Silence fell again. Kate listened intently into the darkness, thickened by human fear.
— Vice, left corridor. Doug, right. Relax, I'll watch your back, — he encouraged the former inspector, prodding him forward with the barrel.
Doug, gripping his cutter in sweaty palms, moved in the indicated direction. Behind him, stepping soundlessly, Kate followed.
Doug kicked the half-destroyed door open with his boot and unexpectedly burst into a small hall — probably a former cafeteria or break room.
He looked around and froze.
The hall was full.
About fifteen people, in corporate security uniforms, with homemade shields and old but lethal impulse rifles.
Waiting.
— Fire! — someone shouted.
And everything exploded.
The air filled with the howl of energy discharges and lead shot bouncing off the walls. Doug barely had time to dive behind a concrete pillar, dragging Kate with him. Pressed against the concrete, they fired bursts in return. After ten seconds, their throats were raw from smoke and fumes. A stray bullet ricocheted off Kate's cutter with a sharp clang — the weapon jammed. Cursing under his breath, he reached for his spare rig.
And then Doug caught a flicker of motion out of the corner of his eye. One of the guards — tenacious and agile — had somehow climbed the ventilation ducts and was now crawling along the wall right above Kate's head, aiming at the back of his skull.
— Kate, above! — Doug shouted, without thinking.
Kate spun around sharply, his left hand reaching for the new rig, his right instinctively raising his useless, jammed weapon. He squeezed the trigger. Only a dry, useless click. Pure, animal incomprehension flashed in his eyes, mingled with a furious awareness of his own vulnerability.
Doug lunged forward, slammed his shoulder into Kate, knocking him off balance, and sprang upward like a coiled spring to meet the falling guard. An army knife jumped into his palm. A flash of steel — and the blade sank into the exposed throat.
Together they crashed to the floor, tangled in an inseparable knot. Warm blood — an unfamiliar, vivid red — gushed from the wound, flooding Doug's face, running into his mouth, filling it with a vile coppery taste.
Through the ringing in his ears, relief pounded — that white-haired beast was alive. Which meant Shiruko wouldn't skin him alive for his brother's death.
Finally, Flor and Vice appeared at the sound of the gunfire. While they mopped up the remaining resistance, Kate slowly got to his feet. He walked over to Doug, who was still clutching the bloodied knife in his hands, and looked him in the eyes.
No gratitude. Only rage and calm.
And then Kate punched him in the face. The blow was so brutal that Doug dropped to his knees. Blue blood spurted from his nose, mixing with the human red.
— That's for the past, — Kate hissed, his voice trembling with hatred.
He stood over him, silently watching Doug shake his head, trying to regain his balance. And then, suddenly, he extended his hand.
— And this — because you did your job, — Kate declared, his voice suddenly normal.
Doug looked into his eyes, unable to believe his ears.
The debt was settled? They were even?
They returned to the ship late in the evening. Even after the full sweep, Kate wouldn't calm down until he'd scraped the depot clean down to the last cartridge. The shuttle shuttled back and forth six times, hauling all the loot aboard. But even that didn't improve the captain's mood. Once on the bridge, Kate gave Shiruko a grim glance and grunted:
— Go squeal. Mission's complete. We cleared everything — the colony, and you know what else.
Shiruko nodded, his gaze fixed intently on his brother.
— You're not happy? — he asked quietly. — Or did something happen out there?
Kate's upper lip twitched, but he tried to hold back:
— Nothing happened.
— I can see it…
— Why do you keep sticking your nose into everything?! — Kate lost his temper and screamed. — Fucking hell! OSO rat!
Shiruko didn't bat an eye. He didn't even blink when Kate stormed out of the cabin, slamming the door. Only the fingers on his left hand twitched.
— Something happened, — he murmured, and decided to talk to Doug.
The captain's assistant was tinkering in the engine room. Soaked through, covered in machine oil, he was trying to work loose a frozen bolt near the reactor itself.
— What happened down there? — Shiruko asked bluntly.
Doug froze for a second, then went back to wrestling with the wrench as if nothing had happened.
— Lots of things, — Doug replied airily. — We shot about fifty people down there, half of them women. Then the depot…
— Cut the crap. Why's Kate so riled up?
Doug let out a dry chuckle:
— It's Kate. He's always riled up.
Shiruko's teeth ground together.
— Either you tell me everything right now, or…
— Or what? — Doug finally set down the wrench and stared at the boy.
Shiruko's usually impassive face was twisted with confusion and bewilderment. From the proximity to the reactor and the heat, his cheeks had turned blue, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.
— How old are you? — Doug asked unexpectedly.
— Seventeen, — Shiruko answered, thoroughly confused.
— And Kate?
— Eighteen.
— There you go. So grown up, and you still don't understand that sometimes Vorlocks just have a bad mood.
Shiruko's jaw twitched. The blue on his cheeks deepened. He realized Doug was just mocking him. But why? Why wasn't Kate giving him shit as usual? Why had he gone and locked himself in his cabin?
Realizing he wouldn't get anything out of Doug, Shiruko darted out of the sweltering engine room.
Doug just grunted, perfectly aware that his position on the ship was more than fragile. Kate had lost his toy, the one that gave him pleasure, and now he needed something to latch onto. And Doug desperately didn't want to find himself back in the captain's crosshairs. His only hope was that Shiruko, with his relentless digging for the truth, would push Kate over the edge — and Kate would sink his teeth into his precious little brother instead.
The next morning, the strangeness continued. The moment Shiruko appeared in the mess, Kate immediately fixed his grey peepers on him.
— You're late, — the captain stated, glancing at the clock. — By nine minutes and forty-three seconds. Do words like discipline and schedule mean nothing to you?
Shiruko glanced at the crew. Everyone sat with their noses buried in their plates, as if trying to find a pirate's buried treasure there.
He headed for the serving line, but Kate caught him again:
— Briefing in four minutes. I want everyone on the bridge. Especially you, little bro. Because what would it be without you sticking your long nose into my business? Right?
With these words, tossing aside his empty plate, Kate walked out.
After enduring forty minutes of briefing hell, Shiruko decided to approach the problem from another angle. He picked the locked door and slipped inside soundlessly. The door clicked shut behind him. Flor, sprawled on his bunk, jolted up in fright.
— How did you get in? The door was locked.
— It still is, — Shiruko reassured him. — Something's about to happen here. But no one should know about it. You understand me?
Flor's eyes bulged in terror. Something was about to happen? Knowing Shiruko, he assumed the worst — interrogation, torture, execution.
"Neural implants!" flashed through his mind. "Neural implants can protect against pain and fear! Only they cost a fucking fortune…"
— I need you to answer my questions quickly and honestly. Did Kate take part in the liquidation yesterday?
— You bet. Right in the front lines, — Flor snorted.
— And?
— And what?
— Did he... enjoy it? Did he get off on it?
Flor stared at Shiruko in bewilderment. Had the Observer completely lost his mind?
— Kate worked clean, — Flor finally said. — Nineteen out of twenty shots hit their mark. At first he wanted to drop a nuke on the shelter, but then decided it might damage the building. The Corporation wouldn't pat him on the head for that. So we did it the old-fashioned way…
— Alright, never mind, — Shiruko cut him off. — And at the depot? Did you find anything... unusual?
— Unusual how?
— You know... that kind of thing. You understand?
— Shiruko, can you just tell me what the hell you're after?
— If I knew myself, — Shiruko snapped. — Fine. Not a word to anyone.
He left, leaving Flor utterly bewildered, with a firm conviction that something strange — and possibly dangerous — was happening on the ship.
— Alright, Kate, — Shiruko muttered once he was in the corridor. — Let's play bullfight. Whether you want it or not, I'm going to find out the truth.
The door to his brother's cabin was locked, and Shiruko didn't bother knocking. A few moves of his fingers and the lock clicked open.
— Did I call you? — Kate asked quietly, not surprised by his brother's visit, and grumbled: — Why do you always show up when I'm not expecting you?
— I need to talk.
— I don't, — the captain cut him off. — Get out.
— No.
— Stubborn bastard. You're pissing me off, — the white-haired one grumbled, studying Shiruko. — What are you after? Want me to twist your neck? I can. You know that. I'll rip your head off, and then you'll have to write in your report: "Captain Stanley lost control. His professional skills are in question."
— And how would I write that without a head?
— You'll write it. You're stubborn. Fine, what did you come for?
— You didn't complete the mission, — Shiruko declared, drilling his gaze into Kate.
— What? — Kate was surprised. — The mission's done. The sweep is complete. Have you completely lost your mind?
— You brought some kind of problem back. That means you didn't complete the mission.
— Oh, that's what you mean… — Kate relaxed and even leaned back in his chair, not taking his eyes off his brother. — Here's the thing. I completed the mission. No problem made it onto the ship. The problem was already on the ship — you.
Kate suddenly leaned forward, making Shiruko instinctively recoil, pressing his back against the wall.
— Stop trailing me and spying on me.
— What the hell happened?! — Shiruko didn't back down. — Tell me.
His persistence and impenetrable childish stubbornness finally softened Kate. He laughed.
— Fine. You asked for it. See, down there, on the mission, Doug saved me. And I closed his debt. Now I'm bored.
Kate fell silent. Shiruko was also thinking about something, his eyes darting restlessly around the cabin's furniture.
— Remember this, Shiruko. You should never go on a mission with someone who can save you. It can only lead to trouble, — Kate suddenly proclaimed with mock wisdom.
— But couldn't you just keep going with Doug?
Kate's brows drew together in angry bewilderment:
— I settled his debt. What's the point of continuing now?
— Well… fine. Then pick someone else who pisses you off, — Shiruko pressed on, perfectly aware that Kate could easily tell everything to go to hell if he got bored.
Kate tilted his head.
— Shiruko. You. Piss me off.
— Well there you go, — the brother rose from his chair, satisfied with the result. — Just remember, I'm not Doug. It won't be easy with me.
With these words, Shiruko vanished from the captain's cabin.
— That's for sure, — Kate sighed. — It won't be easy with you.
5
On the eighth day, something terrible happened. It all started with the most ordinary breakfast in the mess hall. Doug, Flor, and Vice, having piled double rations onto their plates, sat in the corner to stay out of the captain's way — he'd shown up for his meal in an obviously foul mood.
Instead of his usual eggs and fried bacon, Kate for some reason took the hated oatmeal and had been poking at the cold, viscous mass with his spoon for the last five minutes.
Shiruko, who always advocated for practicality, without reading the room, approved his choice:
— Great breakfast. Just what your bowels need in the morning.
— And what my bowels could also use is a strong coffee, — Kate finally gave up, pushing the untouched porridge aside.
He walked over to the serving station and started fiddling with the coffee machine. Doug, shoveling spoonful after spoonful into his mouth, suddenly noticed that Kate was taking way too long with a cup of plain black coffee.
— Well, shit! — the captain exclaimed loudly.
Doug froze, his heart stopping.
Kate turned his pale face to the crew and asked in a terrible voice:
— Who took my mug?
Flor's spoon clattered to the floor. Vice nearly choked. Shiruko looked up in surprise and repeated:
— Your mug? I'd like to see the lunatic who'd dare take it.
— The mug is gone, — Kate stated.
Shiruko didn't believe him. He stood up, walked over to the serving station, and personally verified that the captain's favorite mug was not on the tray.
— Maybe it rolled somewhere… — Shiruko leaned over the counter and peered under the wall. — Strange…
— Looks like we've got a rat on board, — the captain stated, but immediately corrected himself, glancing at his brother: — Though, come to think of it, there've always been plenty of rats around here. There's a thief on this ship!
Dead silence hung in the air. The crew's hearts even skipped a beat under Kate's furious gaze.
— What the hell are you talking about? — Shiruko protested weakly. — Who would want your mug?
— Then where is it?
— Look properly. Maybe you dragged it to your cabin and forgot it there.
— Look in the cabin, you say? — Kate grabbed Shiruko by the sleeve and dragged him along, promising on the way: — We'll go look together, just the two of us.
Throwing the door open, Kate shoved his brother inside:
— Well? Where did I forget it?
Shiruko's gaze swept over the room and he winced. The place was a complete shithole: bottles, dirty clothes, instrument parts, half-eaten sandwiches from a week ago, and as the crowning glory of this chaos — dirty boots on the table, pinning down a folder of papers.
— We need to search the whole ship, — Shiruko suggested after a brief pause. — You probably left it either in the airlock or in the engine room. You love wandering around with coffee and getting on everyone's nerves.
— Since you're so smart and know everything, then find my mug, — Kate ordered.
— Are you out of your mind? — Shiruko still hadn't realized Kate was dead serious. — I don't have anything better to do than look for your stinking mug?
— Are you going to look for it or not?
— No!
— Why?
Kate sounded so genuinely surprised that Shiruko, who was about to tell him to go to hell, simply answered:
— I don't want to.
— You don't want to, or you can't? — Kate immediately latched onto his words.
— Are you out of your fucking mind? You seriously think I, a Captain Second Rank, am going to crawl around this rusty tub looking for your mug?
— So you can't, then? — Kate stared at Shiruko, not hiding his contemptuous smile.
Shiruko snarled.
— Can't? If I wanted to, that mug would be on your table in two minutes.
— We've been talking for eight minutes now, and I don't see the mug on my table.
— If I bring you your goddamn mug within half an hour, you…
— Oh, — Kate continued to grin without stopping his mockery. — Now you need half an hour? Fine. Look. I'll wait until evening. If you don't find it, you're cleaning the valves for a month. Deal?
Shiruko only hissed in response and shot off toward the engine room.
— Yes, — Kate shouted after him. — If I were you, I'd interrogate the crew. You should've seen how they always stared at my mug…
It took Shiruko twenty minutes to check the engine room. He even looked into the nuclear reactor, nearly losing his only living eye. No mug. Then the Observer walked through the bridge, checked the greenhouse, and finally rustled through the airlock. No mug. In desperation, Shiruko barged into the shower room — what if that idiot decided to take a shower with his coffee? But there was no mug.
However, Shiruko did run into Flor there. Under the streams of water, the pilot was trying to wash off his perpetual stress and his obsessive desire to dissolve into the ship's neural network so no one could ever drag him out again. Tilting his head, Shiruko stared at the pilot with a half-crazed look.
— Flor?
The kid flinched, terrified that Shiruko had somehow read his thoughts.
— You like coffee, don't you?
— So what? — Flor felt beads of sweat rolling down his freshly washed back and immediately tried to weasel out: — I never liked his mug. I'm not crazy enough to drink out of it. No thanks, I don't want to catch rabies.
Shiruko didn't answer, trying to drill the truth out of Flor with his crazed stare.
— I swear… — Flor muttered helplessly.
— Follow me, — Shiruko ordered curtly, dashing out of the shower.
Flor shuffled after him, feeling a lump of fear growing in his throat.
Vice was still in the mess hall — trying to finish a piece of boiled meat — when Shiruko burst in with Flor.
— Vice, grab him! — Shiruko commanded, pointing at the pilot. — Grab him!
Vice nearly choked. He'd mistakenly thought the storm had passed, but it turned out it hadn't even started. Shrugging apologetically, Vice twisted Flor's arm behind his back.
— Shiruko! I swear I didn't take the mug! — the pilot screamed.
Vice's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. Was this idiotic mug saga still going on?
— Shut up. — Shiruko wasn't listening. — Vice, hit him! Start with the gut.
— Sorry about this, — Vice muttered briefly and punched the pilot in the gut.
Flor doubled over, gasping and spraying saliva on the floor.
— The mug?
— I… didn't… take it! — Flor repeated with difficulty.
— Don't want to confess? Vice! Again.
Another punch sent Flor to his knees.
— I swear… I… didn't take it…
The next punch landed on his face.
— Again, — Shiruko commanded impassively, closely watching Flor's expression.
Finally, he raised his hand:
— Stop.
Vice immediately stepped back. Shiruko nudged Flor with his boot toe:
— Get up. Now it's your turn.
Flor looked up at the kid with uncomprehending eyes. Shiruko pointed at Vice:
— Get to work.
— Shiruko? What the fuck?! What do I have to do with this? — Vice yelped, pressing himself against the wall — and immediately took a blow to the gut.
Minutes of a new rough interrogation dragged on. Despite Flor's efforts, he couldn't get a confession out of Vice.
Shiruko signaled to stop the beating. His gaze shifted thoughtfully from Flor to Vice and back.
— I don't get it, are you in cahoots or something? — the Observer muttered, and his eyes narrowed into slits. — Are you colluding?
Vice didn't even see it — he felt the gun appear in Shiruko's hand. He grabbed Flor by the scruff and ducked down, overturning the table.
— What the hell's going on here? — Doug appeared in the doorway.
One look was enough to understand that the younger brother had finally lost his mind. Doug lunged forward, wrapping his arms around Shiruko's shoulders and taking him down. They crashed to the floor, and it took Doug a couple of seconds to lock his arm and wrench the gun out of Shiruko's hands.
— What the fuck are you doing, you puppy?
— Looking for the captain's mug, — Vice said grimly, getting to his feet.
— With a gun in his hands?
Flor just threw his hands up.
— Right, — Doug shifted his gaze to Shiruko, who was sullenly rubbing his wrist. — You'll continue your search in your own cabin. Until you calm down.
He grabbed the Observer by the collar and yanked him up.
— You! Let go! That's an order!
Doug suddenly bent down, bringing his face level with the kid's, and said with a grin:
— You don't give me orders. I'm the captain's personal assistant.
Shiruko turned white.
Meanwhile, Doug dragged Shiruko by the collar to his cabin and locked him in from the outside.
— Cool off, — he wished him in parting.
Locked in, Shiruko thrashed around like a caged animal for several minutes. He smashed the terminal, tore out the wiring with his bare hands. He started hammering on the life support system but ran out of steam halfway through. The rage suddenly gave way to a fit of apathy.
He flopped onto the bed, feeling the tremor of helplessness run through his entire body. With a quiet groan, he fell backward — and immediately bumped the back of his head against something hard under the sheet.
— Aaaaagh, — he hissed, and shoved his hand under the sheet.
A mug?!
That very same fucking mug, with a piece of paper inside. Shiruko automatically unfolded the note:
"Surprise, little bro!"
Shiruko's brain shut down for a second.
And then he screamed like all his insides had been ripped out at once. Within seconds, rapid footsteps raced down the corridor, and Doug burst into the cabin with his gun drawn.
— Alive? — the assistant's eyes instantly scanned the cabin for danger, and only then returned to the Observer, pale as a sheet of paper, with the mug in his hands. — Ahhh… Found it? Good job.
He stuck his head into the corridor and shouted:
— Vice! Flor! Stand down! The kid found the captain's mug!
For Shiruko, those words were the last straw. He leapt off the bed, shoved Doug aside, and shot toward the captain's cabin.
He burst in without knocking. Kate was sitting at the table, cleaning his nails with some kind of surgical hook.
— Choke on your fucking mug! — Shiruko screamed and hurled the mug straight at his brother's head with all his strength.
Kate didn't even look up. He just caught the flying object with two fingers.
— Found it after all? — he asked calmly, setting down the tool. — Good job. You know why you found it?
Shiruko exhaled, clenching his fists.
— Because you're irresponsible, — Kate continued with feigned sadness. — Decided to crash in bed while your captain was left without his mug. Not good.
Shiruko hissed.
— Alright, alright, — Kate waved his hand, as if doing him a favor. — I know you tried.
He pulled up a hologram from his wrist comm — featuring Shiruko in the starring role as the investigator in the case of the missing mug.
Shiruko finally and irrevocably lost his mind. Quietly, without a sound, he launched himself at his brother.
He attacked like a wild animal, trying to sink his teeth into his throat.
Kate recoiled, but didn't manage to throw him off completely. Instead of the throat, Shiruko's teeth crunched into Kate's shoulder — which Kate had instinctively put up. Kate didn't even flinch when Shiruko's teeth scraped against the bone. He just froze strangely, staring at his brother, who was locked onto his arm.
— Well, well, — Kate whispered quietly, looking into Shiruko's crazed eyes. — And I was afraid it'd be boring with you.
6
In the night after the terrible mug incident, Vice was trying to recover from the horror with a bottle of moonshine he'd begged off Doug. The rotgut of the lowest grade didn't help. It just gave him a headache.
— Maybe I should wash it down with beer, — he decided suddenly, and was already getting up to go see Flor when the door to his cabin burst open and Shiruko appeared in the doorway.
Vice's heart instantly clenched and dropped somewhere deep into his gut. Shiruko stood in the doorway, not taking a step inside, perfectly calm — as if it wasn't him who'd been running through the ship a few hours ago with crazed eyes, attacking anything that moved.
— Vice, — the Observer said quietly and smoothly. — I apologize for what happened today.
A wave of terror rose from the depths of his stomach and slammed into Vice's brain. Shiruko was apologizing? Shiruko Stanley had come to beg forgiveness? That could only mean one thing — Vice's goose was cooked. Barely hiding the tremor that ran through his entire body, Vice frantically tried to figure out how to weasel out of this situation.
Shiruko, meanwhile, was silent, watching the evolution of the sergeant's skin tone from blue-gray to deep blue and then to deathly pale.
— What are you talking about? — Vice finally rasped. — The loyalty test? Of course, I understood it was a test.
Shiruko still said nothing. Vice tried to understand what else this psycho needed, and finally figured it out.
— Good thing you found the mug. I was in the engine room at the time, didn't see anything, — Vice declared, putting sincere pleading into the word "anything" and hoping with all his heart that Shiruko would notice. — Only heard Doug yell that it was found. A real weight off my shoulders. Kate would have killed us all over his goddamn mug.
Shiruko's impassive face didn't twitch, but Vice felt with his skin that the tension had eased. He'd gotten out of it.
— Glad to be of help, — the kid finally said, taking a step back and removing his foot from the doorstep.
Vice was about to exhale with relief. But Shiruko suddenly stopped.
— By the way, about those bales you smuggled through the border when you worked as a customs officer. You know there were implants in there, right? Excellent pieces of kit. I cross-referenced their serial numbers in the database. Class-A devices. Expensive stuff.
Vice's eyes flew wide open. For stealing or being an accessory to the theft of Class-A implants, you could get five years of hard labor.
Shiruko smiled benignly:
— Don't worry. I rustled through the registry. Now they'll be listed as written off due to technical malfunction. Don't give it another thought.
With these words, Shiruko removed his foot, allowing the door to close.
Vice slowly sank onto his bunk. The adrenaline tremor was replaced by cold, nauseating dread. And his keen ears caught a conversation in the corridor.
— Flor, — Shiruko crooned sweetly. — How are things? Everything good? By the way, I wanted to apologize…
The next morning began with a hellish "cleaning" that Kate had suddenly decided to organize, forcing the crew to lick every corner, every valve, every bolt. By evening, the captain was finally satisfied and released the crew for shore leave. And Vice couldn't think of anything better than to get drunk again. This time at the port bar.
Vice downed five "Blue Blood" cocktails with liquid nitrogen and was about to order a beer when he got a heavy slap on the back. His psyche, already frayed from the search for the captain's mug, kicked in. Vice lurched forward, spinning around while simultaneously drawing his weapon.
The shocker pressed into the chest of a patron, who paid it no attention, pushing the barrel aside with his finger and announcing to the entire bar:
— Vice, holy shit. Vice-Snotnose? Is that you? I thought I was mistaken when I saw you in that uniform. What, did they kick you out of the assault troops?
Sergeant Gary, his old classmate, plopped down next to Vice and ordered a double vodka. Grabbing the glass, he tipped it down his throat, grunted approvingly, and signaled for another. After the second glass, Gary decided it was Vice's turn.
— Well? — he turned to his old acquaintance with a grin. — What's with the uniform? No way you volunteered to become an executioner. Did they exile you to the eliminators for some sins?
Vice said nothing. His only desire was to leave the bar. But leaving now meant admitting total defeat to this moron, who hadn't changed one bit since training.
And Gary just kept going.
— Remember second year? — he raised his voice so even the farthest tables could hear. — At the exercises, you ricocheted a grenade launcher right into your own platoon! The instructor screamed that you'd never be a real soldier! And what? Turns out he was right?
Vice wanted to sink through the floor from all the stares fixed on him. And Gary continued:
— Remember the kitchen? Saw the cook recently. He mentioned you. Said nobody peeled potatoes better than Vice. True that. You must have gotten good at it, on kitchen duty every week. Right?
Vice heard a snicker from the far table.
— And the parachute jumps? Ahahaha, remember when you jumped hungover and forgot to put your chute on? I had to jump after you and catch you in midair. You puked all over me from fear. Ahahaha.
Laughter erupted through the room.
Vice felt his cheeks turning blue. He was about to tell Gary to go fuck himself when suddenly it got quiet. The patrons, who a second ago were all grins, suddenly buried their faces in their plates and started poking at their fried potatoes with exaggerated interest.
Even Gary went pale and, grabbing his glass convulsively, fixed his eyes on the wall in front of him.
— Sergeant Vice, — Vice heard a familiar quiet voice behind him.
Vice turned around. Behind him stood Shiruko Stanley in full regalia of a Captain Second Rank of the Special Division Security Service.
Vice slid off his stool and snapped to attention.
— Sergeant. Back to the ship. Conduct a full inventory of the ammunition. Complete. I didn't like the statistics from the last three missions.
— Yes, sir, — Vice said with relief and left the bar, heading for the spaceport.
For the fifth hour, Vice was counting those goddamn ammo crates. He could probably have finished by now, but fear wouldn't let him. What if that psycho decided to check every single box? And Vice, with a sigh, opened another lid and started counting each cartridge individually.
— Came up with some inventory bullshit. Not for nothing. What's that psycho planning now? And against whom? Hopefully it's just another stunt against his brother. But what if he's gunning for me? — Vice muttered, constantly losing count.
His wrist comm vibrated. Vice flinched — Gary's number? What did he want? Hadn't he humiliated him enough at the bar?
— Vice? — he heard a terrified voice in his earpiece. — You? Listen. I just got picked up. By OSO. They're charging me with… I don't even know what. Dug up all my old cases, even a stolen bun from the school cafeteria. Closed cases too. Hinting they can reopen them. Even hit me with a jaywalking fine! The investigator just told me I'm facing ten years! Vice, you know him... Talk to him! Tell him I got it! I'll apologize! I'll do anything. I'll work it off. Or money? Whatever it takes!
Vice hung up. He nearly puked from sheer terror.
Go to Shiruko and ask him to go easy on Gary?
Ask Shiruko?
No!
For four hours, Vice shuffled crates with shaking hands, then filled out the form and sent the report to Shiruko. At dawn, his comm pinged. Vice, who'd just lain down on his bunk, jumped.
The Observer had summoned him.
Vice entered Shiruko's cabin and froze at the door. The kid was sitting at his desk, buried in the report, slowly flipping through holographic pages. He didn't even look up. Five minutes passed before Shiruko acknowledged Vice's presence.
Another three minutes, and he spoke:
— You forgot to enter the data on the training rounds, — the Observer stated. — See here?
With his finger, he flicked a table toward the eliminator, showing a blank entry.
— A box, ten by twelve, in the left corner of the fourth shelf. You forgot to include it in the inventory.
Vice sucked in air with a hiss.
— I…
— No harm done, — Shiruko smiled. — The important thing is we got it sorted.
Vice felt beads of sweat rolling down his spine.
— Yes, — he nodded. — Sorted.
— Go.
Vice hesitated, unsure if he was doing the right thing, but finally decided to speak:
— Gary… — he forced out, feeling like he was making a mistake. — He called me. Says he got it. Said he's ready to work it off. Money. Whatever it takes.
Not a single muscle twitched on the Observer's face.
— Gary? — he repeated the name slowly, as if tasting it. — Who's Gary? Never heard of him. And why would he want to work anything off?
A knife with a stacked handle suddenly appeared in Shiruko's hands. That very same knife. And Vice forgot to breathe. He understood — Shiruko knew he'd seen everything back then.
The Observer slowly stood up and took a step forward. Vice recoiled from the kid, slamming his back into the steel bulkhead.
— Anything else, Sergeant? — Shiruko came right up to him and repeated, almost in a whisper: — Do you have something to say? Maybe you remember something? Something worth forgetting?
— Nothing… — Vice stammered.
— Good, — Shiruko stepped back and switched to a normal tone, smiling. — Shame you don't remember anything, of course. But I'm always around and always ready to help. You understand what I'm saying?
Vice nodded silently.
— That's what they call friendship, — Shiruko announced with a cheerful smile, but his eyes remained cold. — Friendship means nobody dares to touch my things. Understood? Go. Fix the report and don't think about Gary again. He's gone. And he never existed, as far as I'm concerned.
When Vice left, the smile slid off the Observer's face, leaving no trace. He shifted his gaze to the wall, behind which was Doug's cabin.
— And what about you? — he addressed Doug silently. — You think you're the captain's right hand? His trusted assistant? Soon you'll see how wrong you are — when Kate chews you up and spits you out for breakfast.
7
Kate, lounging in his chair, lazily spun from side to side, twirling in his fingers the surgical hook he'd adapted for cleaning his nails.
The crew sat on both sides.
At the far end of the table — Shiruko. He was reading out the next assignment, trying not to look at his brother. Or rather, not at his hands. Kate had recently taken to wearing short-sleeved T-shirts, proudly showing off his new battle scar to everyone.
— A rabid dog attacked me, — he announced proudly to anyone who'd listen. — Barely fought it off.
— Standard sweep. Colony KP-189. Special note: no negotiations. Population: 123 people.
Kate gave the order without even looking up.
— Flor, check the depot.
The pilot habitually activated the scanner:
— Depot is sealed. According to the last inventory, it's fully stocked.
The corner of Kate's mouth twitched into something like a smile:
— What good news.
— You'll do without good news today, — Shiruko said quietly but firmly, and his words hung in the air like thunderclouds.
Kate slowly raised his head.
Vice, as if by accident, shifted toward the wall, moving out of the line of fire. Doug felt for the pistol under his jacket cuff and unholstered it.
— Did I hear that right, or did you just yelp something? — the captain asked calmly, and Flor tucked his head into his shoulders.
— I said you'll do without the depot today, — Shiruko stated, straightening up.
— How interesting. Little brother gives the orders now? You probably think that just because you bit me, you're the captain now? That's not how it works, pal.
Not a single muscle twitched on the Observer's face.
— This will be the sixth mission in a row with a stripped depot, — Shiruko announced openly, for all to hear. — You think they're stupid at headquarters? Or are you hoping no one will notice the pattern?
— You're so smart, — Kate snorted. — What if it's just a string of coincidences? It just happens that way. What do we have to do with it?
— You'll push it too far, and a committee commission will show up to investigate your "coincidences." Is that what you're waiting for? — Shiruko challenged, staring into his brother's eyes.
Doug's fingers, now damp with sweat, tightened on the grip of his weapon.
Kate ground his teeth. Exhaling noisily, he finally said:
— Fine. You're right. Today we work without the depot.
The eliminators returned to the ship closer to night. Shiruko, meeting the team at the airlock, opened his eyes in surprise as a furious-as-hell Kate flew past, followed by a blue-with-rage Doug, and Flor and Vice, pale as sheets of paper.
Grabbing Flor by his combat harness, Shiruko asked:
— What happened?
— Happened…? — Flor could barely speak. — What happened! Kate went on a rampage down there. If it weren't for Doug, he'd still be smearing those colonists' guts all over the walls. Fucking psycho!
He then panicked at Shiruko's reaction and shut up. But the Observer was interested in something else.
— The depot?
— The depot wasn't touched, — Vice reported, struggling to peel off his armor.
— Flor, let's go. — Kate's voice came over the speakers. — Get to the bridge, now.
Flor went even paler and, without changing, bolted to carry out the order.
The next morning, before Kate had even managed to rub the sleep from his eyes after the bottle he'd downed alone the night before, his younger brother barged into his cabin without knocking.
Shiruko's face was twisted with rage:
— What the fuck did you strip that depot for? — he hissed, clenching his fists.
Kate sat up on the bunk, staring at Shiruko in surprise.
— What? I didn't touch the depot. We had a deal.
— Didn't touch it? — Shiruko's cheeks flushed blue. — I suppose the depot just broke into itself and emptied itself. Right?
He hurled a holographic data sheet into Kate's face — telemetry from the planet: the security seal was breached, the cells were empty.
Kate stared at the data with uncomprehending eyes:
— That wasn't me…
— Then who? Maybe someone came after us? Oh, I know! The locals. They gathered up their guts and went to strip the depot. That must be how it happened, right?
Kate exploded:
— I told you — not me! What do you want from me?! You OSO rat! Already squealed?
— Not you? — Shiruko flicked up a new document with his finger: — Only one 1+ DNA marker on the lock. Well?
Kate's eyes darted around, as if searching for an excuse.
— Yo... you have the same one!
— Are you saying I robbed the depot? By myself? While you were smearing guts on the walls, I was carrying out weapons? And what am I supposed to do with them? I suppose I have connections with the pirate brotherhood and fences. Right?
— I didn't touch the depot! — Kate protested, outraged at not being believed.
— I got a request, — Shiruko said, dropping into a chair. — The Committee is interested in the depot. Happy now? I'll have to squeal and request a commission for an investigation.
— Investigation of what? Nothing happened.
— If you'd answered the psychologist like that, we wouldn't have this problem now.
— Go to hell! — Kate exploded.
— I'm suspending you from your position as captain until the commission arrives, — Shiruko declared, looking Kate straight in the eye.
For one heartbeat, Kate stared at Shiruko, and then, with a barely perceptible movement, he lunged forward. The Observer shot toward the door faster than lightning. Kate threw himself after him but wasn't fast enough — Shiruko slipped out and braced the door with his body.
— Doug! — he screamed, his whole body shuddering from the impacts from inside.
The captain's assistant appeared out of nowhere and, silently leaning against the door next to Shiruko, screwed the locking mechanism into place.
— I'll kill you! — he heard a furious howl from behind the metal door and felt a chill between his shoulder blades. — You bastards! Just let me out!
— Yeah, right, — Doug muttered, glancing sideways at Shiruko. — Let you out. Sure.
— Good job, — Shiruko nodded, regaining his former composure. — Douglas Greenwood, — he raised his voice so Kate could hear him, Shiruko announced. — As Observer on this vessel, I am temporarily relieving Kaitlyn Stanley of his duties as captain due to his failure to perform his assigned functions, and I am appointing you as acting captain until the commission arrives.
A growl came from behind the door. Doug, looking back, went pale:
— Shiruko, do you want him to eat me alive when he gets out of there? I refuse.
— You refuse? — Shiruko calmly twitched his eye, opening a secure information channel. — Then get ready for a review of the smuggling case that got you demoted. There are plenty of unaccounted facts in there, right? Bribes, slave trading, fencing stolen goods.
— But I'm dead? — Doug whispered, paralyzed with fear.
— Imagine that — I can bring you back to life. Great, isn't it? — a mad smile touched the Observer's impassive mask. — So? Do you want to come back to life and die? Or stay dead? Choose.
Breaking out in a cold sweat, Doug forced out:
— Fine.
The corner of the Observer's mouth twitched into something like a smile.
— Follow me, — he commanded and proceeded to the bridge. — Flor, turn this tub around, — Shiruko ordered the pilot. — We're going back to KP-189.
Seeing Flor's bewildered look, Shiruko explained:
— Doug is now the captain. Temporarily. It's his order. Doug?
— Yes, — Doug forced out, confirming Shiruko's order. — We're going to KP-189.
Flor silently reprogrammed the autopilot.
— And what about Kate? — Vice asked cautiously.
— Temporarily incapacitated, — Shiruko explained without going into details.
For the first hour, Shiruko literally monitored the crew's every breath. But after a couple of hours, his tension eased. And after another three hours, Shiruko finally calmed down and locked himself in his cabin, announcing that he needed to prepare a report for the commission.
Doug, pretending to check the sensor readings, activated a hidden video channel to Kate's cabin.
The captain's face appeared on the screen. He was sitting on the bunk, calm and relaxed, picking at his teeth with a fingernail, as if he'd just finished dinner. Seeing Doug's sweaty face, Kate smiled at him like an old friend.
— Ah, my irreplaceable assistant. Too bad the same can't be said about me, right? You found a replacement for me quickly enough.
— Kate, I had no choice, — Doug began, lowering his voice to a whisper. — Don't you know your own brother? He's blackmailing me. Threatens to dig up old cases and bury me. You understand?
— I understand, — Kate nodded, smiling lazily and pulling his finger out of his mouth.
— I had nothing to do with it, you understand?
— Sure. I'm not stupid. I understand.
Doug felt like a snake on a hot skillet. Why was Kate agreeing so docilely to everything?
— Well? — Doug tried to read any emotion on the psycho's face. — I'm on your side. You understand that?
Kate nodded:
— If you're on my side — kill Shiruko.
Doug nearly jumped:
— Are you out of your mind?
— And you used to call me a worm, — Kate grinned, turning away from the screen.
— He's your brother, — Doug tried to appeal to family feelings.
— Yes, that's exactly why I'm here.
— Why "that's why"? What happened?
— What happened? Someone broke into the depot on the planet. Shiruko decided it was me.
— We were together the whole time.
— He found a 1+ DNA marker. Thinks it's mine.
Doug thought for a moment.
— Did he check the telemetry reports and the authenticity of the scans?
— We didn't have time to discuss that, — Kate replied. — Shiruko was in an awful hurry to leave. Right after he announced he was suspending me from my duties.
— Fine. I'll check everything.
— Check.
— Kate, if I prove you didn't strip the depot, you… — Doug hesitated, but finished the sentence: — You won't kill me?
At that moment, Shiruko, who was listening to the communication channel, couldn't suppress a smile.
And the exact same one bloomed on Kate's lips:
— Prove it, — he said simply. — And you'll be dead and buried.
Doug nodded and disconnected. Wiping the sweat from his forehead with his palm, Doug tried to figure out what to do next. He needed to somehow lure Shiruko out of his den and rustle through the documents. But how? The kid probably had everything under three levels of security.
— Fine, — Doug finally decided. — Where ours doesn't disappear, someone else's won't let us down either.
And with that stupid saying, he headed to the engine room.
Twenty minutes later, the ship's metal hull shook violently, and the silence was torn apart by a deafening siren. The lights went out, emergency lamps came on, but they flickered a couple of times and died too.
Shiruko, almost finished with his report, flinched in surprise.
— What now? A meteor? — he jumped to his feet and ran into the corridor.
Vice rushed past.
— What happened? — Shiruko shouted after him.
— Hell if I know. A meteor, probably! — Vice threw over his shoulder, turning toward the control room.
Shiruko slid after him.
As soon as the Observer's silhouette disappeared around the corner, heading for the bridge, a shadow slipped silently out of the ventilation shaft niche — Doug. He moved quickly and precisely: a few moves of a good old police "skeleton key" in front of the screen — and the data was downloaded. Another moment — and he'd vanished into the technical ventilation tunnel leading to the engine room.
Shiruko, meanwhile, was dealing with the emergency.
— What happened? — he asked Flor.
— A malfunction in the engine room, — the pilot reported. — Probably a short circuit. We veered off course by half a million bars.
— A short circuit? I'll check it. Correct the course, — Shiruko left the pilot and Vice to deal with navigation, and headed down.
When Shiruko entered the reactor room, the scorching air hit him in the face, with a bitter radioactive aftertaste. Doug, almost waist-deep under the main engine panel, was working with a mechanical wrench.
— What happened? — Shiruko asked almost in a whisper, and goosebumps ran down Doug's spine.
The acting captain turned around, straining with all his might to look relieved.
— The wiring shorted in the power conduit. Did you hear that bang? Good thing I was nearby and managed to clamp the wires. Otherwise we'd be floating in open space right now.
Shiruko slowly approached, his gaze sweeping over the instruments, the open panel, Doug's sweaty hands.
— Yes, — the Observer nodded. — How convenient that you happened to be nearby. We're all very lucky.
Doug just shrugged, trying to keep his shoulders from trembling.
— Lucky.
Shiruko fell silent, studying him, boring through him with his eyes like an X-ray.
— Fine, — he finally said. — Fix it. But remember, Greenwood, — he took a step forward, and Doug could have sworn it was Kate. — If you even think about helping him... I'll pull your soul out through your heels. I can do it. You understand me?
Doug nodded, straining with all his might to hold the Observer's half-crazed gaze.
— You know what Kate will do first when he gets out? — Shiruko asked him from the threshold. — He'll add a new debt to your tab. And this time — no right to pay it off.
The door closed behind him. Doug leaned against the cold metal of the engine and slid down, trembling with a fine tremor. After a few seconds, he pulled himself together, took out the "skeleton key," and attached it to his personal comm.
The screen lit up with data. Doug scrolled through several pages. His expression, as he studied the data, changed from horror to confusion, and then to disbelief. He couldn't believe his eyes. He reread it, just in case, but the meaning didn't change.
— That's impossible, — Doug still couldn't believe what he was seeing. — That's…
His thoughts were interrupted by a voice from the speaker:
— Greenwood, come in. The commission has arrived. Report to the bridge immediately.
— Who's the captain here? What's this "immediately" business? — Doug muttered, but Shiruko had already disconnected.
Clenching his fists, the temporary captain headed up. Shiruko was already waiting for him at the door. Before Doug could open his mouth, the Observer shoved a cutter into his hands and ordered:
— We're going for Kate. The commission is already in the mess hall. We're taking him there.
Kate seemed to have been waiting for them. He stood calmly. Dressed in his dress uniform, cap on his head. He hardly even smelled of alcohol.
— Captain, — Shiruko announced. — Follow us.
— Am I the captain? — Kate shot back. — The captain is currently behind you, shaking like an aspen leaf.
— Move! — Shiruko commanded, not engaging in the argument, jabbing the barrel of his pistol into Kate's forehead.
— What's this for? — the brother winced. — You know perfectly well that I can shove that pistol down your throat right now. I can.
— Shove it. The commission would find that very interesting.
— Fine, let's go. Let's see what kind of commission this is.
They moved down the corridor. Doug walked slightly behind, frantically running through options in his head. He tried to catch Kate's eye and warn him. But Kate wasn't looking at him. And behind Doug, like a shadow, Shiruko followed relentlessly, and Doug could feel — he was tracking not just every step, but every beat of his heart.
They reached the mess hall doors.
Shiruko threw the door open:
— Captain.
Kate straightened his shoulders and took a step forward. Doug froze on the threshold, realizing that his last chance to pass the crucial information to Kate was lost.
In the mess hall, transformed by Vice's efforts into a courtroom, the session of the "Small Three" had already begun. Kate was seated on a chair in the middle of the room, facing the judges — three Observers with impassive faces.
The senior commission member began the interrogation.
— Captain Stanley. List all missions under your command. For each, state: number of targets, method of liquidation, number of survivors.
Kate raised a lazy look at him:
— How should I remember? Check Shiruko's records. I'm sure everything's there.
— Try to remember, — the Observer countered indifferently. — Let's start with the last one. Colony KP-189.
— No survivors. No negotiations were held.
— Previous one. Base "Hephaestus."
— Same story. Boring.
He answered monosyllabically, evasively: "Don't know," "Don't remember those details," "Standard procedure," "Boring."
The commission patiently moved on, extracting information bit by bit. Then the tactic changed.
— Now list the missions during which weapons depots or other material assets were looted.
Kate smirked.
— Does that happen? Fancy that. Didn't know. The depots were usually already looted by the time we arrived.
— Usually?! — the junior commission member couldn't contain himself. His fingers nervously drummed on the table. Kate's gaze, which had been wandering somewhere on the ceiling, instantly focused on him, like a snake's gaze on a frozen mouse. He leaned forward with a solicitous question:
— Something wrong? Am I annoying you?
— The commission asks the questions. List the depots looted during missions. — The commission member tried to save face, but his lips trembled.
— And I'm answering. Don't know. Don't remember. Not in the know, — Kate enunciated each word, staring directly at him, and a mocking note crept into his voice.
The commission exchanged glances. The senior member nodded to Shiruko.
— Provide visual evidence for case KP-189.
Shiruko stepped forward, inserted a chip into the projector. A hologram appeared in the center of the table — a view of the devastated colony. While the three Observers, distracted, studied the footage, Doug, seizing the moment, frantically typed a message on his portable terminal and sent it to Kate's secure channel.
Kate's bracelet gave off a barely perceptible vibration. He glanced briefly at the screen hidden under his cuff. His eyes scanned the lines of data Doug had obtained — the depot looting and the DNA marker — a lie and a setup. Not a single muscle twitched on the captain's face. He looked up and stared directly at Shiruko, who was just finishing his report.
The interrogation resumed.
— So, Captain, you continue to assert that you have no connection to the theft of weapons from the…
— What stupid questions? I'm bored, — Kate interrupted him, leaning back in his chair. — Boring.
The nervous Observer couldn't take it anymore. He jumped up, slamming his palm on the table.
— Who do you think you are, talking to us like that, Stanley?
No real Observer would ever have lost his composure like that during a commission. And Kate exploited it in an instant.
He didn't answer the clown. Instead, he spun sharply toward Shiruko. His movement was so fast and unexpected that no one had time to react.
His hand clamped around his brother's throat with a steel grip. With a crash that made the dishes rattle on the shelves, he slammed Shiruko onto the tabletop. The Observer coughed, trying to breathe, his eyes widening in shock and fury.
Dead silence fell over the mess hall. The actors playing the Observers froze.
Kate leaned low over his brother's face:
— You thought I wouldn't figure it out?
He loosened his grip just enough for Shiruko to rasp in a breath of air.
— I'm not going to kill you, — Kate continued, and a grin of absolute, undisputed superiority played on his lips. — Because this... was fun. I admit it. One–one.
And at that moment, Doug, standing in the doorway, saw something that made him catch his breath. In Shiruko's eyes, still humiliatingly sprawled across the table, there wasn't a trace of fear. In his dark pupils, along with the shock of defeat, Doug saw fierce pride in his brother — for surpassing his expectations.
8
In the stinking room that was proudly called the bridge, Vice and Flor had switched to profanity. They'd been trying to correct the course for an hour now, but the ship kept drifting to the side for some reason.
— Goddamn corrections! — the pilot finally exploded. — Why the fuck does this bucket keep drifting right every time? And this goddamn helm! I've already got calluses on my calluses! Fuck! Why do I have to bust my ass here for days on end? I don't even have a relief pilot.
— Then go complain to the captain, — Vice suggested, wiping his forehead.
Flor shot his companion a frightened look:
— Have you lost your mind? "Complain to the captain"? I'd rather stick my head in a black hole.
— Then shut up and correct it.
— This could all be done automatically, — Flor muttered, glancing sideways at Vice. — You wouldn't even have to lift a finger.
— Really? — Vice perked up with interest. — And how are you going to correct the course without touching the helm? Read a magic spell? Wave a magic wand?
Flor pulled out a small, grime-stained case from under the control panel. Inside, on a frayed velvet lining, lay two implants that looked like silver slugs with protruding neural leads.
— Here. See this? — he showed Vice proudly. — Direct neural interface. Nerve-node implants. I traded for them on the Hermes from some faceless guy.
— I think I can guess why the guy didn't have a face… — Vice muttered, completely stunned. — And I don't want to guess what you need these things for.
— You're an idiot. These things get implanted in the forearm, connected to the peripheral nerves — and you become one with the ship.
Vice sucked in air sharply and tapped his forehead with a bent finger, clearly indicating what he thought of all this.
Instead of answering, Flor jumped up, crossed to the equipment locker in two steps, and dumped a "Junior Neurosurgeon" kit onto the table: a rusty scalpel, a curved probe for cleaning air filters, a frayed soldering iron, and a tube of bio-glue with a dried-out tip.
— You finished those medical courses, right? — Flor asked ingratiatingly.
— They were first-aid courses, — Vice was still trying to weasel out, but deep down he knew he was about to perform his first-ever surgery.
— Perfect! So you know how to hold a scalpel! You'll implant these right about here, — Flor pointed to a spot on his shoulder. — I think this is a great spot. Later I can get a couple more, for speed.
Vice sighed. He picked up the scalpel and tried to rub the rust off with his fingers — no use.
— And anesthesia? — he finally asked.
— Anesthesia is for pussies, — Flor answered grimly. — And for those with spare credits. There's vodka.
From the same "Junior Neurosurgeon" kit appeared a bottle with a poisonous yellow liquid inside.
— Is that vodka? — Vice decided to confirm.
— Almost.
— Fine, — Vice decided not to ask for details and downed half the bottle.
For a minute he sat with bulging eyes, unable to breathe, but finally, after successfully oxygenating his lungs, he passed the bottle to Flor, grabbed the scalpel, and announced: — Everyone buckle up!
Flor finished off the rest of the booze, strapped himself in so tight that something crunched suspiciously, and prepared for liftoff. Vice taped the pilot's wrists to the armrests, shoved a piece of plastic tubing into Flor's mouth, and the operation began.
Vice worked methodically and unhurriedly. He breathed on Flor for disinfection, wiped the patient's dirty elbow with a rag, and jabbed with the blade. The rusty scalpel cut through the skin, revealing subcutaneous tissue and muscle. Immediately it smelled like a butcher's shop. The filter probe delved into the muscle tissue; Vice pushed the instrument deeper, trying to locate the nerve node.
Flor silently writhed in the chair, biting down on the tubing. Tears streamed from his bulging eyes, mixing with drops of sweat.
Then it was the soldering iron's turn. With a hissing sound, accompanied by a wisp of smoke, the hot tip cauterized the small vessels. A sharp, nauseating smell of burnt meat, hair, and skin hung in the air. Smoke rose in a thin stream and Vice, wincing, waved it away with his hand in a stained glove. Flor rolled his eyes back and let out a muffled groan, his body tensing in a futile attempt to escape the pain.
— Almost done, — Vice encouraged him, forcefully pressing the cold, slippery implants into the incision. He filled the ragged edges of the wound with viscous bio-glue, which set with a hiss, emitting a chemical smell like burnt plastic. — There. Try it.
Flor spat out the chewed tubing and tried to turn the ship.
Nothing happened.
— It's not working! Why?
Vice carefully examined his arm. Hair-thin silver leads protruded from under the hardened crust of bio-glue and dried blood.
— Shit, I forgot to connect the ends to the nerves, — he reported calmly. — Need to redo it. Any vodka left?
Flor, almost passing out, groaned and nodded toward the tool locker.
Fortifying himself from the bottle, Vice tackled the redo with renewed vigor. He peeled off the hardened bio-glue along with the flesh and raised the probe over the wound, ready to grab the thin hair-like leads and solder them to the exposed nerve.
— I don't give a flying fuck about your anomalies! — Kate roared, barging onto the bridge, habitually fending off his brother. — I'm not a weather station. Why should I care about some fluctuations?
— I'll make a note of that in the report, — Shiruko responded calmly, following behind.
— I don't give a shit about your repor… — Kate choked mid-sentence, taking in the scene.
Flor, taped to the chair with his arm laid open. Above him, Vice with a soldering iron in one hand and a scalpel in the other. And three bottles of vodka on the table.
— What's the occasion for the interrogation? — Shiruko asked quietly, peering over Kate's shoulder.
— He asked for it, — Vice blurted out and smiled nervously.
— Why? — Shiruko continued his questioning without missing a beat.
— They're nerve nodes. For mental control of the ship, — Flor rasped.
— Contraband, — Vice added, looking at Shiruko ingratiatingly.
Kate finally came to his senses. The shock on his face gave way to almost professional interest. He stepped closer and stared at the wound.
— Wait, wait, — he muttered thoughtfully. — Why aren't you connecting to the median nerve? This one here, the yellowish one. That's where you need to solder this end. The ulnar nerve will only give you sensitivity, but for control — you need the median. Or do you want him to send us into another galaxy with a nervous tic?
— I'm aiming for the median nerve, — Vice snapped back. — Don't breathe down my neck.
— More to the left! — Kate commanded eagerly, leaning over the operating field. — Shit! Let me do it!
He snatched the scalpel from Vice's hand.
— This is how you do it! — Kate declared in a triumphant voice and jammed the soldering iron straight into the muscle.
Flor screamed.
— You idiot! — Vice screamed, tearing the surgical soldering iron from the captain's hands. — Get the hell out of here if your hands are growing out of your ass!
— What? — Kate's eyes narrowed, his hand instinctively finding the scalpel. — Did you just say that to me…
Vice ducked his head, but didn't let go of the soldering iron, continuing the operation.
And at that moment, the siren howled deafeningly. The navigation screens blazed with millions of data points. The overloaded computing system tried with all its might to process the data, but there was too much of it.
A second after the siren, Doug burst onto the bridge with his cutter drawn.
— What happe… — he saw Flor, bolted to the chair with a bloody arm, with Kate leaning over him holding a scalpel, and Vice screaming at the captain.
— Gravitational anomaly, — Shiruko explained impassively, studying the incoming data streams. — Some kind of ripple is passing through our sector of the galaxy. Most likely — space-time distortions.
— I was asking about Flor! — Doug raised his voice. — What happened to him?!
Shiruko tore himself away from the hologram for a second and glanced briefly at the pilot.
— He's just an idiot, — the Observer stated, and went back to studying the readings.
Kate, meanwhile, threw the scalpel onto the panel in annoyance.
— So what do we do now? — he grumbled, examining his bloody boot.
— What can you do, — Shiruko shrugged without looking away from the screen. — Seal his wound with bio-glue and hope his arm doesn't fall off.
— I wasn't talking about Flor, you fucking moron! — Kate roared, spinning toward his brother. — What about the anomaly?!
Shiruko blinked, immersing himself in the Special Division's information field.
A brief pause fell, broken only by the hiss of the soldering iron that had fallen to the floor and was melting the plastic, and Flor's ragged breathing.
— Nothing, — he finally pronounced. — The authorities can't do anything. An order has been issued to close the sector. Obviously, they'll wait out the wave and then place new colonies here after the sweeps. — After a short pause, Shiruko added quietly: — We won't make it out of the sector in time.
Kate exhaled noisily.
Shiruko began explaining exactly how they would die from the space-time distortion.
Shiruko turned, and his voice took on the tone of a funeral prayer recited over a grave:
— It will start with a tremor. Fine, barely noticeable. Then the ship's hull will begin to resonate. The metal won't howl — it will shriek, as if it's being cut into atoms. Then the temporal glitches will start. You'll see each other at different ages, your own skeletons, shadows of events that never happened. Then the wave will hit, and space will begin to tear. Not explode, but tear — like fabric. The ship, and us with it, will be stretched and compressed simultaneously. Our molecules…
— Wavebreaker, — Kate interrupted him.
Shiruko stopped and slowly turned his head toward his brother.
— What?
— The wave... Wavebreaker, — Kate repeated, looking Shiruko straight in the eyes. — Isn't it obvious?
A furious red light flickered in Shiruko's eye. You could hear his brain — that perfect computing machine — recalibrating, discarding the model of inevitable death and replacing it with a new one, insane and simultaneously brilliant.
Kate watched this in silence, and on his face, instead of his usual rage or mocking grin, a strange, almost proud expression appeared. He saw how one word from him had triggered a complex process — Kate the source, Shiruko the instrument of implementation.
— The impulse drive… — the Observer began quietly, gaining momentum. — If we push it beyond its limits and focus the output energy on the nozzles... not dissipate the plasma, but shape it into a narrow, stable wedge... Redirect the shield energy to the bow emitters, create not a barrier, but... a blade. Theoretically, a coherent energy stream of that density could... slice through the gravitational front like a hot knife through butter. Doug?
— Impossible, — Doug rasped, going pale. — The drive won't take it. It'll blow to pieces in the first second.
— Perfect, — Kate beamed, his face lighting up with a smile. — Vice, you'll help Doug with the "impossible." Use everything. The soldering iron, the bio-glue, the vodka.
Vice, still holding the bloody filter probe, looked at Doug with longing, then at the captain's mad eyes, and nodded with the submission of the doomed.
— Spare fuses, — Doug commanded. — All of them! And two bottles. Better make it three.
Kate rubbed his hands together.
— Flor, peel off that tape and get to the helm! Shiruko, — he looked at his brother, who was glued to the screens. — Report the situation. Move it, gang. Let's show these distortions what Vorlocks are made of!
Vice and Doug shot off to the engine room, taking with them the soldering iron, three bottles of vodka, and the captain's profane parting words. Flor finally freed himself from the straps and tape.
— Captain. My right arm isn't working yet! — he informed Kate, plopping into the chair in front of the screens.
Kate, rummaging through the relays, gave the pilot a dissatisfied look, then shifted his gaze to his brother and, grabbing Shiruko by the collar, threw the kid onto his knees next to Flor. — You. You'll help him, instead of his arm, — and, anticipating the indignant cries, cut him off: — Figure it out.
Shiruko was about to protest, but the red light in his implant began to blink at a furious frequency. He straightened up, reading the message aloud:
— The wave is approaching. Time dilation effects are already being detected at the sensor periphery. We have approximately seventeen minutes. — Shiruko began relaying the data coming from the ship: — Shield energy transfer to bow emitters... initiated. Drive reaching critical parameters. Vice?! Status of the impulse system?
The sound of breaking glass came from the intercom speaker.
— To hell with it all! — he shouted. — We're installing the fuses. The drives will hold! They have to hold!
— Just don't forget about the shields, — Kate muttered.
He walked up to the main shield control panel, removed the plastic cover, looked inside, saw a tangle of wires and, catching Shiruko's frightened look, confidently bit through the thickest cable with his teeth.
Sparks flew in all directions. The lighting on the bridge dimmed, but the bow of the ship lit up with a blinding bluish glow. A distorted, rising hum came through the speakers.
— See? — Kate spat out the insulation fragments. — It works.
Shiruko, without blinking, continued relaying data:
— Energy wedge formed. But unstable. Flor, course zero-zero-five, main engines at ninety.
Flor, with practiced effort, roughly, almost carelessly, yanked the thrust lever. The controls responded with an obedient click. Shiruko grabbed the focus controller slider with both hands and, leaning with his whole body, dragged it upward. The indicator crunched but slowly crept up the scale.
— Ten minutes to contact, — he announced.
— Doug, Vice, how's our "impossible" doing? — Kate asked.
Cursing and the sounds of heavy blows on metal came from the speaker.
— Everything's perfect, — the captain concluded.
He walked up to the forward viewport. The approaching ripple was already visible to the naked eye. The blackness was turning grey. Stars danced, forming disorderly circles. A mad smile bloomed on Kate's face.
— Well then, — he whispered, addressing the approaching apocalypse. — You think you can chew us up? Better hope your teeth don't shatter.
9
Shiruko was already lying down when a message came through his implant on a secure channel:
"Confirm control, per Order 4276."
Shiruko blinked instantly:
"Confirmed."
"You have one month. If no evidence of the subject's controllability is presented, liquidation will be carried out."
Shiruko sat up in bed:
"Evidence will be provided."
"I hope so."
"What's the status of my appeal regarding the Corporation?" — he inquired.
"Denied, due to insufficient evidence."
"There's enough evidence there to send half the Empire to liquidation."
"The evidence is circumstantial."
Shiruko ground his teeth. This was the eighth rejection in a row.
"Provide one direct piece of evidence — and I guarantee a tribunal. And finally deal with K-9."
For half the night, Shiruko stared at the open holographic document — Order 4276. He'd probably studied every letter, every comma in that cursed document.
"Order 4276. Subject: K-9. Recommendation: termination, still. Grounds: uncontrollable aggression. Note: if subject S-42 confirms control — execution delayed."
He snarled, clenching his fists in helplessness.
— Goddamn order! Isn't there anything I can do? This can't be happening! — he stubbornly refused to accept reality.
Shiruko ran his palm across his face — something was oozing from his nose. Blue drops of blood fell onto the table. Gritting his teeth, he stubbornly stared at the ghostly directive flickering in the darkness.
— No! I need to provide evidence that Kate is controllable, that he can sacrifice himself for others or for a cause, — Shiruko whispered and immediately fell silent, realizing the absurdity of the demand.
Hysterical laughter scattered in dry clicks through the silence.
— Fine, okay. Kate is uncontrollable. That doesn't matter. What matters is a report that satisfies the requirements. I need a planet… — he rushed to the tactical maps of the nearest sectors. — With a depot and... and some kind of disaster.
His grey eyes stared intently at the dance of planetary systems containing the Corporation's colonies.
— No, not that, too dangerous... here there's nothing in the depots... again no... — and suddenly Shiruko's gaze stopped on a small planet almost on the edge of the third arm of the spiral galaxy.
He zoomed in on the image to access the detailed data. A few minutes of careful study, and the verdict was delivered:
— Perfect.
Shiruko's system-administrative genius went to work. Within an hour, he had arranged everything. The team had a new mission — to determine the cause of communication loss on planet KP-1318.
Towards morning, the Observer finally passed out, face-planting into his work papers. But he didn't get to sleep for long. At exactly seven, the sharp trill of an alarm sounded. Shiruko lifted his head. His reddened, uncomprehending eyes stared at the clock face.
"Ah, right, the mission," he remembered, and forced himself up.
Ten minutes for a shower, another ten to get himself presentable. Finally, at exactly seven-thirty, Shiruko pressed the comm button to the captain.
— Gather the crew, — he reported calmly. — We have a new mission.
— At this hour… — Kate grumbled unhappily, but Shiruko clearly heard him jump out of bed. — Do you even sleep, or what?
— No, — Shiruko cut him off, glancing briefly in the mirror and smoothing down a stray hair. — Call a meeting in twenty minutes.
Kate sighed in response and cut the connection.
The cargo ship's bridge hummed like an old transformer — somewhere a punctured pipeline hissed, somewhere loose panel mounts rattled. The air was thick with a pungent mix of machine oil, burnt wiring, and cheap recycled air. The holographic screens flickered, periodically showing interference — another sign that the ship had long needed a complete overhaul.
Kate, as usual, was rocking in his chair, driving Shiruko crazy with his relaxed demeanor.
— So what's there? — the captain asked the pilot with complete disinterest. — How long do I have to wait?
— Yeah, just a second, — Flor nervously pressed a key, waiting for access to the planet's data.
Kate sighed loudly. Flor pressed the key again. Finally, streams of parameters spilled onto the screen.
— Planet KP-1318. Codename: "Chibil." Colonized one hundred and fifty years ago. At that time, the Corporation, under an agreement with the Empire, transported 200 people, including women and children. Under the agreement with the Empire, the Corporation was obligated to conduct medical research. Communication with the colony was lost approximately three months ago.
— Well? — Kate urged him on, completely uninterested in the whole story.
— The depot is sealed and intact.
— Excellent. Just need to deal with the Observers. Flor — get on it. — the captain turned to his assistant: — Doug — is the planet scan complete?
He nodded:
— Planet is normal. Tectonic activity minimal. Weather conditions stable.
— I wonder what could have happened there? — Vice asked thoughtfully, preparing his protective gear. — A mutiny?
— Or maybe an epidemic? — Flor offered his version.
— What epidemic? The Observers would have made contact anyway, even if all the colonists died, — Kate dismissed the stupid assumption. — Speaking of Observers. Flor?
— No trace of Observers on the planet, — the pilot reported in a bewildered voice.
Vice lowered his body armor, raising his eyebrows in surprise.
— Killed?
— They're not there.
— No Observers? — Kate finally stood up and walked over to the screen. He spun the planet's image several times, looking for Vorlock identification markers, but the planet was empty. — How strange.
Kate turned to his brother.
Shiruko blinked.
— Your handiwork? — the captain inquired.
The Observer shook his head negatively.
— You're lying, — Kate didn't believe him for a second. — Fine, everyone prepare. Descent in forty minutes. Shiruko, you're with us. Flor — you stay on the ship. Watch it.
Shiruko's eyes widened in surprise.
— What are you staring at? — Kate asked roughly. — I don't trust you. So I want you close. Come on, get to your cabin. Find a vest and a utility belt among your tuxedos. You do have a weapon, right?
— Yes, — Shiruko muttered, heading to change.
In his cabin, Shiruko hesitated. Laying out several knives, automatic shockers, a paralyzer, and a plasma cutter on the bunk, he couldn't decide what to take.
— Cutter or shocker? — he muttered.
— Take both, — Kate advised him grimly, appearing in the doorway.
— Why are you here? — the Observer asked unhappily, loading his weapon. — Come to rush me?
— No, came to ask how much longer you're going to hang around on my ship?
— What's your problem? Isn't it great working with your brother?
— No, it's not great, — Kate cut him off decisively. — Especially when your brother rats you out to the committee and a real commission can show up at any moment on your say-so.
— We have a deal, — Shiruko countered calmly. — I piss you off, you function. What's the problem?
— That's the problem. I don't want to function under your command.
Instead of making excuses, Shiruko just shrugged and smiled, triggering another fit of rage in his brother.
— Is this mission your work?
Shiruko looked up, staring fearlessly at his brother:
— What makes you think that?
— The fact that there are no Vorlocks there.
Shiruko snorted and shrugged again, triggering another fit of rage in his brother.
Kate personally checked the equipment of every team member going down. He made Shiruko cycle his shocker and show the paralyzer capsules.
— Can you shoot? — he inquired with a grin.
— I can, — Shiruko replied calmly, trying to balance his weapon.
— Check the atmosphere composition, — Kate ordered the pilot.
Flor nodded and began the ship's descent.
— Atmospheric background is normal. Results on pathogenic bioflora and fauna in a couple of minutes. — Flor reported after landing. — By the way, we're being greeted. A crowd has gathered. About forty people.
— Prepare for exit, — Kate ordered. — Doug — you take the right side. Vice — left. Shiruko — center. Activate weapons. Shoot to kill on sight.
The Vorlocks began setting their shockers to combat mode.
— Flor, you stay on the ship. Don't even think about giving tours to the locals. If one savage gets on board — I'll blow your head off. Got it?
— Yes, sir.
— Well then. Open the hatch! — Kate commanded. — Weapons ready. Move out.
The locals had already calmed down after the unexpected arrival. Little kids were even trying to climb the steps surrounding the pyramid. But mothers grabbed the brats, gave them a quick smack on the ass, and shooed them away from the dangerous place.
Suddenly, an opening appeared in the black, gleaming wall. Not a door opening, not a wall sliding away — an opening appeared, through which four figures in black jumped out. A murmur ran through the crowd. Everyone tried to get a look at the newcomers. Men and women stood on tiptoes, squinting and shielding their eyes from the sun blazing directly into them.
The old gods were faceless, with smooth black faces indistinguishable from one another. The new gods graciously took human form. The first was a young god with dazzling white hair, followed by guardian gods protecting him from both sides. The guardians held short clubs in their hands, their stern gazes sweeping over the crowd, selecting worthy victims. And finally, the last one — almost a boy, dark-haired, like the shadow of the main god.
The bodies of the gods were almost completely hidden by black coverings. No jewelry, no tattoos or body paintings. The gods are great. They don't need to announce themselves.
The priest, paralyzed by the unprecedented sight, was silent. Other gods had come to them, gods they had never prayed to. And what if they refused to help?
Kate, jumping off the ship onto the pyramid's peak, stared with disgust at the fat, bow-legged savage smeared with animal fat. The only attractive feature of the native was his collection of gold jewelry: armlets, anklets, a necklace.
The native was silent, stunned by the unprecedented event.
Kate, who quickly grew tired of staring at the painted savage, commanded:
— Someone, give him a shock to wake up this freak show. Or we'll be standing here until evening.
— I think that's a bad idea, — Shiruko's voice came from behind his shoulder. — Better try talking to him.
With a heavy sigh, Kate sucked in air:
— Fine, smartass. I'll try, — he agreed with obvious reluctance.
Turning the translator to full power, Kate announced:
— We have come. Speak.
The priest was the first to recover. Extending his trembling hands forward, he spoke in a chirping language. Kate listened for a while to the meaningless sets of phrases reproduced by the translator, which gradually began to form structure. Finally, he made out that the priest was taking him for a feathered god and asking for a blessing.
Kate waved his hand, ordering the priest to shut up.
— What do you want? — he asked, and the translator immediately rendered his words with a thunderous roar.
While the captain tried to get at least some intelligible information, Kate's soldiers examined the local population.
— What a disgusting old man, — Doug noted. — What's he smeared all over with?
Sniffing the air, the Vorlock winced. The copper aroma of human blood, overheated by the sun, was unpleasant.
— What do they do here? — Vice asked rhetorically, peering at the dark stains.
— They're having a festival — who can put on the most women's trinkets, — Doug declared with the air of an expert on human cultures. — I'll bet three credits that this walking jewelry store is their chief.
— Looks like it, — Vice agreed, examining the man standing next to the priest.
The chief looked to be over fifty, his chest already sunken, but his war paint indicated that in the recent past he'd been a strong warrior. The rest of the people were decorated as best they could. But mostly they clearly didn't bother with outfits. A good half of them wore gold necklaces and bracelets on their arms and legs.
Kate was already starting to lose patience with the priest's stupidity. He kept mumbling on about gods, chariots, blooming flowers, and other nonsense. But then the chief decided to intervene in the conversation. Taking a symbolic step forward toward the gods, he spoke:
— The Day of Fear is approaching. In three springs, our lands have been emptied. A faceless horror descends from the great mountains and devours everything in its path. If the gods do not help us, then this year not a single living thing will remain on this earth. We prayed to the gods. We offered great sacrifices, — pronouncing the last words, the chief turned to the crowd, and the people met his words with an approving hum. — My son ascended the steps of the pyramid to the summit! And the gods heard us, they will help us!
The warriors raised their weapons, and a war cry rolled across the valley.
— Apparently they're taking all of us for gods, — Vice concluded.
— A profound statement. I can tell you've been thinking about that for a long time, — Kate joked grimly, calculating something in his mind. — I wonder if this is all the gold they have, or if there's more stock somewhere?
— First deal with their problem, — Shiruko taunted him venomously. — You think they'll bring you gold for your pretty eyes?
— You think I can't? — Kate's eyes flashed with rage. Turning to the priest, he ordered: — Gather all the warriors who saw what descends from the mountains. We wish to speak of this.
— So be it! — the priest wailed, finally inserting himself into the conversation, apparently unwilling to remain in the shadows. After all, negotiations with the gods were his prerogative. — The gods will speak.
The chief nodded, summoning an aging warrior.
The man cleared his throat and began by declaring that he was the sole survivor of the Days of Fear in his land.
— Speak! — Kate demanded, furrowing his brows sternly.
The warrior bowed his head with dignity…
— Wait, — Kate turned to the chief: — Where did your gods go? The ones who lived here before we came?
The chief froze, then slowly ran his hand over the feathers of his headdress:
— They... went into the sky. They said they would return. And the next day, the Days of Fear began.
Kate exchanged a glance with Shiruko.
— Just before the fun started, — he hissed in Vorlock. — What a coincidence.
— I'll check through my channels, — Shiruko promised, and blinked, summoning the information display onto his transparent eyelid.
Meanwhile, the warrior began his story. Judging by the smoothness of the narrative, the abundance of details, and the colorfulness of the epithets, he'd told this story many times before. And it was clear that there was much more embellishment than truth:
— The sun stood at its zenith. The shadows disappeared completely. It was so hot that the air shimmered. The women went into their houses and occupied themselves with their meaningless tasks, the warriors lay in the shade and rested, even the children, tired of their mischief, fell silent. And then, in complete silence, I saw something without a body... something intangible, hovering over the house. And then the Fear came. People ran out of their houses seized by terror. They rose into the air above the ground and fell back down dead. Within minutes, it was all over. I survived only because several bodies fell on me immediately, and the demons didn't notice me beneath them. But my entire family — my wife, children, parents, brothers and their children and wives — all were dead.
Reliving these events, the warrior became agitated, sweat beading on his forehead, and his voice kept breaking.
— Shiruko, — the captain signaled to his younger brother. — Your turn. You can even cross-examine him. If you can find anyone to cross-examine with.
Shiruko's pupils stretched into a thread:
— I'll find someone, — he promised, beginning the interrogation. — You say you didn't see the demon that attacked you, and yet you say you saw something hovering over the house. How is that possible? — he pressed the warrior.
— The air above the house changed, it became more transparent, like in the mountains, and then a shadow like from a high fence, not for long, just a moment, and it became cool, — the warrior tried to convey his sensations, but clearly lacked the words.
— How big was it?
— Very large, like three men's houses stacked on top of each other.
— How far were you from the house when you felt the cold?
The warrior indicated a distance of a little over ten meters.
Shiruko nodded and asked a new question:
— You say people ran out of their houses in terror — what scared them so much? Did the ground shake, or were there sounds…
— No, nothing like that. For a moment, there was complete silence — you could have heard a flea jump. And then I felt fear creeping into my heart. It wasn't the fear of death, no, it was such horror…
The warrior coughed, unable to continue.
Shiruko began to meticulously interrogate the warrior about the smallest details:
How did people rise above the ground: sideways, vertically, or some other way?
Did it first become cool, and then he noticed the air becoming more transparent, or the other way around?
What did the victims look like?
What kind of wounds were inflicted on them? Were there any wounds at all?
What did people eat and drink before the Fear came?
— Shit, — Kate summarized in Vorlock. — Something that camouflages itself perfectly, at least six meters in size, possesses psychodelic energy, and lowers the temperature around itself within a ten-meter radius. And it softens bones. Doug, transmit to the ship — have Flor scan the area with special thoroughness, especially the mountains, for this creature.
— I think we should scan the mountains. Beyond those mountains is a large sea, and based on the description, the creature is more like an aquatic animal, — Flor objected. — A jellyfish, for example…
Kate snorted:
— A jellyfish? And how do you imagine a jellyfish crawling out of the sea? Although, we should check that too.
— When did the Fear come? — Kate asked the chief.
— It came three times. The first time it destroyed all the villages of our enemies at the foot of the mountains, the second time the villages along the river, and the third time it stopped a few kilometers from our settlement. It happened each time at the same time. There are only two sunrises left until the next time.
Doug cursed obscenely:
— God damn it all to hell, and I was hoping for an easy job. Fly in, fix the comms, have some tea with the wardens, collect our reward. And here it's a complete madhouse. What do we do?
— What do we do? Get on the ship and fly as far and fast as possible, — Vice answered.
— Exactly, we're not an ambulance crew, — Flor backed him up.
— I don't object, — Doug nodded.
— I do, — Shiruko unexpectedly spoke up.
The Vorlocks stared at the kid in bewilderment.
— I don't get it? What exactly are you against? — Doug asked.
— Against you deciding to run away.
— Shiruko, we'll all get screwed, — Doug muttered. — You heard what that savage said.
— Look at our hero talking now, — Kate grinned, squinting suspiciously. "Did little brother get some secret info about this planet? No wonder there are no Vorlocks here." — Since you're so eager, I'll give you first place in line for the afterlife.
The chief straightened up, watching their negotiations warily, as if he could guess what was being discussed.
— If you bail now, I'll report you to the tribunal, — Shiruko declared fearlessly, looking Kate in the eyes. — Violation of Regulation 326, looting, and abandonment in danger. What do you think, Kate — after the verdict, will you still be a captain?
— I don't give a shit about the rank, and I don't give a shit about the people — let them get themselves out of this shit. Shiruko, do you realize that if we stay, we risk dying along with these savages?
— Everyone dies sometime, — Shiruko replied calmly.
— I'd prefer to die of old age.
Shiruko silently walked to the edge of the platform and, with one hand, pulled up a young woman carrying a child from the steps. Frightened by being so close to the gods, the woman pressed the child to her chest and jumped back, shielding the baby with her body.
— Maybe you'll say that to her? — Shiruko asked, pointing at the woman.
— I will, — Kate declared without a second's hesitation. — I don't give a shit.
— Say it, — Shiruko demanded.
Silence fell. For about three seconds, Kate stared at Shiruko, silent, realizing that his little brother had caught him in a trap. Finally, grinding his teeth, he ordered Flor:
— Have Flor run a full planet scan.
A strange expression flickered in Shiruko's eyes — one Kate couldn't read.
— Already done, — Flor reported, adjusting his earpiece. — No biological threats detected.
Glaring at Shiruko, Kate hissed through his teeth:
— Captain, order a scan for non-protein life forms, — Shiruko suddenly requested.
Kate stared at his brother in amazement. Such a possibility hadn't even crossed his mind. Cases of non-protein life forms were extremely rare, and one where non-protein life threatened biological species had never been recorded.
— Idiot, non-protein life can't threaten protein life in principle. We're too different, — Kate grinned. — What interest could meat have for rocks?
— Bones, — Shiruko replied with just one word.
Kate even turned green, understanding everything from that single word. He spun sharply to the chief and asked through the translator:
— Bones?
The chief nodded:
— Bones.
Shiruko flicked a hologram from his wrist bracelet into the air with a sliding motion:
— Look at the molecular composition. I suspect they don't just eat bones — only specific elements. Phosphorous compounds, collagen matrices…
Kate clenched his jaw, his pupils narrowing into slits for a moment:
— You're saying these things use our bones as... building material?
— More precisely — as a catalyst, — Shiruko ran his finger over the hologram, highlighting silicon inclusions in the samples. — Their replication may require exactly this kind of porous structure.
While his brother was lecturing, Kate suddenly noticed a red flicker on his transparent eyelid. Was this rat receiving secret information right now? What about? What had he learned that was making him play Saint Tezcatlipoca — defender of the colonists? Shiruko noticed Kate staring at him like a sheep at a new gate and blinked, closing the comm channel.
— Captain, — Flor announced sharply over the internal comm. — Just broke into the accounting channel. Five years ago, the Corporation purchased DNA modifiers and collagen matrix synthesizers.
"Aha," Kate realized, not taking his eyes off Shiruko. "So that's what you're up to, you OSO rat. Rustling through the expense ledgers."
The chief, not understanding what was being discussed, shook his tooth necklace:
— Fear doesn't take old bones! Only fresh ones — where life flows.
Kate's hand involuntarily went to his ribs — there was certainly enough life in his bones.
Doug recoiled from the hologram, only now realizing what it meant:
— So they're like parasitic fungi that grow through ants? But for silicon crap?
Vice just shook his head, speechless.
A call from the ship beeped.
— Holy shit… — Doug muttered after listening to the ship's report. — Captain, the mountain range peak is covered with non-protein formations. There are so many of these things it's uncountable. They're held back by the magnetic field, but as soon as the field tension changes, they'll be able to migrate.
Doug tossed aside his now useless shocker:
— Well, boys, get ready to die. These toys will only push them back a couple of meters.
— How convenient that all the monsters are in one place, right? — Kate asked his brother in a silky voice.
The latter replied without blinking:
— Indeed, it's very convenient. We can blow them up all at once.
And again — that damn red flicker under his eyelid, driving Kate insane. Why couldn't he use his implant at full capacity like Shiruko?
— With what?
— Forgot about the depot? Send Doug and Vice to sort it out.
Kate gave the order. While waiting for the results, some girl brought a drink for the gods — two mugs of steaming sludge.
Kate tried the drink and winced:
— Tastes as shitty as it looks, — he stated, and added a second later: — Just like our luck.
Shiruko took the second mug, sniffed it, smiled at the chief, and poured the liquid onto the pyramid's stone slabs:
— Not all is lost.
Kate glared at his brother from under his brows and asked him a direct question:
— What the hell are you making me do this for? Do you understand that these people, — he gestured at the crowd gathered below. — These people are nobody to us. Meat.
— I understand, — Shiruko nodded obediently.
The chief and priest strained to listen to the unfamiliar hissing speech.
— Then what the hell? — seeing that Shiruko wasn't rushing to answer, Kate exploded. — What the hell can't you leave me alone? Why are you getting your hands dirty? You're a Captain Second Rank of Internal Security — what are you doing on a cargo ship with an eliminator? — he swallowed the thick saliva filling his mouth and cut him off mercilessly: — You're a spy. I'm an executioner. Let me live the way I'm used to!
— The way you're used to? Jumping anyone who looks at you wrong with a knife?
— That's my life. Let me go.
Shiruko hesitated for a second, apparently deciding whether to speak or stay silent as usual. After a few seconds of doubt, Shiruko raised his hand. A click on his wrist bracelet ejected a holographic document, which spun before his brother. The executioner caught it with two fingers and shook it open.
"Order 4276. Subject: K-9. Recommendation: termination, still. Grounds: uncontrollable aggression. Note: if subject S-42 confirms control — execution delayed."
Kate bit his lip:
— My leash is even shorter than I thought, — he admitted quietly.
— Do you remember how Doug beat you? — Shiruko asked suddenly.
Kate froze. Blinked. His hand instinctively went to his ribs, where scars still showed white.
— Why are you asking about that now? — he rasped, forcing his hand down.
— Do you remember? — Shiruko repeated his question.
Kate nodded.
— Do you remember how I gave him to you?
A deathly pallor spread across Kate's face.
— Well?
— You threw him away…
— Well?
— But I gave myself you. And I never throw away my toys.
The conversation broke off. Kate's wrist bracelet vibrated.
— Yes?
— Captain, — he heard Doug's familiar voice. — The depot is empty. Looks like the Observers cleaned it out before they left.
Kate ground his teeth:
— Get back here. — turning his head to his brother, Kate asked: — Now what? We throw rocks at them?
Heavy silence hung over the pyramid.
The chief looked at the priest. The latter, with an impassive face, studied the white-haired god with slightly narrowed eyes. The chief suppressed a sigh, but the worm of doubt had already crawled into his mind. The old gods were powerful. They never spoke to people or to each other. But these ones just talked and argued. And their faces weren't joyful. Despair showed in their eyes… What if all the sacrifices had been in vain, and these gods couldn't help? And were they even gods at all?
Slightly out of breath, Doug flew onto the platform. Behind him, Vice ambled unhurriedly, nervously tapping his shocker.
— So, Captain? — Doug asked, wiping the sweat from his forehead. — Maybe we should report to Central?
— Tired of living? — Shiruko asked grimly.
Doug wasn't particularly surprised:
— What's with the pessimism? Or did you dig up something else?
A barely noticeable smile touched the Observer's lips:
— In broad terms, the Corporation was conducting experiments here on the symbiosis of abiogenic life forms with biological ones.
At the word "experiments," Kate's fingers twitched, as if a red-hot nail had been driven into a nerve. Shiruko noticed his brother's reaction but continued his line:
— I didn't want to say this, but... we can't escape from here. We were already entered into the experiment when we received the mission.
— I don't give a shit about your big words. I'm not staying here, — Vice declared.
— You can try, — Shiruko didn't even argue. — If you run, they'll find you and liquidate you as unwanted witnesses. But if we hold out and capture samples…
He paused, letting the words sink into the eliminators' minds.
— If we hold out, we can file an appeal with the Tribunal. It's the only chance for long-term survival.
Doug snorted sarcastically:
— Eliminators filing an appeal with the Tribunal? That's rich.
— The question is, how do we hold out? — Kate asked Shiruko.
— We'll remove the engine from the ship, refocus the resonance, and create a localized magnetic dome. It should work… theoretically.
— Theoretically? — Doug was already at his limit. — You're theoretically suggesting we stay here with no chance of escape?
— You don't have a chance anyway, — Shiruko replied harshly.
Kate was about to object, but the priest interjected. Smeared with blue paint and blood, stinking of rancid fat and copper blood, he approached the white-haired god and, looking him straight in the eyes, declared:
— My warriors can be a shield…
Kate tilted his head to his shoulder. His pupils, long and narrow, contracted into a thread. Not understanding that this was an expression of extreme rage, the priest continued his mockery:
— Talk, talk. I haven't heard this many words even from women.
Without answering, Kate shot his hand forward. His fingers dug into the throat, claws piercing the skin, tearing through muscle, finding the pulsing artery.
Blood sprayed into his face. Ignoring the splatters flying in all directions, Kate pressed his thumbs into the eye sockets, crushing the lenses, feeling the mucous membrane rupture. He shoved the priest forward, and the man went limp. Contemptuously twisting his mouth, Kate kicked the old man with his boot, and the convulsing body flew down, thudding against the steps.
Shiruko, who had watched the scene of violence, swallowed his now-thick saliva, making no attempt to stop his brother.
Doug just shook his head, whispering:
— When I was eighteen, I remember having fun differently.
Kate looked at the chief. The man stood frozen. But not from fear. The chief understood — the newcomers weren't just warriors preparing for battle with the unknown — they were gods. Not the ones who hide in the heavens. But real ones, full of rage, life, and death. Gods of Wrath.
— So, Captain, are we removing the engine? — the brother asked, as if nothing had happened.
— Yes, Shiruko. We're removing it, — Kate nodded, and turning to the chief, ordered: — Gather everyone. Have them build catapults. Good old fucking kinetics never fails.
After a frantic day of work, evening came before tomorrow's storm.
Shiruko sat on the stone steps, disassembling a shocker hastily modified by Flor. His fingers methodically checked the battery charge, as if that could distract from thoughts of tomorrow.
Kate approached and sat down silently beside him.
— I didn't ask you to free me, — continuing the conversation on the pyramid, Kate finally said, spinning the knife handle in his hands.
Shiruko froze for a split second and, without looking up, nodded:
— Yes.
— And you shouldn't have gotten involved.
— Of course, — the brother obediently confirmed.
Kate clenched his fist, ignoring the whitening knuckles. He hated when Shiruko pretended to agree.
— Tomorrow, stay out of the way, — Kate threw out.
Shiruko finally looked up. In the twilight, his vertical pupils had widened, becoming almost round. He reached out and took Kate's shocker. With confident movements, Shiruko adjusted the frequency by three notches.
— I'm not getting my hands dirty, it's not beneath me, — Shiruko suddenly replied, irrelevantly, to Kate's morning question, fixing his gaze on the hertz scale.
Kate sighed. He took back the shocker and stood up:
— Go to sleep, — the eliminator ordered his brother harshly.
— Yes, — Shiruko nodded. — I'll go soon.
Left alone, Shiruko looked up and, gritting his teeth, stared at the stars — when the hell would he finally be able to archive that cursed Order 4276?!
The next day, everyone worked nonstop, constantly glancing at the instruments. But then the magnetic pole indicators flickered, and the red sea immediately stirred.
The huddled Vorlocks and natives silently watched as the red spots gradually spread outward. At first, they moved chaotically, like amoebas' pseudopods, and then the movement gained direction. The red sea turned into a stream, then into a current that flowed toward the settlement.
At first, the movement was slow, then it accelerated and accelerated.
— At this speed, — Vice noted in a low voice. — They'll reach us in five hours at most.
— Is the generator ready? — Kate turned and looked at the former engine, where Doug was sitting.
Doug, who hadn't slept for over a day, nodded:
— Yes, sir. But we won't be able to tune the field until these monsters show up. So we'll all have to spend a few minutes alone with these lovely little darlings.
— Everyone rest, — Kate shouted.
Kate, sitting at the monitor, helplessly watched the red river of monsters inexorably approaching the village. His vertical pupils dilated and contracted, as if reacting to changes in the picture.
Finally, Kate signaled everyone to take their positions.
— Doug, you're responsible for the generator. How long do you need to tune it?
— Six minutes.
— Alright, everyone hear that? Six minutes, guys. We just have to hold out for six minutes.
Then he noticed Shiruko.
— To the second line, puppy, — Kate commanded.
— Keep your orders for the ship, — Shiruko snapped back. — Here, I'm the senior officer.
— You promised yesterday not to interfere…
— Did I promise? — Shiruko stared defiantly at his brother.
Doug froze with a cable in his hands; Vice nervously shifted his gaze from one to the other and sighed heavily — what a time to bicker.
Kate ground his teeth. There was nothing to argue with. Technically, Shiruko hadn't promised anything yesterday.
— Six minutes! — Kate growled.
Everyone silently took their positions around the perimeter.
Doug, cranking the settings to zero, suddenly noticed Vice.
— Are you shaking? — he grinned. — Now that's a first.
— Aren't you scared? — Vice asked, swallowing thick saliva.
— Terrified, — a crooked grin twisted Doug's face.
And at that moment, the indicator sliders jumped. Doug's vertical pupils, like all Vorlocks', narrowed to the thickness of a hair.
In extraordinary silence, both humans and Vorlocks suddenly felt with their skin that something indescribable was happening. Kate stared at the transparent sky but couldn't see anything. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched the people. The natives stood in a tight ring, with impassive faces.
— They're here, — Doug said in complete silence.
The Vorlocks raised their shockers, still seeing nothing.
Shiruko looked away from the empty sky and began to peer intently at the ground. At first, he noticed nothing. But then he saw a thin stream of sand racing over the ground.
"There's no wind," flashed through his mind, and without even realizing the thought, he raised his shocker and pulled the trigger. The weapon was set to maximum. An energy bolt flew out of the muzzle with such force that the kid barely held it.
— What the hell are you doing?! — Kate shouted, spinning around.
But then a whistle so loud passed over their heads that the people fell to the ground, and the Vorlocks crouched, covering their ears with their hands.
Kate suddenly saw how, from the air, as if from turning louvers, a huge figure of a monster materialized. He'd never seen anything so vile.
Even the Vorlocks lowered their hands.
Around the suddenly so small palace, monsters stood in a circle. Kate heard the women screaming inside. He saw one man, his face twisted with madness, lunge forward — and his body was pierced by three crystalline spines that erupted from nowhere. The others collapsed to the ground, convulsing. Only two stayed on their feet, clutching Vorlock weapons in their hands.
And then Kate pulled his trigger.
It took no more than a second, but to Kate and the other warriors, it felt like hours.
The monsters froze for a second, bewildered by the unexpected resistance and the lack of contact with the Vorlocks' nervous systems.
Kate, not stopping his trigger pull, felt joy that they'd stopped the monsters so easily. It hadn't been a waste to reconfigure the energy streams — now the discharges tickled their silicon matrices quite effectively.
— Five more minutes! — Doug shouted, working on the generator settings. — Just five!
Consumed by the sudden adrenaline rush, Kate missed the moment when the monster closest to the shooters suddenly froze, swaying its huge tentacle-sensors, recalibrating its sensors.
And then he felt fear. Animal, overwhelming. When your palms get sweaty, your knees shake, and nasty sticky sweat pours into your eyes. When you want to become very small and bury yourself deep under a blanket so no one can find you.
Vice, standing nearby, suddenly screamed — Kate only realized this from his wide-open mouth, as a terrible whistling and roaring surrounded them. Dropping his weapon, Vice fell to his knees, covering his face with his hands, as if trying to shield himself from the horror.
— Get up! — Doug yelled, kicking him.
But Vice didn't react.
Flor exchanged a glance with Doug and picked up Vice's cutter with his free hand.
The second wave of fear, crashing down on the Vorlocks like an open hell, consumed their souls and cast them into darkness. Kate felt his weapon waver. His palms suddenly began to shake, and he couldn't stop them. The shocker fell. His knees treacherously buckled.
— Kate! Up! — he heard Shiruko's voice.
Kate looked up and saw spines hovering above him. His fingers clenched convulsively. As if in slow motion, he thought: " I won't reach it in time."
And suddenly a small figure stood before him. Shiruko, his face crazed with terror, fired a burst straight into the cross-section of the inhuman creature.
Sharp spines shot toward him, and one — the longest — pierced his shoulder.
Kate couldn't do anything. In desperation, almost losing consciousness from fear and the pain suddenly piercing his nerves, Kate began to grope the ground. Finally, his fingers found the hot steel of a muzzle.
Shiruko.
The monster drove a second spine straight into the boy's stomach. It went right through, and Kate saw the bloody tip sticking out of the wound.
— No, — Kate screamed silently and lunged forward. Just a few steps to Shiruko, but those steps cost Kate too much. Unbearable nerve pain almost robbed him of the ability to move. The Vorlocks, driven mad by terror, fired nonstop from their shockers, drenching the plain in fire and preventing the monsters from approaching their prey — the captain.
Kate drew his knife and drove it into the base of the spine. He pressed down on the stone curve with such force that the super-alloy titanium couldn't take it and shattered. The joint cracked. The monster whistled, and Kate nearly fell from the wave of pain that crashed over him. Shiruko lost consciousness.
Kate dragged him back, trying not to look at the thin stream of blue blood flowing from his nose down his cheek. He carried him to the frightened crowd of women and laid him on the ground.
— Three minutes!
Kate turned, weapon in hand, and took a step forward, toward the fear.
10
Kate entered the medbay. The cabin was dimly lit. Shiruko, still unconscious, lay on the resuscitation table. Kate checked the instruments' readings and added more painkillers — he didn't want Shiruko to feel bad when he woke up.
— Captain? — he heard Doug's voice over the shipwide comm.
— Yeah.
— We've left orbit. Cruising speed.
— Good.
After a second's pause, Doug asked:
— How's Shiruko?
— He'll pull through, — Kate declared confidently, and added with venom in his voice: — He'll still manage to write a report. So get ready to write an explanation to the committee about that gold.
However, when Doug signed off, Kate's lips twisted in fear. Shiruko was pale — like a corpse. A thin trickle of blue blood ran from his nose down his cheek.
He glanced at the instruments again and sighed heavily.
— You think you can get rid of me that easily? — he muttered, sitting down beside the body. — That's not gonna fly. Who's gonna piss me off then? Or do you think Doug can handle it?
He carefully touched the small, thin hand with his rough fingers. A deep furrow appeared above Kate's nose. Swallowing, he squeezed his brother's hand with almost no pressure — and suddenly felt a faint, almost imperceptible twitch in response.
Five hours passed before the instruments beeped, bringing the curve of readings up to the yellow line. Half an hour later, Shiruko's eyelids fluttered.
— How you doing? — Kate immediately asked.
Shiruko opened his eyes with difficulty, looking around the room. A weak smile touched his lips when he realized Kate was okay.
— Alive? — he asked his brother, parting his dry lips.
— I am, yeah. But what the hell did you jump to the front line for? — Kate leaned closer, his pupils contracting into a thread, showing his state. — You're not old enough to play hero, puppy.
— Don't yell at me, — Shiruko hissed back. — It hurts…
Kate's eyes shot to the life support readings.
— You're lying, — he retorted. — It doesn't hurt.
— You trust the machine, or me?
Kate suddenly bit his lip, holding back a laugh.
— Add more painkillers?
Instead of answering, Shiruko turned his head to the wall.
— The natives gave us a ton of gold, — Kate suddenly spoke up. — Nice haul. Even without the depot. You set us up with a good job. And we lost Vice. Says he stayed as an observer — ran off, the bastard. On the other hand — he was a lousy fighter anyway. Cracked when those things turned on their psi-field.
— Did you report to Central?
— Why? That's Vice's personal business.
— What does Vice have to do with it? — Shiruko curled his lip contemptuously, showing he no longer cared about Vice. — Idiot, you were supposed to close the order!
Outraged, he even tried to sit up. But Kate noticed the movement and roughly pushed his brother's shoulders back onto the table.
— Don't move, — he said sharply. — Of course I rustled through your papers and closed it. Or do you take me for a complete idiot?
— You…
— You talk too much, — Kate cut him off and reached for the instruments. — I think you need to sleep.
Shiruko opened his mouth to protest, but something clicked in his consciousness, and he passed out.
The second time Shiruko woke up, he was alone in his cabin. No life support instruments nearby. Taking a deep breath, Shiruko listened to his internal sensations. Air entered his lungs freely and exited just as easily. He felt his body — one tight bandage on his stomach, another on his shoulder. Almost no pain on contact. Shiruko rolled onto his good side and tried to sit up, leaning on his palm.
It took three tries.
— Good, — Shiruko whispered, but immediately had to squeeze his eyes shut — black spots swam before his eyes.
— Awake? — Kate asked from the doorway, holding a tray with some plates. — Man, you can sleep. Five days out cold.
— Five days? — Shiruko was surprised. — What did you pump me full of?
Slamming the tray onto the table, Kate grinned:
— What was I supposed to do? You couldn't lie still for a second. — he grabbed a steaming mug from the tray and shoved it into Shiruko's hand. — Drink, — he ordered in a tone that brooked no argument.
Shiruko automatically brought the drink to his lips:
— What is this? — he asked in surprise, catching a strange smell.
— Better you don't know. But it even brings the dead back. Trust me.
Shiruko nodded and downed the fiery brew in one gulp. For a second he sat with wide-open eyes, then convulsively opened his mouth, trying to grab oxygen. He lunged forward, clearly intending to kill this devil.
Kate laughed, jumping away from the bed:
— See? I told you — it brings the dead back. You wanted to get up, right?
— Yes, — Shiruko admitted through his teeth. — To gut you!
And unable to reach his brother, he hurled a plate of porridge at him.
— That was your lunch, — Kate noted casually.
— Not hungry, — Shiruko cut him off roughly, and running his hand over the bandage, added: — Probably half my guts are gone too.
Kate bent down to pick up the pieces. Shiruko watched in silence.
— I don't get why you're so tense, — Kate finally said. — No gratitude. Just hissing like a viper.
— What am I supposed to do? — Shiruko asked helplessly.
Kate stared at his brother.
"Right now he's weak, confused, maybe even grateful for being saved," raced through Kate's mind. "Isn't this the perfect moment? There won't be a better chance."
He hesitated for a couple of seconds. Finally, licking the crusts from his dry crusts, he asked carefully:
— You know why I don't remember ending up in captivity? What happened?
Shiruko flinched as if struck by a whip. He went pale. For a moment, Kate even feared his brother would pass out.
— I know, — Shiruko finally answered.
— Well?
Shiruko lowered his gaze. His fingers gripped the edge of the sheet so hard that blue veins stood out on his palms.
— … Our father, — he finally admitted. — He spent a lot of money to... get you — the perfect heir. But you grew up sickly and… — Shiruko sucked in air noisily and, after a second's pause, continued: — He ran a DNA marker test. And the analyzer showed 1-. The instrument was wrong.
Silence hung in the cabin.
Kate frowned, as if trying to break through the fog in his memory. His lips trembled:
— I... don't remember anything.
Shiruko nodded:
— Father erased your memory and…
— Sold me, — Kate finished for him in a calm voice.
Having said that single word, Kate fell silent, staring at Shiruko with a heavy gaze. The latter sat on the edge of the bunk, unable to look up.
— And you did nothing?
— I was seven years old — what could I do?
Kate's pupils narrowed into slits:
— You could have killed him. I would have, — Kate stated without emotion.
Shiruko threw his head up, for the first time during the conversation meeting his brother's eyes:
— I did.
Heavy silence filled the room. Only one thought pounded in Kate's eyes: "That's not enough. Nothing could ever be enough!"
— So you decided to fix father's mistake? But first, you decided to train me — to make me obedient so I wouldn't do anything stupid?
Shiruko threw his head up. He wanted to object, but Kate wouldn't listen.
— You seriously thought that if you put a leash on me and threw Doug in as a bone for me to chew on, you could tame me?
Kate exhaled, wanting to say something else, but suddenly feared he'd break down hysterically. He spun around and walked out, slamming the door so hard the bulkheads shook.
Shiruko remained sitting on the edge of the bunk.
Suddenly he felt a familiar cold in his chest — the same as two years ago, when he'd gone to his father for a desperate conversation.
Memory dragged the events of those days out of oblivion:
Lan Stanley sat at his desk, glaring darkly at the empty bottles lined up before him. His lips curled forward in contempt.
— So, General? Here's your army. Like it? Here are your soldiers.
He snarled and hurled a mug straight into the pile of empty bottles. Shards of glass flew in all directions. A few pieces caught his cheeks, but Lan paid it no attention.
— So much money wasted on two bastards — all for nothing, — he growled. — One couldn't be bothered to be born with a plus like he was ordered to, and the second… — the general spat.
The spit was weak. Saliva, not leaving his lips, dribbled down his chin and fell, staining his uniform.
— Bastard! — Lan didn't stop, trying to spit a second time with the same result. — OSO rat. Disgrace to the bloodline... Fuck it!
He groped among the broken glass for a miraculously intact half-empty bottle and put it to his lips. After a few gulps, the Vorlock's keen ears caught barely audible footsteps. Soft-soled shoes.
Lan lowered the bottle and stared with hatred at Shiruko, frozen on the threshold.
— And here's the rat showing up in my house, — Lan announced loudly, examining his son's scrawny figure.
Small, dark-haired, despite his 1+ marker. A rat. And his face was like a rat's — dark little eyes, sharp nose, and cheekbones.
— What do you want? — he asked roughly. — Come to visit? Or need money?
— I need money, — Shiruko replied calmly.
Lan laughed:
— Well, well. And you said you'd never ask for anything. Not even five years, and you come crawling to Daddy.
A muscle twitched in Shiruko’s jaw, but he said nothing. Lan kept on taunting him.
— What’s the matter? Missing the whores? Well, of course — who’d let someone like you have it for free. — Lan’s lips curled in contempt, his fingers tightening into a fist. — DNA marker one-plus. You know I only ordered one specimen with that marker, right? Kate was supposed to get everything good.
He laughed, watching his son’s face turn to stone.
— All the fucking junk from the separation went into your vial. You’re nothing but genetic slag who only got born because disposal cost more than keeping you alive.
He fell silent, catching his breath. Shiruko stood motionless, his hands clenched into fists, nails biting into his palms.
Lan’s ring reacted to the pressure, and a holographic palm-print slipped out, hovering over the table.
— So you came for the money, did you? — Lan grabbed the hologram and hurled it at Shiruko. — Here. Take it and get the hell out, you rat. I don't want to see your face again.Shiruko caught the shimmering print and fed it into his wrist comm. Without a word, he turned and left the ancestral home.
"I got the money" — he sent a message over a secure channel as soon as he left the house.
"The full amount?"
"Yes"
"I'll send the transfer details"
"Waiting"
He hit send and the "message" vanished into the void — the address field was blank.
Shiruko dropped into the back seat of the car and ordered Vice:
— Home.
He never unclenched his convulsively balled fists the whole way. Once inside his apartment, the first thing he did was activate the leak protection. Then he lowered the blinds. Checked the bathroom. Walked through every room with a scanner. Only then did he turn on the laptop. The system scanned his iris and authorized access. Shiruko opened the hidden folder "K-9". And from the shimmering depths of the screen, a three-dimensional image of Kate leaped out.
Shiruko's pupils dilated.
Kate. Brother. A mutilated, emaciated body covered in scars, bruises, and unhealed wounds. A face twisted with rage. And the worst thing — a festering, empty socket where his left eye should have been.
He ground his teeth.
"91111935754" — the laptop beeped.
"Received" — Shiruko responded instantly. — "Eight hundred thousand extra. Install an implant for the lost eye. The latest model."
"Received"
And after ten endless minutes of waiting, the response:
"Implant order confirmed"
At five in the morning, Lan, blue with rage and hangover, burst into his son's apartment.
— You animal! — he screamed, kicking the kid off the sofa. — You... where's the money? You little bastard! Where did you put all the money!
Shiruko rolled across the floor.
— You gave it to me yourself yesterday! — he declared, struggling to his feet.
— You... the money must be back in my account in five minutes. If I don't see it — you're dead!
— You won't see it, — Shiruko stated calmly. — I bought something.
— Bought? For twenty million credits? What?
— Kate.
For a second, Lan thought he'd misheard.
— What did you buy? — he repeated.
— I bought Kate back. He'll be here in two weeks.
The father's eyes rounded in incomprehension, then clouded over with pure, undisguised rage.
— You spent money on that bastard?
— On my brother. — looking his father straight in the eyes, Shiruko declared.
— Ten million each for DNA marker modification went into you two, — Lan said, suddenly calming down. — I barely got eight back from selling the defective unit. And now you spent twenty on that trash? Is he really worth that much?
— He's worth what I paid for him.
Lan grinned:
— I sure hope so, — and explained: — I hope I can recoup my money after the resale.
— You won't do that again, — Shiruko said in a trembling voice. — I'll report you.
Lan laughed:
— No doubt you would. So until I deal with that bastard, you're under arrest. I'll inform your superiors.
He turned, taking a step toward the door, expecting pleas and begging for mercy from Shiruko. But instead, he felt a rapid movement toward his back. He didn't even have time to turn around.
Shiruko jumped, his left hand grabbing the knife, his right hand seizing his shoulder, and, pulling himself up, drove the blade into the base of his skull — where the cervical vertebrae meet the cranium. A precise strike, unworthy of a warrior.
The General didn't make a sound. His body went limp and collapsed heavily to the floor, already dead. Only in the last moment, as he fell, Lan saw above him the face of his son — twisted with furious madness — the very same "rat" he despised even more than his eldest son.
At that moment, Vice cautiously peered through the half-open door, drawn by the noise. His eyes widened when he saw Shiruko's face and gaze. Frightened, he recoiled, silently closing the door, holding his breath and praying to every god he knew that Shiruko hadn't noticed him.
Shiruko stood over the body, breathing heavily. Drops of blue blood fell deafeningly loudly onto the polished stone floor.
A couple of seconds after Lan went still, Shiruko activated his comm:
"Problem"
"Already know?"
"I have a problem. Father just died unexpectedly. With a knife in his throat. And what should I know about?"
"Kate escaped right after the surgery. Somehow managed to use the implant, hell knows how. Location couldn't be determined"
Shiruko swallowed, his saliva suddenly thick.
"Received"
He lowered his hand with the comm and slowly walked over to the laptop. He needed to get to work: dispose of the body, cover his tracks. But instead, he mechanically tapped his finger, bringing the machine out of sleep mode.
The screen flashed. And right in the center, over all his encrypted windows and reports, an unread incoming message blinked. Sent three minutes ago.
He clicked on it.
"Subject K-9 escaped from the medical center after implant installation. Location unknown. Funds non-refundable."
And now, two years later, he sat on the bunk, clenching his fists, swallowing that same thick saliva.
— No, — he muttered, and tried to get up. — That's not going to work. You won't escape from me again.
An hour later, the captain appeared on the bridge, where the usual routine work was buzzing. Scanner holograms flickered in the air, the Vorlocks exchanged short remarks. Kate silently joined the process. But Doug quickly realized something was wrong with the kid. All his answers were off. His eyes were unfocused. His hands were shaking. Right now, Kate was at the cartography table, pretending to study the route. His fingers were frozen over the projection, though his gaze was unfocused, staring into emptiness.
— ...and check the stabilizers, — he said monotonously, not even realizing he'd just given an order.
Doug frowned.
— What stabilizers? Are you drunk or what? — he sniffed demonstratively loudly. — Doesn't smell like it. Are you serious right now? We're docking with an automated planetary satellite? Just so you know, we're at sublight speed.
Kate slowly turned his head, as if only now noticing Doug. His eyelids fluttered, his gaze becoming focused for a second.
— I'm tired, — he muttered, turning back to the map.
— Sure, sure. Spend five days in the medbay. I'd start babbling too, — Doug nodded, exchanging a bewildered look with Flor.
The latter just shrugged.
At that moment, the bridge door creaked open.
Shiruko, pale as death, holding onto the wall, barely crossed the threshold. His usually neatly combed hair fell messily over his forehead, and a blue stain was clearly visible through his shirt on his shoulder.
— Oh, look who's alive! — Flor called out cheerfully, the first to notice the newcomer.
— Tummy all better? — Doug asked sarcastically.
Shiruko smiled weakly in response, but his eyes immediately found Kate. For a split second, awkward silence hung in the cabin.
Kate didn't turn around, pretending to be completely absorbed in studying the anti-gravity clamp blueprints.
— Captain, can I start working? — Shiruko asked in a weak voice.
— Need to check the relays, — Kate reported the task calmly.
Doug's pupils widened. Had the captain completely lost his mind? Sending a kid who could barely stand — to check the relays?
— The relays? — Shiruko repeated, nearly kissing the instrument panel.
— If you can't work — get the hell to the infirmary, — Kate cut him off without turning his head.
— I can work, — Shiruko replied quietly, pulling an indicator from the toolbox.
Doug shifted his gaze from the captain to Shiruko, then back, then to the bewildered Flor. His nostrils flared, as if he'd caught a scent. However, the assistant wisely kept quiet, pretending he hadn't noticed anything.
Two weeks later, the bar on the orbital station "Hermes" was almost empty. Two figures lounged in chairs in the corner, savoring the local moonshine.
— Kate's completely lost it, — Flor slowly twirled an empty glass in his long fingers. — Today he sent Shiruko to escort prisoners to the brig instead of calling a convoy. And Shiruko didn't even squeak. Has the Observer lost his mind too? I don't get what's going on with them.
Doug just snorted, pouring himself another shot of moonshine.
— If I were Shiruko…
— If you were Shiruko, you'd be dead by now, — Doug cut Flor off. — My advice: don't stick your nose where it doesn't belong — you'll live longer.
Flor was about to object, but Doug got a message.
— New mission, — he announced, jumping up from his chair.
— What is it?
Doug tossed the pilot a holographic sheet.
MISSION:
Planet KP-563 (codename: "Solar")
Reason for sweep:
2 Vorlock Observers killed (bodies decapitated, displayed in the square).
Colony refused to supply uranium quota.
Declared independence from the Empire.
Orders:
Liquidate leadership (mayor, council, security chief).
Remaining population — loyalty screening.
Departure in 20 minutes.
Stepping over the airlock threshold, Doug and Flor froze in their tracks. A picture-perfect scene lay before them. The Observer was sitting on a crate of ammunition. A purple stripe ran from his left cheekbone to the bridge of his nose, as if he'd been struck with a red-hot rod. Doug slowly shifted his gaze to Kate. He stood by the navigator, whiter than snow. His pupils were like narrow blades. Glancing helplessly at Flor, Doug noted with surprise that the pilot had turned green with fear at the sight.
— Great, — Doug muttered, — all that's left is for me to turn blue with joy, and we'll have the full color spectrum.
— Prepare for departure, — the captain commanded.
The flight passed in oppressive silence.
Doug caught himself holding his breath so as not to break the silence. Flor never took his eyes off the instrument panel. Shiruko disassembled and reassembled his weapon for the hundredth time.
And the captain... The captain didn't move, frozen in his chair, staring into the black void of space beyond the viewport.
Colony KP-563 met them with unnatural silence.
The white buildings of the administrative complex were blinding. No smoke, no signs of struggle — just two headless bodies crucified in the square.
Kate walked first, his footsteps echoing loudly through the empty street.
Inside the administrative building, a group of people huddled at the entrance. Kate, without asking where the leadership was, raised his weapon.
Shot. Shot. Shot. More and more. The people, stunned for the first few seconds, began to scatter.
Kate turned, and Doug finally saw some expression in his eyes — rage.
— Full sweep, — he commanded and moved after the fleeing.
Flor slid after him like a shadow.
Doug looked helplessly at Shiruko. The Observer stood in the doorway with an impassive face. Only the blue-purple scar bulged on his pale skin.
Somewhere in the right corridor, frequent shots rang out.
— Not ours, — Shiruko identified the weapon type by sound.
He yanked the pistol from its holster and ran toward the sound, Doug on his heels.
They burst into a spacious hall. Five guards in uniform vests were holed up behind overturned tables. Shiruko went pale. Kate was standing almost in the open, reloading his weapon. A column only half-covered his body. He raised his weapon. Two shots, and one guard dropped.
— Explosive rounds, — Doug commanded, and Shiruko switched the filter.
Shiruko and Doug worked in sync, like parts of a single mechanism. Four seconds later, all five lay on the floor.
Kate turned, his chest heaving. In his eyes — not gratitude, but furious rage. Without a word, he punched Shiruko in the gut with all his strength — right in the fresh wound.
Shiruko doubled over, coughing up blood. Doug involuntarily winced — even watching it hurt.
— Did I ask for your help?! — Kate screamed, losing the last of his composure. — Why do you keep sticking your nose into my life?!
Suddenly Shiruko straightened. His eyes, usually calm, blazed with cold fire. With a quick motion, he swept Kate's legs — Kate, not expecting it, crashed to the floor. Before he could get up, Shiruko pinned him with his knee, twisted his wrist with one hand, and pressed the other against his throat.
— How long do I have to put up with your tantrums? — Shiruko hissed, and for the first time, undisguised steel rang in his voice.
Kate jerked, trying to break free, but Shiruko only pressed his knee harder.
— I didn't ask for help! — Kate shouted, but there was no rage in his voice anymore — only humiliation and shock.
— I'm sick of you! Can't calm down? Just shoot me already and get it over with!
The next moment, a cold pistol barrel pressed against Shiruko's temple. Kate was breathing heavily, his hand shaking.
— Just shoot! — Shiruko yelled, releasing his brother.
Dead silence fell over the hall. Only Kate's heavy breathing was audible as he got to his feet.
— Shoot!
Kate bit his lip until it bled, suddenly exhaled, and fired. Again and again and again. The bullets flew past, burning Shiruko's cheek, but Kate couldn't stop until he'd emptied the entire magazine. He ejected the empty clip, tossed it aside, and inserted a new one without looking.
— Enough! — Doug barked, finally snapping out of his stupor. — Are you out of your fucking mind?
Kate flinched at Doug's shout, as if coming to his senses.
— Having a dance-off on a mission! You puppies!
Flor, who'd been dealing with the locals in another wing, ran to the shots:
— What the fuck is going on here…
— The kids were figuring out who's boss, — Doug said shortly.
Kate was shaking; he waved his hand limply:
— Finish the sweep. And call in an investigation team, — he said, utterly hollowed out.
On the way back, Kate kept silent until Shiruko appeared on the bridge. The kid threw several sheets of paper in front of him.
— What's this?
— My report to the committee.
— Don't care, — the Captain replied listlessly. — Write whatever you want.
But Shiruko was already gone, not waiting for his reaction. Kate's gaze landed on the last line of the report, after the list of liquidated targets: "The captain's actions were in accordance with protocol. Mission completed with 99.9% efficiency."
A week later, Shiruko, having removed a panel, was methodically sorting through short-circuit and overcurrent relays, checking each sensor. Suddenly, he felt a threat at his back.
— What? — he asked without turning around.
— Why do I matter to you? — he heard Kate's voice.
Shiruko put down the indicator and turned. For a split second, it looked like he was drunk. But no — Kate could barely stand from exhaustion.
— You're my brother, — Shiruko answered simply.
— That won't fly! — Kate shook his head. — Save those fairy tales for little girls.
— I've said it a thousand times already. You are my brother! — Shiruko clenched his fists and, taking a step forward, finished decisively: — You fucking idiot.
Blood rushed to Kate's face, his cheeks turning blue:
— Why do I matter to you?
— Why? — Shiruko measured Kate with his gaze. — You're my gift. My favorite thing! And I'll do whatever I want with you!
— So I'm a broken toy you can't bring yourself to throw away? — Kate asked, enraged.
His fingers began to tremble, his lips pressed together. He drew a knife and drove it into the open relay panel. Cut wires sparked. The ship lurched.
Snarling, Kate stormed out of the helm. A door slammed somewhere, followed by the thud of boots.
— What happened? — Doug ran toward him.
— The relays, — Kate spat through his teeth and walked away.
Doug looked into the helm.
— You fucking moron! — he couldn't help himself when he saw the damage. — You goddamn psycho! He won't stop until he's killed us all.
Armed with a screwdriver, he dove into the instrument's innards, stoically cursing all of the captain's relatives, near and far. But suddenly Doug fell silent. His keen ears caught the presence of someone else in the technical compartment.
— Who's there? Come out, — he invited the mysterious observer without looking up from his work.
The latter took two nearly silent steps and stepped into the light.
— You? Enjoying the results? — Doug cranked a joint with effort. — Well, there you go. Look.
— Well, there you go. I'm looking, — Shiruko said with a sarcastic smile, leaning against the bulkhead.
— This is never-ending. Yesterday the compressors, today the relays… — Doug paused for a second, trying to hook a stubborn wire. — If you keep pushing him like this, next time Kate will blow the engine. And we're in space, by the way.
Doug finally finished and stared at the Observer.
— Listen, Shiruko, I'm not going to get involved in your fights, but could you maybe train your brother in a neutral setting? Like on a planet? Although what you pulled on that planet…
Shiruko's lips spread apart, baring sharp teeth:
— Figured it out?
— No kidding. Unidentified but clearly a threat. No Observers. Perfect excuse for some exercise. Made Kate remove the engine so he couldn't run anywhere. What were you testing? — Doug squinted and asked with a sly smile. — Whether Kate could die for you? That was a shitty test — you almost died yourself.
Shiruko shrugged:
— Side effect.
— What are you after? — Doug frowned. — Do you want him to shoot you in a fit of rage? Why are you breaking him?
The Observer turned silently, sharply opened the door, and declared, looking straight into his brother's eyes — who'd been eavesdropping on their conversation:
— I want him to understand that you can live without leaning on the past.
Kate froze for a moment, biting his lip. But almost instantly, he pulled himself together.
— Doug, — he turned to his assistant. — A cargo ship should be arriving soon. Receive them.
Doug nodded and disappeared.
Kate was left alone with his brother.
— What? — he asked Shiruko.
Shiruko didn't answer.
— You overdid it with the theatrical effects, — Kate remarked, and mimicking Shiruko, repeated his words: — "I want him to understand that you can live without leaning on the past." Pff. Corny.
Shiruko smiled:
— What progress. Not attacking with your fists?
Instead of answering, Kate clicked on his wrist bracelet. The screen lit up, and a holographic sheet jumped up.
Shiruko's brows drew together; his face frowned in displeasure:
— You've been rummaging through my cabin?
— So what? — Kate confirmed without a hint of shame or remorse. — Don't you rummage through mine?
Shiruko slapped his hand over the test results and the reclassification request.
— Don't do that again, — he suddenly asked his brother politely.
Kate pulled the sheet from under his palm and read the order aloud:
— "Request for reclassification.
Subject: Kate.
Current status: recommended for termination.
Proposed status: eliminator.
Justification: uncontrollable aggression, survival reflexes prioritized above all else, absence of moral constraints and emotional attachment.
Attachment: video record of incident with medical personnel.
Guarantor: Shiruko Stanley.
Degree of guarantee: life."
Shiruko was silent, neither trying to explain nor stop Kate.
— Classified, — Kate announced, turning the image between his fingers. — There's even a warning here — destroy after reading. I wonder what happens to an agent who handles case materials so carelessly? Although… — he snapped his fingers, and the hologram vanished. — It's highly doubtful you'd be careless. It's probably another one of your "demonstration" experiments. To say to me: "Look, little brother, I had orders, but I'm protecting you — you owe me."
Shiruko laughed:
— Well, there you go. You're starting to think instead of just hissing with rage.
In response to the laugh, Kate's pupils stretched into a thread.
— Yes, I'm starting to think. And the first question that comes up is: what are you doing on this shitty ship? You have rank, connections, money…
— Had, — Shiruko interrupted him. — Until I, like an idiot, decided to buy some moron out of slavery.
Kate blinked:
— So that was... you? — his voice cracked.
— Who else? — Shiruko replied, staring somewhere at the wall.
Kate swallowed.
— Why the fuck did I run then? — his voice was pure, childlike bewilderment.
Shiruko slowly shifted his gaze to him.
— Because you're an idiot. And I'm tired of repeating that.
11
Two weeks later, Kate was returning from his shift on the bridge. Star charts swarmed before his eyes.
— Shit, I need to find a navigator, — he muttered, finally convinced he needed to increase the crew. — But who'd agree to serve with psychopaths? Unless Shiruko scares someone like Vice half to death.
He turned into the corridor where his brother's cabin was located and heard muffled groans. Frowning, Kate crossed to the door in two steps.
— What's with him?
The door was locked, but Kate used his implant to crack the code. The room was dark, but Kate could make out his brother thrashing on the bed. The blanket was on the floor, the sheet twisted — he was having a nightmare.
— It's okay, — Kate placed his palm on his brother's shoulder and pressed him into the bunk. — I'm here. It's alright.
Shiruko jerked, then froze. His breathing eased. His eyelids fluttered, and he opened his eyes. With a murky gaze, Shiruko stared at Kate.
— You? How did you get in?
— The door was open, — Kate replied without blinking.
— You're lying.
— It was open, — Kate repeated, bending down for the blanket. — I was walking to my cabin. Saw you'd kicked it off.
Shaking out the blanket, Kate tossed it carelessly onto the bunk.
— You idiot, — Shiruko kicked the blanket back to the floor with his foot.
— Fine, you don't have to thank me, — Kate snorted and headed for the door.
— Don't go, — Shiruko breathed out silently, his fingers curling into fists.
Kate didn't hear it — he felt it. The air trembled. He turned and stared at his brother, curled into a ball on the bed. He stepped back and dropped to one knee, his eyes level with Shiruko's.
— What's with you? — he asked quietly.
Shiruko clenched his teeth.
And then Kate raised his hand and, almost weightlessly, ran it through the dark hair. He ruffled the top of his head and, briefly but firmly, pressed his brother's head into his shoulder.
Shiruko froze for a second... two... and then he exhaled.
Kate waited in silence until he calmed down and his brother's breathing became even. Then he released him, laid him back on the bed, and pulled the blanket up.
— Sleep, — he ordered, and left, leaving the door slightly ajar.
The next morning, the silence of the captain's cabin was shattered by a sharp incoming signal. Kate, fiddling with a plasma cutter, didn't even look up.
A message from the Committee.
He'd managed to intercept the line, but he didn't have the knowledge to decrypt the correspondence.
Yet.
— Whatever, he'll crawl over and report himself, — Kate muttered, greasing his rig. — Probably another goddamn mission.
Shiruko appeared an hour later. Kate silently wiped his hands on a greasy rag and prepared to call a general assembly. But Shiruko held out a holographic passport to his brother.
— Congratulations, — he said grimly. — Order 4276 has been revoked. Your status is now free citizen. You can connect your implant to the Informatorium and access the databases — not just watch cartoons anymore.
A sardonic grin immediately danced on Kate's lips.
— Wow! So now I can rustle through other people's secrets like you? — he twirled the holographic passport in his fingers with obvious pleasure. — Speaking of implants. How did you manage to lose your eye? Is being a headquarters rat really that dangerous?
— I saw your photo two years ago and wanted to look like my big brother…
Shiruko's reply was quiet and calm, but the grin instantly vanished from Kate's face. Like someone had flipped a switch. He froze, staring at his brother. A terrible, unbearable picture assembled itself in his mind. He didn't even need details. That one sentence was enough.
He tried to regain control of his emotions at any cost. And Kate latched onto the only thing he knew — rage and sarcasm.
— Well, aren't you happy for your brother? — Kate stared into Shiruko's pale face. — Why are your eyes red?
Thoughts swarmed in his head, throwing up scenarios. Not even two seconds passed before the corners of Kate's lips twitched and spread apart.
— Your complaint against the Corporation got denied? — the captain blurted out, and saw he'd hit the mark. Shiruko tucked his head into his shoulders with an almost imperceptible movement. Kate laughed, but the laugh came out hollow: — Well, that's rich. And what, you cried?
Shiruko ground his teeth.
— Shut your trap! — he snapped, clenching his fists.
— Tsk, tsk, tsk, so uncivilized, — Kate, not hiding his pleasure, savored his rage. — If you use that kind of language in official documents, no wonder they told you to get lost with your complaints. A complaint, — Kate snorted contemptuously. — What a joke. Although… for a rat, I suppose it's acceptable. Fine, you're dismissed. Come by tonight — we're celebrating my citizenship.
Shiruko flew out of the captain's cabin, nearly knocking the pilot off his feet.
— What's with him again? Did Kate have another attack of brotherly love? — Flor muttered, watching Shiruko slam his cabin door — followed by muffled snarling. — Damn. Maybe I should install a lock on my cabin — like a bomb shelter from these psychos.
After a good snarl, Shiruko crawled out of his cabin and trudged back to the captain.
— Well? — Kate stared at his brother suspiciously.
— Sign it, — Shiruko ordered, tossing a resignation letter onto the table.
— What did you come up with now? You think I'll get upset, start asking what's wrong, beg you to stay?
Kate clenched his fingers, activating his holographic palm print, pressed his hand to the document, and threw the sheet at Shiruko.
— Get lost, — he said, staring point-blank at his brother's scrawny figure.
Shiruko slowly took the sheet, folded it, and with a snap, inserted it into his comm.
— Thank you, — he thanked calmly, and turned.
The Observer was almost out the door when a hurricane crashed down on him. Kate grabbed Shiruko's shoulder, yanked him back, and roughly slammed him against the metal bulkhead.
Before Shiruko could react, the captain seized his shoulders, pressing him into the cold steel, and shook him so hard his head snapped back.
— What the hell are you throwing away your toys for?! — Kate screamed, his face twisted with rage just inches from his brother's. — You declare me your thing! And now you're leaving? You don't get to abandon me!
Shiruko winced, not the least bit frightened, even though Kate had sprayed his face with spittle.
— Have you been drinking? Diesel fuel? — he asked, pinching his nose. — What an exhaust. Even a respirator wouldn't help.
— Well? What set you off? — Kate pressed, still not releasing Shiruko but pulling back slightly. — Because of the Corporation? What do you care about some merchants?
Shiruko was silent, staring at the floor. Kate shook him by the shoulders:
— Answer me! Well?!
— The Corporation won't exist, — Shiruko finally hissed.
— Wow, — Kate was surprised by the decisive tone. — What did they do to you?
— They dared to buy you. And then, when it turned out you had a 1+ marker, they dared to sell you beyond the Empire's borders — to humans. The Corporation won't exist, — Shiruko declared, completely calm now.
Goosebumps ran down Kate's skin from his brother's icy calm. He swallowed the saliva that had pooled in his mouth and carefully said:
— You said yourself — there's not enough evidence.
— That's because there were humans on the planet. If I find a planet with Vorlocks… Shit, I have a hundred pieces of evidence, but they're all circumstantial. I need at least one — direct. That would give me a foothold to start an investigation. Human trafficking, drug manufacturing, illegal experiments — anything, I just need to find Vorlocks.
— Wait! — Kate stopped his brother. — No need to look for anyone. There's already a Vorlock here, and he's ready for the job.
— Are you out of your mind? You want me to let my favorite toy…
— Shiruko! — Kate cut him off. — Tell me about your circumstantial evidence. Let's figure out together how to find something direct.
Shiruko sighed heavily, his cold, calculating eyes sliding over his brother's face, as if assessing whether it was worth the time.
— Fine. But if I start — you listen to the end and don't interrupt.
Kate nodded, crossing his arms.
Shiruko pulled a mini-projector from his pocket and activated the hologram — graphs, tables, and ship routes floated before them.
— It all started with the colonies. I cross-referenced population decline data in three sectors — where the Corporation has the most influence. And here's what I noticed: every time a colony records a sharp population drop — whether it's an epidemic, a "man-made disaster," or just "unrecorded migration" — Corporation ships appear in that same sector.
The hologram shifted, showing a timeline.
— First case — colony "New Dawn." Officially — an outbreak of an unknown virus, two thousand dead. But a week after quarantine, a cargo transport arrived. A month later, Corporation "Vector" released a new immunomodulator supposedly "developed from unique biomaterials."
Kate frowned.
— Human trafficking?
— Processing. — Shiruko ran his finger over the data, highlighting lines. — Look: in the reports, these sums go through as "humanitarian aid" or "compensation for territorial use." But if you dig deeper — the money goes to offshore accounts, and from there, part of it returns as "sponsorship contributions" to the Corporation.
Kate whistled.
— Clean scheme.
— Yeah. But that's not all. — Shiruko switched the hologram. — Second: drugs. Every time a new drug appears on the black market — something like "Blood Fog" or "Vorlock's Tear" — large payments immediately appear in the financial reports. Disguised as "rare mineral trade" or "transport corridor rental." And that's not all. Vorlock disappearances.
— Disappearances? — Kate asked.
— The most interesting part. I found records of several employees who tried to initiate a financial audit of the Corporation's accounts through the Tribunal. They all went missing. And a couple of weeks later, Corporation "Vector" published reports on a "breakthrough in Vorlock extreme physiology research."
Kate went pale, but a sardonic grin twisted his lips:
— That research just gave me a flashback… Unforgettable memories…
— Vorlocks who dared to speak out — were either eliminated or sent to laboratories. The labs constantly need fresh material for research, and every six months on planet KP-338, a slave auction is held, disguised as a labor recruitment drive for the Corporation's needs…
Kate cut Shiruko off mid-sentence:
— Perfect. You'll sell me at the auction — and there's your direct evidence.
Shiruko stared at Kate, unsure if he was joking or not.
— Are you serious?
— What's the problem? I've got experience, — Kate grinned.
— No way! — the younger brother objected. — You'll sell me instead.
Kate curled his lip contemptuously:
— Have you looked in the mirror? Who'd buy you? A runt.
Shiruko, seething, sucked in air:
— You…
— Decided. We're selling me, — the captain announced, ignoring Shiruko. — I'm stronger, more durable, better looking. And you could make a nice profit! Well?
— Not happening, — Shiruko said, furrowing his brows. — We need an independent witness. And where do we get one? The auction is held on a planet where not even a dead mouse can get through. The perimeter is guarded by robots that can't be reasoned with.
— So we need someone who knows how to slip through. Someone who knows all the border tricks like the back of his hand, — Kate declared, and paused for a moment.
The brothers' eyes flashed with simultaneous realization:
— Doug!
— Doug!
Kate reached for his comm:
— Doug? — he crooned in a sweet voice.
On the other end of the line, there was a crash, followed by someone choking and coughing.
— Yes, Captain, — came the suddenly hoarse voice of the assistant.
— Come here. We have a job for you, — Kate ordered, beaming at Shiruko.
Soon the door shuddered, and the disheveled personal assistant appeared on the threshold. He glanced uncertainly around the room, searching for the trap, and took a very cautious step forward.
— Doug? — Shiruko immediately addressed him. — I'm selling Kate.
Kate, standing nearby, smiled smugly and nodded.
— At a slave auction, — Kate confirmed. — I hear you can make good money there.
The face of the now completely lost Doug expressed only one thought: "Where did I sin so badly? What did I do to deserve THIS?"
— Don't worry, — Shiruko continued, and that word alone sent Doug into a half-faint: — We're not selling you. As a former border guard — you'll be our witness. Well?
— What have you been drinking today? — Doug asked cautiously.
— I said don't worry, we've already thought it all out for you, — Shiruko declared, impatiently tapping his fist against his thigh. — You'll sneak onto KP-338, infiltrate the auction, witness the sale, and you're free.
— Great plan, — Kate confirmed. — I actually came up with it.
A brief pause hung in the air.
— I don't get it, Kate — did you finish some course on developing shitty plans? — Doug finally forced out. — This is suicide. Don't you understand that voluntarily going to KP-338 is like sticking your head in a nuclear reactor?! No!!!
— Doug, I think you've been dead too long, — Shiruko frowned. — Maybe it's time for you to die again?
— Go to hell! You psycho! I'm not going anywhere! I want to live, even if I'm dead!
Doug tried to dash out of the cabin, but Kate blocked the way, sticking out his foot.
— You're upsetting my brother, — the captain declared. — It feels like you're unhappy about something. Want to talk about it?
Doug felt his ribs start to ache.
— Fine, — he gave in. — Okay. But you do realize the perimeter is guarded by robots? No living Vorlock… — Doug noticed Shiruko's eyes light up and bit his tongue.
— Exactly! Living! And you've been dead for a long time. So the plan is perfect! — Shiruko declared, smiling triumphantly.
12
— Open the cargo bay, — E-205 ordered in a flat, emotionless voice.
The captain silently clicked the magnetic key. The robot rolled into the darkness, its neon scanner flashing. His partner, E-44, was puzzled: what was the boss looking for on this run-down passenger liner? Usually a "bribe" — a couple of crates of contraband — was planted in plain sight, but here it was suspiciously clean.
— Forty-Four, check the engine. I'll search the cabins, — came the command.
E-44 obediently headed to the engine room. The sensors immediately beeped: radiation. Peering into the turbine, he noticed a strange green glow in the depths.
— Sir, there's something in the turbine.
— Shut down the engine! — came the instant order.
When the blades stopped, it became clear: the space under the reactor was packed with transparent cryo-capsules.
— Twenty-five illegals. No documents. All dead, — E-205 stated, displaying the fine amount on the screen. — Frozen. Six thousand five hundred credits. No checks.
While the captain haggled with gusto, smearing tears about thirty hungry children, the robots began loading onto the police cutter. The captain trailed after E-205 onto his turf, continuing to whine about a discount.
E-44, opening one of the capsules, reached for the gold chain around the neck of a tall, red-haired passenger with a pale face. Suddenly, the "corpse" jerked, and foam gushed from his lips.
— Sir, there's a survivor here! A Vorlock!
Without looking up from the haggling, E-205 ordered:
— Check his documents.
The stranger presented a citizen's card in the name of Douglas Greenwood. E-44 ran the numbers through the databases and read the result.
— That's weird, some kind of glitch? — he was surprised. — In the registry, you're listed as deceased — one year, seven months, and fourteen days ago. Cause of death: fell into a reactor collector on KP-3338 after a bender at the bar "Moondust." There's even a grave.
E-205 pulled the customs officer through the airlock and sealed the boarding tube. Circling around Doug and drilling him with a scanning laser, E-205 began the interrogation:
— Why doesn't your current location match the data? You should be lying in a grave right now.
— Decided to take a tourist trip, — Doug answered glumly. — What, if you're dead, you don't have the right to a vacation?
— The planet is not intended for tourist trips by citizens who have completed their life cycle, — E-44 stated grimly.
— So what do I do? Pay a fine for being absent from my registered grave? — Doug grinned.
— No, just look at him, — E-205 began to slowly but surely overheat. — "Pay a fine," he says. And how am I supposed to register it? You're dead!
A stream of smoke burst from the robot's upper valve.
— You think if you're dead, everything's allowed? E-44, just look at this meat! Not enough that they're masters of life. Now they're coming for us from the afterlife too. You think I can't issue a fine because you're dead? I'll kill you again. Minus times minus equals plus. I'll kill you, register you as resurrected, and fine you!
— Sir, — E-44 tried to cool his boss's ardor, activating the hull cooling system. — This action is not not covered by the labor code.
— Fuck the code! — E-205 screamed, grabbing Doug by the neck with his manipulators. — Fuck the first law of robotics! Money! The fine, you bastard! — he yelled, finally losing control of his logic circuits. — You'll pay every last credit! And then I'll kill you! No, first I'll kill you, register you as alive, and then you'll pay the fine. And then I'll kill you again to restore the status quo!
— Boss, you know you can't kill someone twice, — E-44 tried to reason with his superior. — You'll just lose money. How will he transfer the credits if you kill him? Your circuits are overheating. We need to call technicians.
But Two-O-Five was no longer responding. The robot, having completely lost its mind, spun its upper body and promised, releasing a gray wisp of smoke from its speaker:
— I'll finish him off, and then I'll come for you.
E-44 recoiled in fright, pulling a plasma cutter from the storage compartment. Doug, unsuccessfully trying to break free from the tenacious manipulators, still managed to see it and realized that the robots could easily burn through the cutter's hull. A flash of fire cut across Two-O-Five's body and, reflecting, hit the bulkhead, leaving a melted hole. If the robot had been seven centimeters to the left, the plasma bolt would have hit the viewport directly.
— What?! — Two-O-Five roared. — Firing on a superior officer? That's a breach of discipline! I'll rot you on fieldwork, you'll be cleaning sewers, I'll take you apart and use you as a filter!
Eyes glowing, the enraged robot drew his own cutter and fired at his partner. Waiting for the insane machines to turn each other and the ship into a pile of molten metal was not in Doug's plans. Trying to pry open the steel grips was pointless, but Two-O-Five moved on wheels. That meant he could be pushed. Noticing that his partner was aiming for another shot, the red-haired man threw his whole weight against the stranglehold and rolled him forward, into the line of fire.
The plasma bolt hit the processor block. Immediately, the nauseating smell of burnt metal filled the air. E-44 jumped back from his boss in fright, shouting:
— Holy shit!
A split second while Doug tried to catch his breath was spent figuring out how to proceed. Throwing the empty cutter at the tourist's feet, the robot declared:
— You killed E-205! I'm reporting this to the spaceport immediately.
But the robot never got the chance. Doug yanked the cutter from Two-O-Five's manipulators and fired almost the entire charge into the customs officer.
— Great start, — the failed tourist said with irony. — Haven't even landed yet, and I've already got a list of violations against the Corporation about three meters long.
However, he didn't have long to lament the mission's bad start. The ship, deprived of remote control from Two-O-Five, which had been correcting the course, lurched, entering a ballistic descent. Kicking aside the pile of metal that five minutes ago had been the gatekeepers, Doug rushed to the control panel. Unpleasant surprise — there was no pilot's seat. Apparently, the customs skimmers hadn't bothered with a full complement, since two robots were working on board. Bent over the sensors, Doug tried to plot a landing curve, constantly missing with his fingers due to the rather sensitive jolts.
The next few minutes were spent trying to level the cutter, or at least slow it down. With difficulty, Doug managed to reduce speed and, dumping fuel, bring it down in the area of an old, long-abandoned spaceport in the Seventh Sector. The cutter, practically on its last legs, crashed to the ground without any shock absorbers. The impact was so strong that the pre-landing shaking now seemed like gentle etheric ripples. For a while, he lay still, only listening to his body, trying to determine if any bones were broken.
— Pilot I am... — he cursed hoarsely, crawling out of the wreckage. — Missed the mark by four keystrokes.
The sun would soon set below the horizon, and the temperature would drop below zero. Doug returned to the cutter. He needed to destroy it along with all the evidence. Short-circuiting the contacts in the old reactor, he jumped out of the cutter and dove behind a concrete shed.
The next seconds felt like an eternity. The reactor exploded, scorching everything around with radioactive heat. Luckily, the reactor was practically depleted, so the explosion was low-yield, and the concrete wall held. Barely noticing the flash, Doug screamed, opening his mouth. His mouth immediately filled with something bitter with a nasty iron aftertaste. He coughed, violently spitting out the sand that had gotten into his open mouth. A sharp smell of rust and rotten eggs hit his nose. Doug quickly pulled a protective mask over his face.
— Smells like hell, — he mumbled through the adsorbent layer.
About five minutes later, when the radioactive heat subsided, he moved toward the Lower Quarters.
Climbing over a volcanic ridge and descending to the elevator platform, Doug passed through an almost imperceptible gravitational boundary and found himself in the "Lower Quarter."
At first, he almost choked on the aromas emanating from the half-open doors of dwellings and food carts.
— What a stench, — he croaked.
His throat, burned by radiation and chlorine atmosphere, was already painfully raw. Against his will, he reached for the respirator again. But the respirator was of little use — the filter was already clogged, and the stench seeped through the gauze packed with crushed charcoal.
The number of people scurrying along the narrow street was insane: mutants with horribly disfigured faces; freaks with implants.
Doug, tucking his only weapon — a folding knife — deeper into his pocket, moved toward the "Upper Quarters" — downward. The narrow streets were quite crowded. People in bright orange jumpsuits, modified hygi in toxic blue, strange gnomes — everything mixed together like in a giant cauldron, seasoned with overwhelming aromas.
Doug's fears that he wouldn't be able to blend into the crowd proved unfounded. No one paid any attention to anyone. People walked, talked on comms, chewed flatbread, sold things, washed dishes, did laundry, chased unruly children — in short, life in the colony was boiling over.
The transmitter in his inner ear beeped.
— I'm in the city, — Doug whispered.
— Good. — he immediately heard a calm, familiar voice in reply.
— Only the ship's gone.
Pause.
— What do you mean, gone?
— Bad landing.
Pause.
— I'll handle it, — Shiruko finally said, and got down to business: — Your target: Port Hangar No. 7. Third Ring, old docks.
Slipping past a robot patrol, Doug disappeared into the twilight of the Third Ring. The air was thick, saturated with fumes of oils and sewage. Hangar No. 7 stood out among the rusty structures only by its relatively intact roof.
Doug froze in the shadows, analyzing the situation. At the gates — two guards from the Vorlock special forces. Their pupils, adapted to the twilight, revealed increased photosensitivity. Standard patrol protocol: sector scanning at 27-second intervals. Any unaccounted acoustic or thermal spike within a 50-step radius would have led to immediate detection.
Instead of physically synchronizing with their rhythm, Doug activated a portable scrambler, creating background interference in the audio and infrared ranges. The guards perceived his movement as a random sensor glitch — a common occurrence in an area with high industrial interference. Using this brief "blind" interval, he silently covered the distance to the hangar wall.
Entry through the main entrance was not advisable. Instead, Doug used the service hatch of the ventilation system, locked with a simple electronic lock. A short pulse from the decoder suppressed the authentication circuit, allowing him to silently open the damper. Three seconds later, he was inside, leaving the guards to continue their routine perimeter patrol.
Stopping in the shadow of the ventilation shaft, he slowly surveyed the room. It looked like the auction preparations were in full swing. The dim bluish light of the spotlights was aimed at a low platform. The rest of the room was submerged in twilight. However, this didn't bother Doug. With his cat's eyes, he made out the black uniforms — medics. Nearby, a group of Corporation businessmen. And further on… Doug's eyebrows rose in surprise — humans? That was new.
The auctioneer clapped his hands:
— Let's begin!
The prisoners were brought out in batches. First, five Vorlocks under heavy tranquilizers — they could barely stand, eyes glazed, movements sluggish. Then a dozen humans with codes burned onto their foreheads — donors or test subjects, the difference no longer mattered.
The bidding was sluggish. The merchandise was nothing special, no looks, no form.
And finally — Kate.
He was brought out last, alone. In an energy collar — for the especially violent. Doug flinched when he saw his gaze — a wounded predator, mad with rage.
— Lot number seven, — announced the man who followed him out. — Kaitlyn Stanley. DNA marker 1-. Starting price, five thousand credits.
The crowd stirred.
— Six million.
— Seven.
— Eight and a half!
A profiteer reselling the merchandise scanned the hall predatorily.
— First-class merchandise, — he announced. — Don't be shy.
— Oh, come on, — a skeptical voice came from the hall. — Looks like a beaten dog.
The profiteer grinned, running his finger over the collar's remote:
— See for yourself.
The crowd parted, letting through a smug army colonel. He approached the prisoner uncertainly, giving him a contemptuous look.
Kate froze, his chest convulsively tightening. His gaze cleared.
— And what's there to check? — the colonel grinned. — Shaking and stinking of fear…
He didn't get to finish. Kate lunged forward. His fingers dug into the colonel's throat, tearing through the muscles. Blood sprayed from the ruptured artery. The colonel wheezed, convulsively gasping for air.
The crowd gasped. Someone shouted: "Shoot him!"
But the profiteer raised his palm warningly and pressed a button. Kate collapsed to the floor, howling in pain. Doug clenched his fists, watching the profiteer keep his finger on the button for ten seconds.
— Anyone else have doubts? — the seller asked. — The bid rises to fifteen million!
— Twenty-five! — came from the crowd.
All eyes turned to a tall man in a corporate medic's uniform. Doug felt cold sweat run down his back. Mark — the medical team commander.
— Thirty! — Mark declared.
His cold eyes met Kate's, and he whispered something. Kate read the medic's lips: "The girl bites."
And his brain exploded, throwing him back ten years:
The academy corridor — endless enfilades of doors, the sterile smell of antiseptic and sweat. Lamps hum overhead. Kate swallowed convulsively and clenched his fists to keep from looking back and walking faster. Behind him, the same sound of heels was still audible — four pairs. Kate even knew who it was.
There were fifteen steps left to the turn, and then the classroom door. But he didn't make it.
A fist slammed into his shoulder, and Kate barely stayed on his feet.
— Hey, worm, didn't they teach you to yield to your elders?
Mark's mocking blue eyes stared at him. Kate clenched his teeth.
— Or do you think because daddy ordered you lieutenant's epaulets, you're in charge here?
Mark's three cronies slowly surrounded him, cutting off any escape. Kate instinctively stepped toward the wall to cover his back, and Mark didn't miss it.
— What is this, a ballet? — the senior snorted, mockingly examining the scrawny eight-year-old. — Is the ballerina preparing for a performance?
He suddenly lunged forward, simultaneously bending down, forcing Kate against the wall.
— What's wrong, Kaitlyn? — his lips curled and spread apart. — Forget your little skirt at home? And how's our little girl going to dance? Should we run and get you an outfit? We'll wait here.
He took a deceptive step to the side, as if clearing a path. Kate tried to break out of the encirclement but received a shove in the shoulder that threw him back against the wall so hard the air flew out of his lungs. Despite his frozen breathing, Kate tried to step forward again, but flew to the floor, not noticing the trip, and immediately took a kick to the gut.
He coughed, and the boys standing over him laughed.
— The girl's shy, — declared the one who'd tripped him, and also kicked him.
Kate tried to avoid the blow and rolled to his other side. The boot tip only slightly grazed his kidney. The attacker frowned and wound up for another blow. And then Kate jumped up like a released spring and, clenching his teeth, lunged forward.
For a few seconds, only snarling and the sounds of blows were heard. But there were more attackers, and they were stronger. Kate was soon grabbed by the arms and immobilized. Mark exhaled heavily, wiping blood from his split lip.
— This girl bites as well, — he wheezed. — Well, now don't cry.
He grabbed Kate by his blindingly white hair and yanked him down, face-first onto his raised knee.
And then a shot rang out. Mark howled, releasing the hair and collapsing to the floor. Shiruko flew into the center with a shocker in his hand, scattering the boys.
— This is my girl! — he shouted, looking at the attackers with mad eyes, the weapon in his hand shaking. — No one touches my brother! No one.
— Are you crazy?! — Mark groaned, trying to get up. — We were just joking.
He signaled with his eyes, and the boys seemed to dissolve into thin air.
— One more joke like that… — Shiruko didn't finish, simultaneously extending his hand to his brother.
— I get it, you fucking psycho.
Mark raised his palms in surrender and limped toward the infirmary, leaving drops of blood on the floor behind him.
— Let's go, — Shiruko said when Mark's footsteps faded around the corner. — Classes have already started.
— Leave me alone! — Kate, coming to his senses, pushed away Shiruko's outstretched hand and trudged to class, trying to wipe the blood from his bruised face.
After classes, Kate tried to sneak into his room unnoticed. But his father was waiting for him there.
Lounging on a small chair, he rocked from side to side, twirling a glass in his fingers.
— Finally showed up, — his father said slowly, and Kate understood that he was dead drunk. — They called from the academy.
Kate shrank, bracing for another beating.
— Your brother shot a senior today, sticking up for you, — Lan continued, and Kate felt his back go cold.
The General tipped the glass into his wide-open mouth, swallowed. Coughed and continued, staring at his son's frail figure with moist eyes:
— Shiruko, that puppy, stuck up for you. For his older brother. And you… do you even meet the DNA marker standards?
A scanner appeared in the General's hand. Grabbing Kate by the ear, he forced him to bend his head. Lan pressed the button for genetic sample collection, not noticing that his finger had caught the adjacent key. The device squealed, and the result "1-" appeared on the screen.
Lan cursed. Hard, dirty.
— Ten million and eight years down the drain! — he finally said when he could think coherently.
The decision came instantly. He headed for the exit, dragging Kate behind him.
— I hope it's not too late to get the money back and the deal deadline hasn't expired, — he announced, leaving the room. — At least five million.
— Thirty million! — Mark repeated, smiling coldly at Kate.
The seller was silent for three seconds, then nodded: "Sold!"
Mark stepped onto the stage and exchanged electronic seals with the profiteer.
— The deal is sealed, — Doug whispered.
— Go, — came Shiruko's steel voice in response. — The ship will be waiting for you at the second dock. Fully fueled and ready for takeoff.
Doug stepped out of the shadows. His fingers clenched the grenade. Kate, still pale from the pain, caught a familiar scent. Doug took three steps: the first — to the platform, the second — up with a simultaneous throw of the grenade into the hall. A blinding flash blinded everyone. The third leap — to the seller.
The profiteer sensed the movement, but it was too late. A pistol butt strike sent him to the floor. Doug grabbed the remote, crushed it with his heel. A boot flew into his face, throwing him aside.
— Kate! — Doug extended the impulse pistol.
Kate took the weapon with trembling fingers.
— To the exit! Where's the ship?
— Second dock! — Doug yelled, firing three charges into Mark's chest. The armor held, but he flew back against the wall.
— To the spaceport! — Kate commanded.
The dark alleys swallowed them, leaving behind smoke and blood.
13
The ship raced at superluminal speed, accelerating. Doug, cursing everything in existence, with a wildly pounding heart, dug into the control panel with sweaty fingers, trying to disable the previous captain's implanted gene-marker and unlock the controls. Drops of sweat, mixing with soot, ran down his temples, leaving dirty trails on his pale skin.
Behind him, Kate, with a grim expression, pressed Shiruko over the video link:
— You're a spy or what? Can't you get this goddamn collar off me?
Shiruko exhaled sharply, his usually calm, steady voice cracking:
— How am I supposed to take it off?! Remotely? Without specialized equipment? Thank Doug for destroying the remote!
Doug felt goosebumps run down his spine when Kate shifted his gaze from his brother to him.
— What do I have to do with it? — he snapped, dropping the screwdriver right onto the gravitational potential sensor. — I had to isolate that profiteer from the pleasure button. I did what I could.
— Now I have to strut around the border in this collar? — Kate pointed at the plasma cutter and commanded: — Cut it!
— I forbid it!
— Forbid? Easy for you to sit there and give orders. This was your idea, by the way, with that goddamn profiteer.
— Who knew he'd put a collar on you? — Shiruko tried to justify himself, lowering his tone.
— Knew or not, what now?
— What are you getting so worked up about? You'll arrive, I'll take it off.
— So Customs can see this? — Kate jabbed a finger at the collar.
— What's wrong with it?
— Imagine you have a sign around your neck saying 'I'm a stupid idiot.' — I already have you for that, — Shiruko shot back
— I already have you, — Shiruko shot back.
Kate snarled and, turning to Doug, ordered:
— Cut it!
— Just try it, Doug, and I'll hand you over to the Corporation for genetic experiments! — Shiruko began to threaten, losing all patience. — You'll go to the tribunal! I'll remember everything — your fight in the Saion docks, your dealings with the hygi, and… my dossier is enough for three life sentences in the Xylon mines.
— Don't listen to him! I'm the captain! Or do you want to take a walk outside?
— Well, I've got some great choices today. I'm just spoilt for choice, — Doug snorted, shifting his gaze from the screen, where Shiruko was clenching his fists, to Kate reaching for his pistol.
Deciding to choose the lesser of two evils, Doug pulled out his army knife and suggested:
— Shiruko, let me try once, carefully.
Shiruko sighed heavily.
— Fine. But only once.
— I'll be careful, — Doug promised, trying to slip the blade under the steel band. But the moment the knife approached the collar by a millimeter, Kate jerked like a fish on a hook, fell to the floor, and began convulsing.
Kate writhed on the floor, his muscles locked in uncontrollable spasms. Through the bloody haze of pain, his eyes fixed on the knife lying on the floor.
Shiruko was interrogating Doug:
— Can you tell, down to a fraction of a millimeter, at what distance from the blade the energy field reacted? And what was the discharge strength?
— What difference does it make, three or five millimeters? Look how it's twisting him.
Doug shifted aside, giving Shiruko a view of his brother's convulsions, and suddenly saw a familiar face behind the Observer's shoulder.
— Vice? — Doug was surprised. — Where did you come from?
Vice went pale, glanced sideways at the kid, and was about to open his mouth, but Shiruko answered for him:
— He missed us very much. And I allowed him to return.
Vice shut his mouth and silently nodded, confirming the Observer's version.
At that moment, Kate, gathering his last strength, lunged forward. His fingers slid across the floor and grabbed the handle. With a sharp motion, he slipped the blade into the gap between his skin and the collar and pierced the microchip, losing consciousness.
— Doug! — Shiruko screamed. — I'll personally shoot you the moment the ship arrives!
— What do I have to do with it? He himself… — Doug bent over Kate, carefully removed the opened collar, and checked his pulse. — He's alive, I think.
— Think? — Shiruko hissed from the screen.
— He's alive, relax. Guys like that don't die. He'll come around in about five minutes.
Shiruko exhaled:
— Good, — he announced, leaning back in his chair with obvious relief. — The ship is at cruising speed. You'll reach the border in five hours. By the way, I've filed a petition with the Tribunal and the Supreme Court regarding the violation of trade regulations. The Supreme Court has already sent bailiffs for the preliminary detention of the Corporation's top management. See you on the planet. Disconnecting.
Twenty-four hours later, the ship docked at the capital's spaceport.
Shiruko, dressed in his dress uniform, was waiting impatiently for his brother. Doug was the first to emerge from the open airlock, followed by Kate.
— Right on time, — Shiruko reported. — The tribunal session begins in two hours.
Kate nodded and, instead of a greeting, punched his brother in the jaw.
— That's for… — Kate changed his voice, mimicking Shiruko: — "Do as I say, and everything will be fine."
— Fair enough, — the Observer agreed, wincing in annoyance and wiping blood from his split lip.
Doug silently handed Shiruko the video recording of the purchase and sale with geo-referencing.
— Good, — Shiruko nodded, confirming everything was in order.
Kate moved forward. The Observer lingered for a moment, grabbing Doug's elbow.
— Run to the ship, — he ordered. — Tell Flor to keep the engines hot. The heap must be ready for takeoff.
Doug, no longer surprised by anything, just nodded silently and went to carry out the order.
The Main Headquarters' assembly hall met the Vorlocks with icy silence. Bare metal walls, devoid of any decoration, reflected the flicker of holographic combat sector maps. Behind a long polished steel table sat the tribunal members: three top-ranking officers. Behind them stood a senior officer. To the right, several chairs for the prosecution. To the left stood Mark, the slave trader, and several managers from the Corporation — everyone Shiruko had been able to reach.
Kate's gaze swept over the accused, lingering for a second on the profiteer's disfigured face.
— Sit in the gallery, — Shiruko whispered to Kate.
— Why the gallery? — Kate was surprised.
— I'll do everything myself. It's my job.
— No way, — Kate bristled. — I got the evidence.
— Yes. And I'll present it. Sit down. — Shiruko looked at Kate. — They'll provoke you. You won't hold back. I will.
Kate opened his mouth to protest but saw the expression in his brother's eyes, shrugged, and silently obeyed.
Shiruko nodded and sat down. In the field of his eye implant, familiar hieroglyphs appeared — the direct channel was active. He mentally sent a message:
" I'm going all the way. You'll owe me one for the Corporation."
The reply came almost instantly:
"And you'll owe me for the tribunal. You understand I'll send a squad?"
The corner of Shiruko's mouth twitched into something like a smile.
"Of course. I understand I have to pay."
Kate noticed the red flicker in Shiruko's eye and tensed.
"The squad will arrive immediately after the trial ends. You'll have ten minutes."
"Received," Shiruko confirmed mentally, and blinked, breaking the contact. The corner of his mouth smiled at Kate — everything's fine.
— Order! — the senior officer called for order. — The military tribunal session is now in session. Case: Imperial Internal Security Service vs. Trading Corporation "Vector." Captain Second Rank of the Internal Security Forces of the Military Fleet, Lord Shiruko Stanley, is invited to read the charges.
Shiruko rose from his chair and approached the table where the tribunal members sat.
— I, Shiruko Stanley, charge the board of the trading corporation "Vector" with the following violations of the Military Code: Article 17 — manufacture and distribution of medicinal, chemical, or narcotic preparations without the appropriate license and tax payments to the state treasury, — Shiruko continued the prosecution line imperturbably. — Submitted to the court's attention are accounting reports on the distribution of the stimulant biologically active additive "Blood Fog" through the pharmacy network in colony M-276.
The second judge pushed the documents away with contempt.
— This is a civil court matter. What do we care about drug sales to humans?
— Soon we'll be paying them wages for their work, — grinned the judge on the right.
— An administrative violation, — confirmed the judge on the left. — These documents should be forwarded to the civil court and tax inspection.
— I, Shiruko Stanley, charge Mark Shin, commander of the medical corps of the trading corporation "Vector," under Article 18 — intentional abandonment in danger before artificially created hostile non-biological life forms and desertion from colony KP-1318. — Shiruko stubbornly continued his line, providing new documents.
— All lies! — Mark cut Shiruko off, sensing the court's support. — You can't prove anything. Human testimony is not legally valid.
— Article 3 — treason against the Empire — use of Imperial citizens' genetic scrolls in illegal medical experiments. Followed by medical disposal of citizens using organs, blood, and genetic markers.
Shiruko, with a light movement of his fingers, sent the reports of the "Vector" Corporation's medical research center on the extreme physiology of Vorlocks and the purchase and sale acts of internal organs. The court members silently passed holographic pages to each other. Their faces darkened.
Mark jumped up from his seat:
— These were scientific studies of volunteers. I have receipts. After participating in the experiments, the citizens were sent for rehabilitation. I know nothing about what happened after.
— What receipts? — Thibault Smith suddenly jumped up from his seat. — What rehabilitation? You told me this was spent material! I have a document! You're not pinning this on me!
— Shut up, idiot! — Mark screamed.
Kate straightened up, clenching his fists. A barely concealed mockery flashed in his eyes.
— Order! — the officer barked. — Until the prosecution has been fully stated, discussions are prohibited.
— Article 54 — without flinching or changing expression, Shiruko continued: — Violation of the ban on trade transactions using free citizens of the Empire as objects of purchase and sale.
The hall gasped. The Vorlocks stirred. No one could even imagine that anyone would have the nerve to present such evidence against a Corporation in court.
— What? Slave trading? Through a Corporation? — the eldest jumped up indignantly. His eyes flashed angrily.
The others were also shocked.
— That can't be!
— Did I hear that right?
— A purchase and sale act, sealed with the personal seals of the living goods trader and the "Vector" Corporation representative Mark Shin, — Shiruko announced, laying out his final trump card. The hologram flew out of his wrist bracelet and unfolded above the heads of those present. — There are several more acts of sale of humans and Vorlocks who are not citizens of the Empire.
At that moment, Kate, who had been motionless until then, slowly placed his foot on the rung of the chair in front of him, wrapping his arms around his knee. The pose was deliberately casual, but every muscle in his arms was tense. His heavy, furious gaze locked onto Mark's eyes.
Having finished reading the charges, Shiruko straightened up. His eyes swept the hall, finding his brother. Kate could have sworn that somewhere deep in Shiruko's eyes, triumph flashed, along with a warning — "sit still." He forced himself to lean back in his chair and gave a barely perceptible nod — "I'm sitting."
Shiruko squared his shoulders and began to read the prosecution's demands.
— Based on the totality of the articles, I demand: for those accused of slave trading of free citizens of the Empire — the death penalty by beheading. For the Corporation "Vector" — seizure of assets and transfer of all funds to the state treasury, — he announced.
After the prosecutor's demands were read, the hall buzzed. The captain, taking advantage of an accidental break in the proceedings, rushed into the archive of his brother's secure channel. A red light flickered wildly in his eye. While Shiruko stood, motionless and triumphant, Kate frantically broke through the highest levels of security, searching for traces of who his brother had been communicating with before the trial.
— Order! — the officer called for order once again. — The floor for the defense is given to the accused, Mark Shin.
And at that moment, Kate finally broke through. His pupils narrowed into slits, receiving the information array.
"Come on, come on!" — he mentally urged the data flashing at a frantic pace.
And suddenly, his pupils darted to the sides, widening almost to the iris. The captain's shoulders trembled. He looked at Shiruko, still standing proudly before the tribunal, and his lips stretched into an admiring smile.
— So that's who you've been scheming with all this time, you son of a bitch… — he muttered barely audibly to himself, overflowing with wild delight.
The trial continued.
Mark rose from his seat, his face pale, but determination burned in his eyes. He straightened, adjusted his uniform, and began, trying to speak confidently, but his voice trembled slightly:
— Honorable court members, all these accusations are vile slander! Captain Shiruko Stanley clearly has personal motives to defame me and the Corporation "Vector." The purchase and sale act is a setup. I had no idea it was a Vorlock, — a pause and an index finger thrust into the hall. — The prosecutor's brother! A witness cannot be related to the prosecutor!
Kate tensed like a spring, ready to leap, but Shiruko pinned him with his gaze: "Sit! I've got this."
— I draw the court's attention to the fact that Kaitlyn Stanley — the subject of the aforementioned purchase and sale act — is not a witness in this case, — Shiruko rose slightly to explain.
The court members nodded in agreement.
— Mark Shin, continue.
Mark nervously ran his hand over his forehead, brushing away nonexistent dust.
— I ask the court for permission to present receipts from Vorlocks who are not citizens of the Empire regarding their voluntary participation in the research, with the personal seals of the subjects! — Mark paused, waiting for a reaction, but the tribunal was silent.
— Consent to participate in research is established by a personal signature and notarized independent psychiatric evaluation, — Shiruko interjected. — A personal seal is not sufficient.
— Accusing the Corporation of human trafficking? Absurd! — Mark laughed, but the laugh sounded false. — We just... transported migrants and helped with employment. Is that a crime? People wanted to work!
Shiruko didn't move, only slightly raised an eyebrow.
A dissatisfied murmur spread through the hall. Someone laughed. Someone snorted. Kate crossed his arms, mockingly watching this pathetic spectacle.
— "Blood Fog"… — Mark hesitated. — It's... it's just vitamins! I have a conclusion. Is selling vitamins prohibited?
He forced out the last words, understanding how weak they sounded. The tribunal members exchanged glances. The eldest among them slowly shook his head.
— Are you finished? — he asked coldly.
Mark opened his mouth, as if to add something, then abruptly closed it and nodded.
— Then sit down.
Mark sank into his chair, his shoulders slumping.
Dead silence fell over the hall.
— The tribunal moves to sentencing, — the senior officer announced.
Shiruko allowed himself to lean back in his chair and cast a glance at his brother. The Observer noted with satisfaction that he was holding up — Kate was pale, but his gaze was firm and calm.
For a few minutes, the court members deliberated under a soundproof dome. Finally, the eldest rose, sweeping aside the cover.
— The tribunal has reached a verdict, — his low voice swept through the hall, silencing everyone.
— All rise! — came the officer's command.
— The accused, Mark Shin, — the senior continued, — is found guilty of treason against the Empire, slave trading, and desertion. By the totality of the articles, the tribunal sentences you to death by firing squad.
Mark gasped, his face contorted.
— No… this is a mistake! I… I can explain everything! — he lunged forward, but two guards immediately grabbed his shoulders.
— Silence! — the officer barked.
The senior turned to the profiteer.
— Thibault Smith. The tribunal finds you guilty of slave trading of free citizens of the Empire, state treason, and illegal drug trafficking. Sentence — death by beheading.
— No! No, no, no, no, no! I paid you! I gave everything! I was promised hard labor! You can't… — Smith screeched, and turning to the hall with a crazed look, began to denounce the judges: — They're all bought! They're on "Monolith's" payroll! Can't you see for yourselves? — Smith jabbed a finger at Shiruko: — This kid. He's the one who set all this up! I'll prove…
A guard, obeying a sign from one of the judges, jabbed his baton into Smith's side. He collapsed to his knees, gasping for air. The profiteer was immediately grabbed and dragged to the doors.
— The Corporation "Vector," — the senior's voice grew harsher, — is hereby outlawed. All its property is confiscated, its leadership — sentenced to life imprisonment in the Xylon mines.
A deathly silence fell over the hall. Even Shiruko, who had personally prepared the prosecution, hadn't expected the tribunal to be this severe.
— The sentence is not subject to appeal and must be carried out immediately, — the senior officer declared.
The guards grabbed Mark by the arms. He struggled, muttering something incoherent, but he was quickly dragged out of the hall. Kate watched him go with a dreamy smile:
— Now the fun begins.
Those present began to file out — to watch the execution. Kate started to follow, but Shiruko grabbed his arm.
— Where?
— I want to watch the execution. Don't worry, it's professional curiosity.
— We need to get to the ship right now, — Shiruko announced, pulling Kate toward the emergency exit.
— What happened? Something wrong with the ship? — Kate tensed.
— You don't get it? Look, — Shiruko jabbed his finger downward.
Kate looked in the indicated direction. Below, in the foyer hall, a squad was pushing through the crowd.
— Recognize the uniform? They're here for us. Before the trial started, I intercepted a message.
— Damn! — Kate spotted the skull with crossed bones on the shoulder patches — the eliminators' emblem.
Now Kate grabbed his brother and dragged him into a narrow corridor.
— Jump! — he shouted, throwing open a window.
Shiruko looked out the window and bit his lip, stepping back:
— Noooo…
— Jump! — Kate hissed, pulling out his pistol. — Or I'll shoot you right now! You animal!
— It's the third floor.
Kate grabbed Shiruko by the elbow and, without listening, literally shoved him out the window.
Shiruko flew down. The landing was hard — on his side. His entire skeleton was jarred so badly his breath was knocked out.
— You okay?
Shiruko turned his head in confusion. Kate was already there. Seeing his brother couldn't breathe, Kate punched him hard in the back, restoring his breathing. Shiruko arched sharply, his gaze becoming absolutely wild for a second — pure shock from pain and lack of air. And then he convulsively, with a sob, sucked in air and immediately got up, pushing Kate away.
— Run, — Kate commanded, pulling him toward the spaceport.
Never in his life had Shiruko run that fast. When he was about to fall, Kate caught him, dragged him by the arm, threatened to shoot him in the leg — anything to keep him from stopping. Circles swam before the Observer's eyes when they finally reached the old tub that served as their second home.
— Doug, — Shiruko rasped with difficulty, unable to catch his breath. — Ready?
— As ordered — the heap's got a full head of steam, — Doug reported. — Flor's in the chair…
— Captain, what happened? — Flor responded from the helm.
— Launch! — Kate barked instead of Shiruko. — Full cruising speed! And straight into hyper-jump!
Shiruko, exhausted, slumped against the bulkhead, gasping for air and slowly sliding down.
The ship roared away from the docks, leaving behind the chaotically arranged spaceport terminals. Doug, not taking his eyes off the instruments, pushed the speed to the limit, while Flor was already prepping the hyper-jump. The walls vibrated. It felt like any second the super-strong alloy would break down into molecules. The temperature began to rise rapidly.
While Shiruko tried to catch his breath, Kate blinked, calling up a map on his eyelid. Through the sector schematic, he suddenly noticed Vice, pressed against the bulkhead. A crooked smile slid across the captain's lips:
— Missed us? I told you you wouldn't last a week, and you'd remember my words. — he grinned, then immediately switched to business: — Flor, course nine, five, five.
— How I wish I could lose my memory, — Vice breathed out barely audibly.
Shiruko was struggling to recover his breath, drenched in sweat. His hands were shaking. But not from exertion — because opposite him stood Kate, drilling his brother with a heavy gaze — his pupils contracted into thin lines.
— What?
— Another brilliant plan that went off the rails? — Kate asked, not hiding the sarcasm in his voice. — Congratulations, you're going for a record.
Shiruko, still pale after jumping from the third floor, retorted, overcoming the dull pain in his ribs:
— Quite the opposite. It turned out even better than I expected.
— We've got three eliminator squads on our tail. Were you expecting a nuclear bomb?
— You don't get it? — Shiruko raised his hands and immediately regretted it — his ribs creaked. — I just tossed "Monolith" a bone, and they decided to bite off the whole head. They decided to do a full sweep. Everything went perfectly. The eliminators are a side effect. The system must balance the destabilizing factor.
A brief pause fell, broken only by the hum of the ship's systems. Kate suddenly exhaled and asked without preamble:
— Shiruko. Who were you chatting with on your secure channel before the trial started?
Shiruko froze for a split second, as if deciding whether to answer.
— I received a message, — he finally replied calmly. — I was warned that they'd come for us right after the trial.
— Sure, a message, — Kate nodded, his eyes boring into his brother. — A very useful warning. But you see, while the trial was going on, I rustled through your conversations. Your VERY secret conversations. Nobody sent you anything.
Kate paused briefly, giving Shiruko time to digest the information. Shiruko stood motionless, his face hardening.
— You're talking to yourself, — Kate stated mercilessly. — You're a psycho.
Doug froze, wishing with all his heart he could become invisible. Flor glued his eyes to the control panel, as if he hadn't heard anything. Vice tried to imagine he was just falling into a black hole and soon it would all be over.
It became very quiet, only the humming engine dared to break the silence.
— I… — Shiruko began.
But then Kate unexpectedly slapped his brother on the shoulder, making him flinch:
— Relax, — the captain grinned crookedly. — You're not surprising anyone on this ship with that.
He gestured around the helm.
— You're crazy, I'm crazy, Doug's crazy, Vice's crazy, and Flor's crazy too. I cut anything that moves, you talk to yourself, Doug would drink anything that flows, Vice dreams of wiping his memory, and Flor's saving up to implant a steering wheel. Well? — Kate shrugged. — Everyone's got their own shit.
For a few seconds, silence reigned in the helm. Finally, Shiruko slowly exhaled. The corners of his lips twitched, and he nodded:
— Yeah. I guess you're right.
— Guess? — Kate feigned anger, but it wasn't convincing. — Remember, little bro, the captain is always right!
— Captain, — Flor spoke up. — Two ships are following our ion trail.
— Eliminators?
— Yeah. They're coming in standard formation. First one comes from above and activates the energy field, the second goes for the engines to stop us from jumping to hyper.
— Would you look at that, — Doug grinned, coming to life. — Probably got a five on their exam for that maneuver. Graduation was yesterday, by the way.
— They're hailing us, — Vice reported.
— Don't answer! — Shiruko reacted instantly. — Until we're officially notified of our arrest, we're free. We need to get out of here, and fast.
— I'm thinking, maybe we should turn around and give them a warm goodbye? The warmest we've got on board. Or should we spare the psyches of our lesser brethren? — As he said this, Kate glanced sideways at Shiruko and noted with satisfaction how he turned yellow with rage.
— No, — Doug winced, guessing what Kate wanted to do. — You're going to dump the waste tanks on them?
Instead of answering, Kate only playfully raised his eyebrows.
— Activating the field. Hyper-jump in forty seconds, — Flor reported.
Kate nodded to Doug. The eliminator didn't hesitate for a second, reaching for the life support panel. His finger hovered over the red button.
— Ten, — Vice began the countdown. — Nine, eight, seven, six…
— Do it, — Kate mouthed the command.
The eliminator's finger pressed the button, and streams of liquid waste shot from the opening bulkheads, instantly turning into sparkling crystalline dust that coated the ships' energy fields. Thousands of short circuits turned them into sparkling Christmas decorations. The pursuers' speed dropped.
Flor grunted with satisfaction.
— Now they'll have to change their name, — Shiruko stated grimly. — Space…
He hesitated, but Doug immediately came to the rescue:
— … space shit-haulers!
The guys burst out laughing. Even Shiruko smiled.
— And now — jump! — the captain commanded. — Straight beyond the Perimeter.
— Stop! — Shiruko interjected. — According to regulations, I have to ask the crew. Anyone not want to leave the Empire? Doug?
— I'm not crazy enough to leave two psychos unsupervised.
— Vice? Fine, I know you're in. Flor?
— Who else is going to fly this ship?
— Well then, — Kate grinned. — Flor, punch it! Let's go!
Will Be the Most Repulsive Guardian Angel
© Copyright: Àíàñòàñèÿ Äçàëè Àíè, 2026
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