Готовый перевод Хроники Аскета: Вторжение / The Ascet Chronicles: Invasion: Глава 8

Chapter 8

A short rest did not restore power, but there was no choice: I had to continue the assault. We must clear the second tier as quickly as possible to give it to the scientists to loot and rid the Student's group of the threat from the rear. We had about fifty percent of the area left to clear. We had already passed the most difficult places, so, with luck, we hoped to be done in two hours. In reality, it was a little longer than that: our group came across an alien of the third level, managed to hide their aura, and thus disguise themselves from our senses. One of the fighters ruptured his thigh and had to go back. A total of five men were wounded on the second tier, negligible by the standards of previous assaults, and all the psions suffered shell depletion. Late that night, we made our second pass through the whole tier, made sure it was clear of aliens, and staggered wearily back to camp.

In all the time I spent in the Nest, I never once had to fire a machine gun - all the time I worked either with magic or a sword. Already during the storming of the first tier, it became clear that the training program would change, and drastically. For example, there would be less time for physical training, and more attention would be paid to signs. I had to ask the Research Department to develop a technique for quickly memorizing signs, to learn magical healing methods from Daniel - a lot of things.

The next day the guys scattered to their acquaintances, I had nowhere else to go, so I sat down to learn a new sign. The Sword of Light, as the scientists called it, was different from the Death Claw in its simplicity, but it required more energy. To my surprise, the rest of the group soon began to gather - their faces were frowning as if something unpleasant had happened. Hawk and Wicked had a scuffle with former coworkers, Whip got into the tender embrace of the Research Department: he was forced to take part in some experiments - Beerbrewer was worried that yesterday's assault had gone without him. Executor and Student did not disseminate the reasons for their bad mood but were unusually silent.

"Perhaps I'm interfering in the wrong business..." My intuition told me that something wrong was going on, it wasn't a chain of coincidences. "But could you tell me exactly what it is you're unhappy about? Specifically everyone."

"I think I'll speak for all of us," Student suddenly spoke up. - "You, Ascet, haven't been around camp today, so you haven't seen the way people look at us. The atmosphere of the camp has changed. Most of the men here are experienced fighters. Some have already been through five Nests. The newcomers are also pros, they fought in more than one hot spot. They were told: there is an enemy to fight, a strong and dangerous enemy. Do you know how we used to go on assaults? In the first wave, there was at least a platoon, in all, at least a company took part in the operation. The casualties were enormous. There's still a four-tiered Nest in Oymyakon, the largest in the country; two thousand men began to storm it. We took three tiers, lost half the men, and now all we can do is keep the creatures from the depths to the surface. Such losses were not even in Chechnya."

"People went to the Nest, knowing there was no one else, and there was little chance of returning. In the best-case scenario, one out of five died - we had already come to terms with the losses. And then seven boys of some sort arrive, take a support group, and without any losses, clean out the two tiers. This is good, great, wonderful! Now they don't have to go down themselves, they don't have to risk their heads. And on the other hand, who are we? Familiar guys, from whom you don't know what to expect now. People don't know what they're up against. In the Nest, it's simple: here's the enemy, you have to kill him. And us? What can we do? If all three of us have almost cleared the Nest, what happens when there are more of us? They are grateful to us, but they are afraid."

Besides, it hurt them. They shed blood, they worked hard, they lost friends, and then a small group of people came along and did their job with ease. Yes, we know what this "ease" cost us, but you can't explain it to an outsider.

"There is also the other extreme. Imagine this: while you're talking to someone you know, people slowly appear around you, more and more of them, looking at you with glistening eyes, listening to the conversation. You try to figure out what they want, you ask them about it... In short, it's mostly scientists for whom you're something of a prize hog, but there are isolated instances of attitudes of a different kind. Some have looked at me as if I were an angel coming down from heaven to punish the unholy. Believe me, that kind of worship gets tiresome and scary very quickly." Student rubbed his face tiredly. There was an anxious silence in the tent after his story.

"I suppose this is temporary: the initial effect will soon wear off. Our supervisors must have already noticed the changes in the behavior of others and will do something about it. Most likely, they will tell people about our capabilities in detail - to educate them, so to speak. But now walking around the camp is... unpleasant. If you don't believe me, try it yourself."

I didn't need to search the camp to see if he was right. As soon as I stepped out of the tent, I sensed someone else's observation. They looked at me with different emotions, and during my short walk I was at the center of the attention of others. The opinion of an outside observer was required. Two people suited this role: Chizhov and Daniel. Chizhov was arguing about something with the staff, and Daniel had been disappearing in the Nest since morning - on the second tier he found some kind of weed with interesting abilities. The word "weed" did not describe this half-animal-half-plant well, but the effect was really addictive.

According to the instructions, entering the Nest without an escort of at least five people was strictly forbidden, but at the sight of a sword at my hip, the sentries did not attempt to detain me. In principle, they could always say that I entered with the scientists, they passed just before me... And yet. So I walked around, looking for Daniel, until I found him in the far corridor, doing strange manipulations over a lump of something slippery.

"Are you sure this stuff isn't poisonous?" His hands weren't gloved.

"Nah, it's tested. On the contrary, it stimulates your energy. You swallow a piece of it and you don't have to eat for three days. If you don't puke, I mean. Then, though, you'd have to eat a lot. You should try it."

He held out the "something" to me, but his hand froze in midair. As soon as I entered the Nest, I surrounded myself with Invisible Armor. I would have put on the Dust Helmet if I'd stormed, but it reduced my sensitivity, and the weak mental effects of the surviving intruders were no concern to me.

"Thank you, I'll refrain. Actually, I wanted to talk to you, but it's going to take some time. Will you be out soon?"

"I'm almost done. Did something happen?"

"Not yet. I just need an outside perspective."

The guy shrugged:

"Let's walk to the entrance of the chamber; we can talk on the way." He looked around at the others in his group. "Let's find out who's done here, get an escort, and go."

"I'll talk to the guards, observe the conversation."

I approached the commander of the guard, Lieutenant:

"Excuse me." My civilian life habits were still in me, and I couldn't speak by the rules. "Could you spare us a couple of men to walk to the post? The other scientists will be busy for a long time, and we're running out of time."

"A couple of soldiers? And what will you do with this couple of soldiers if you run into some lurking creature?"

"I'll ask them to help if I have to."

The officer only now noticed the way I was dressed and the sword strapped to my belt. His jaws clenched

"I can't assign people to you, and it is prohibited to travel unaccompanied. Wait until a few more people have gathered."

I nodded and stepped aside: there was no point in continuing the conversation. I guess Daniel had seen enough. He's a psion, too, I must say - the lieutenant's aura was blazing quite eloquently.

"What do you say about the lieutenant's reaction?"

"That's a normal reaction, I'd say no to you, too. If he sends an escort to everyone who wants to leave, he won't have any subordinates left. He has to send at least five of them. After all, orders are orders."

"I'm not arguing with that. That's not what I'm interested in. Did you notice how he reacted when he found out I was a psion who had cleared this tier?"

"People call you witchers. All psions are called wizards or warlocks, but you're called witchers. I know what you mean." Daniel stood for a moment, pondering what he had seen. "Is that a typical reaction?"

"Not really. According to my friends, there is either covert aggression or some degree of exalted enthusiasm when we communicate. Members of your brethren tend to see us as instruments, or creations, but do not treat us as individuals. I have not experienced this attitude, but I suspect that it is unpleasant to be a living Terminator in the eyes of others."

"I don't know what to advise you." Daniel shrugged. "I'm not a psychologist. My attitude toward you hasn't changed - I knew before that this Nest wasn't your last, no matter what you say. So if you want to talk, come on in."

"That's nice to hear. I have a favor to ask of you. Watch people - how they react to us. Maybe we're wrong and there's nothing wrong. I'll come to you when it's over: share your findings. One more thing. Your treatment methods have interested ours. Maybe we should ask the curators to put you on the faculty. What do you say?"

"Come on," Daniel was embarrassed, "I'm not much of a teacher!"

"The only one I know. There may be more experienced ones among your older colleagues, but we've seen your work and we trust you. Think it over. What are you going to do?"

My suggestion threw the guy a little off-balance, but I really thought knowledge of field medicine might come in handy. If the rest of our group had any knowledge of it, I could only put a bandage on.

"I want to examine that thing you killed last. You know, aliens can heal wounds of any severity, whether inflicted by knives or bullets."

"This is the first time I've heard of it. Is that why we are recommended to use flamethrowers?"

Well, yeah. I want to see how the "officers" tolerate the effects of psionics, whether they regenerate damage from the signs or not. Tell me, how did it get killed?

I had to tell him about the epic story of obtaining the sign. Daniel nodded, but it was obvious that he didn't quite understand why we had gone to so much trouble. The Research Department divided into two camps, cruelly ridiculing each other - the "spellcasters" and the "thrushes". The "spell casters" argued that the signs were more promising, more powerful and that a well-trained mage could destroy any creature with just the signs alone. There were only a few problems to be solved - the small number of known signs, the lack of methods for "pumping" the shell, the inability of mages to use signs above the first level, and so on - and you could go for a stroll in the Nests. This camp was particularly beloved by the military.

"The Thrushes" originally described themselves as proponents of the naturalistic theory of psychic development. They believed that emphasis should be placed on the psychic - to develop those talents that all human beings possess, regardless of the level of filling the shell. Empathy, telekinesis, accelerated regeneration, accelerated metabolism, and other ways of controlling one's own body and consciousness were among the most promising areas of psionics development. Of course, it took a lot longer for a non-psion to master the basic skills, but in the long run, you could get a nation of weak mages. Not even capable of mastering the signs. The theory had more than enough merit, but the lack of instant results weakened the Thrushes' position in the eyes of the authorities. It was necessary to destroy the Nests now, and resources for long-term directions were allocated on the residual principle. However, after the declassification of the Invasion, everything could change.

Gradually the supporters of the naturalistic theory were renamed "naturalists," then they became "young naturalists," then they became "children of Drozdov" - remember the old "In the Animal World" and its permanent host - and finally they stopped at "thrushes".
T.N.

In my opinion, the truth is somewhere in the middle. We look for aliens using psychics, but we kill them using signs. Daniel treated Beerbrewer by stimulating regeneration, but he took energy from his shell. The signs are more effective and don't require years of study - I'm talking about the lowest level - but the "thrush" techniques are available to anyone with the weakest abilities.

While we talked, we reached the post at the entrance to the queen's chamber. The decomposing carcass of the creature had been moved away from the tunnel with the help of a winch, and a bunch of people was bustling around it. It was impossible to see exactly how the position of the Special Forces had been reinforced, though my senses registered a large accumulation of metal in front of the entrance to the chamber. I would have to ask Student later how the cells were usually stormed. They won't give the scientists much time, but our turn will come soon.

"First, a fighter is sent into the cell and throws a couple of grenades. From the cell begins to come all the little rascals, first and second level, usually thirty pieces, but sometimes more. They are shot with machine guns: there are four of them at the entrance. Then a squad comes down. The queen always has an entourage - in our case, two or three officers of the fifth, maybe sixth level. You know how many people they can put down." Student put his hands behind his head. "The first ten men are suicider. That's why we'll go down tomorrow: seven should be enough. That's all."

Beerbrewer was allowed to take part in the operation, and the group was back to full strength. We still had a few hours to rest, then one last spurt, and that would be it. The Nest would be destroyed; after the death of the queen, all tiers except the first would disappear. Scientists claimed that the Nest did not exist in our space - where exactly, they could not explain. In time, they would find out: humans are too stubborn a race to leave their questions unanswered.

Once again the dark red abyss of the tunnel. I held three signs at once - the Dust Helmet for the whole group, the Armor on myself, and the Fireball. Invisible Armor hung from each of us, Beerbrewer and Student held two Air Walls. The rest of us held Death Claw at the ready. Against officers, it only made sense to use the Balls when the defense was off. The Special Forces were finishing clearing the rubble from the corpses of the aliens who had rushed out of the passageway five minutes ago. We'll go into the cell first, and the rest of the fighters will follow in five minutes.

That's it, time.

Immediately after we passed through the passageway, I felt so heavy that my eyes went black, and I started clutching at the wall frantically. It took a while for the stimulant-infused body to begin to perceive the fragments of reality. The writhing carcass of a stranger on the floor, sliced in half along the spine. Beerbrewer shoves the Ball into the wound. Hawk's body flying aside. Student thrusts his sword into the skinny creature and nimbly bounces aside. The Executor throws the Sword of Light at the strange creature, crawling toward it, my vision clears, and I am astonished to find that the Dust Helm is the only sign I can retain of the matter. And I have no idea when I lost the others.

There was one surviving officer of the royal retinue: Student, Whip, Wicked, and Beerbrewer swirled swiftly around him, barely able to keep him in place. Hawk lay motionless against the wall - judging by his aura, he had lost consciousness. The Executor finished his creature and turned to the remaining one, weaving an Air Wall. When he saw me forming the Claw, he shouted:

"Don't attack, he's got the Mirror on him," and put the Wall at the Whip.

The remaining officer was protected from psionic attacks and had a high speed of movement. My friends were saved by the fact that Student had managed to hit him with a grenade from the start, and by our numerical superiority. I threw on my Armor and rushed to the rescue. The six of us sliced the alien to shreds - the sturdy chitin didn't help.

As Student told me later, the whole fight took about two minutes. As soon as we entered the chamber, we ran into the first officer, who had no time to do anything: the Executor and the Whip struck immediately with their Claws. Hawk threw his Claw at the next alien, but he deflected the sign with his Mirror, and the creature ignored the magical attacks. The Mirrorwolf's return attack knocked down both Airwalls. Student and Hawk trying to block it. Hawk set himself up and received a blow from the tentacle, but was saved by Armor. At this time Executor noticed that I was being attacked by a third officer, apparently some sort of telepathy. The weakened Dust Helm was hanging on by a thread, and I couldn't hold on much longer. Wicked fondled the alien with his Claw, knocked his defenses down, and gave him a shallow wound, so Executor had to finish the alien off.

Alien with Mirror sent Hawk to the hospital for at least a month, ripped Executor's hip open, broke Student's arm. It could have ended a lot worse if we hadn't been trained to work in a group against one, just for this occasion. No amount of stimulants would have helped. But now the medics were tending to the wounded Hawk, while we sat staring wearily at the ten-meter corpse of the queen, lying against the far wall. A huge crowd was bustling around it - the scientists, their guards - and the queen lay motionless, and it was unclear whether she even noticed our presence. I only now felt Chizhov beside me.

"Pavel Sergeyevich. What now?"

"Hawk and Executor will be taken to the clinic, you'll be examined, and then you can go home. "Chizhov sat down next to me. "The scientists will once again try to establish contact with the queen - they will fail again. Then everything of any interest will be taken from the cell, the queen will be killed, the Nest will disappear by nightfall, and the operation will be considered successful. That's it. Go upstairs, boys."

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