Готовый перевод Хроники Аскета: Вторжение / The Ascet Chronicles: Invasion: Глава 12

Chapter 12

This was the first time I'd ever cleared the third tier. Here it was common to deal with level four creatures, and it was impossible to deal with them alone. At the very least, we had to do it in twos. To be sure, we split into two groups, with Student, Hawk, and me in the first, and the others in the second. We were all supposed to find a way into the Queen's chamber first, and only then begin to clear the tier of aliens. After the crossing guards, ordinary creatures are not dangerous at least psychologically, so I wanted to deal with the most difficult stage first.

It was going too easy. We spotted the first creature, a three-level mantis, just in time, and the four fireballs left it no chance. Then there was a stingray cling to the ceiling, a four-level spittoon, a strange puddle of spittle, and another spittoon. The first difficulty was with the officer, covered by some kind of magic-protecting sign. He was shot by machine guns.

I was holding the Dust Helmet, as is my custom. I was the first to be hit by an unknown foe, and all I managed was to wheeze "Attack." Then I concentrated on the mental battle. The alien was pushing with tremendous force, and it was a miracle that I was able to hold on the sign.

I reduced the area covered by the sign, so I didn't notice when one of our escorts stepped out of the sphere of influence. His aura "unhooked" from the spell and immediately came into view of the alien. Later I was told that Ruslan suddenly stopped - as if his whole body froze, then slowly began to turn the machine gun in our direction. Fortunately, Student noticed the guy's strange behavior and knocked him out.

Finding the alien, an officer who wielded a sign of the same nature as the Dust Helm, proved to be a problem of a few minutes. When he was found, we had to fight another five-level alien, an armored, four-armed humanoid at the same time. This one was an officer, too: he wore an unknown protective sign, which the Executor had managed to copy. It took a lot less time to copy it than the last time, thanks to the training. Fortunately, two Claws had managed to pierce the sign, and then the alien was finished off with a simple fireball.

As expected, these two were guarding the passageway. There was nothing we could do to help Ruslan anymore: it was too late, his brain was completely destroyed, and I was also temporarily out of the game. So our group went to rest while the others remained to booby trap the exit. The creatures that came out of their cell exploded on mines, so we occasionally had to go back and repeat the procedure. Fortunately, no new guards were created by the Queen. The scientists believed that the stronger the creature, the more time it took to create it. Though the queen was also growing... On the whole, considering the loss of only one fighter, we coped with the task successfully. All that remained was to clear the tier.

The work turned out to be more difficult than we had anticipated. On several occasions we met officers whom the whole group had difficulty overcoming - we had to hold at least three signs at the same time. Soon the shell was exhausted, and we had to take a break to sleep. Sleeping in the Nest was not a good idea, but there was no other option. We did not dare to use the restoratives from the crystals growing on the walls. The scientists who studied the effects of the restoratives on human energy found too many side effects.

After the entire tier was cleared, we had to make a check run - and only then did the regulars come in to take over. We stayed at the crossing until the bomb squad had mined it and watched the installation of heavy weapons. Only after the defenses were finally set were we allowed to go to the surface and let our weary bodies rest.

Coming out into the light brought more than just relief. Immediately numerous scratches, abrasions, and bruises became sore, and Beerbrewer headed to the nurse's station to bandage a broken arm. I had a bruise all over my back - one of the officers had thrown it against the wall with a blow of his shoulder, and my nose and ears were bleeding from the frequently punctured marks. Everyone was in a similar condition - an empty shell and oppressive fatigue added to the wounds.

Chizhov, having inspected us shortly after we left and after consulting with the doctors, left to scold us at headquarters. The plan assumed that we would have two days of rest: during this time, the scientists would be able to search the entire tier. But in this condition, as now, two days will not be enough. This fact is obvious to everyone, except the bosses.

Therefore, the recovery period was doubled - in four days Daniel promised to bring everyone to good condition.

The next day we went together to the river. It was early summer, the weather was warm, and all the off-duty soldiers gathered on the bank. Even some of the scientists had abandoned their classes and were now lounging on the wooded banks, picking out the first rays of sunshine.

I sat with my back to the tree and listened to the argument between Student and Hawk. The word "argument" did not describe the situation very well - it is more correct to say that Student's monologue was interrupted from time to time by the skeptical snicker of his opponent. The conversation was about very interesting news that had come from a distant star-spangled country.

"What have we got?" Student asked rhetorically and then answered: "Congress passed a bill prohibiting psions from holding certain positions and working in certain spheres. On the one hand, it seems to be a trifle - let a dozen doctors not be able to practice. So be it. But in fact, it is the first step toward genocide. Pharmaceutical firms and manufacturers of surgical equipment realized the danger to their profits in time and struck preemptively."

"It's all bullshit." Hawk's been fighting back so far. "Daniel says his cronies have found ways to cure cancer. There's no law against that argument."

"You underestimate the power of propaganda. You'll see - soon people will be convinced that irreversible changes are taking place in the brains of psions, which lead to complete mental degradation. Or they will declare that ordinary people are subjected to discrimination, which must be eliminated in order to have an equal chance of getting a decent job. The first notes have already appeared in the foreign press. They found increased aggression, schizophrenia, and other abnormalities. They will do their best to ensure that psions go to only one sphere, the army, and the rest of the roads will be closed before them."

"How do you think it will end? Humanity's fight against mutants, the X-Men, and Professor Xavier in the underground?"

It won't come to that. But remember my words: the enmity between ordinary people and psions is inevitable. People with magical powers are not just able to perform miracles, survive in murderous conditions, to live longer than most people are supposed to. Psionics is different. We already look at the world a little differently now, so what will be in ten years? A simple example: if you need to talk to the Executor and don't have your cell phone handy, what will you do?"

"I'll send him a Call, or I'll look for it myself. - He shrugged his shoulders. "I'll catch the aura, and then I'll walk with my feet."

Exactly. A normal person would either have to shout at the top of his lungs or walk around the camp asking everyone he met. It's the little things like that that make the biggest differences. And if the scientists understand how Nest activates psionic abilities, we can talk about the creation of a new race. And, according to Darwin, no one has canceled the interspecies struggle. The Americans were the first to understand the threat of the increase in the number of mages, and are trying to counteract it.

Only it won't work. As long as the aliens exist, new psions will appear. As the number of Nests grows, we need more and more fighters to clean them up, and we need new methods to develop their abilities. Human nature is unchanging: looking at something alien and useful, one wants to get the same. I mean, few people would refuse to become a mage if such an opportunity presented itself, or at least take advantage of the results of their labors.

Student was quiet for a moment, then continued more calmly:

"You remembered Daniel. Yes, if he manages to heal diseases that modern medicine cannot cure, he will be inevitably praised. But if there is an alternative to magical treatment, he is doomed! No one wants to get involved with something incomprehensible, possibly dangerous. Besides, there's the usual human envy: you can do something I can't - let me punch you in the face." Executor snorted, holding back laughter." It would have been funny if it hadn't been so scary. The confrontation is inevitable: on one side, angry and frightened people. On the other, mages are mad because of the power they have. We're no saints-remember Phantom's tales. The crime rate among psions is no higher than among humans, simply because they're watching us more closely. The temptation of power is great."

"And what do you suggest?" It was me who asked. Similar thoughts had crossed my mind before but scattered. Student was the first to combine them into a kind of prediction of the future.

"The choice is this. Either people accept the existence of a parallel civilization that follows an alternative path to the technological one, or war will break out. Not now, I mean, but later, when the problem of aliens is solved."

It is necessary to convince people, especially the elite, that the existence of psions does not threaten their power - on the contrary, it can bring tangible benefits. In the face of Invasion, this is easy enough to do. Gradually, mages must create new professions that do not compete with existing ones. Forecasting the future, genetic engineering, weather management - a lot of industries are so poorly developed now that specialists in them will be cherished. Then, gradually, psions will be able to penetrate other niches.

And only then, when people get used to the existence of mages and cannot imagine their life without their presence, then it is possible to create purely magical structures and associations. The main thing is that both people and psions should be able to exist side by side without infringing on each other's interests. In my opinion, symbiosis is the ideal way out, but simple coexistence will also do.

I recalled that conversation more than once.

In all honesty, Chizhov did the impossible. He insisted that we be allocated new, improved stimulants, and extended the rest period by two more days. As a result, now we were at the peak of our form, and the body was shivering slightly from the restrained energy. I wanted to run, to move, and my thoughts became clear and distinct. The movements of those around us seemed slow and jerky.

The preliminary phase - luring the low-level trash out of the Queen's Chamber - was a success. Executor, who stumbled inside, managed to spot three officers, with the first shooting him with some kind of crap while the second tried to influence his mind. The short-run had cost him a blown Air Wall and a burst Dust Helmet, and now he was quickly regaining his defenses. We were embarrassed that we couldn't find out anything about the third officer: he closed in too well. Apparently, some unknown protective sign was protecting him.

As before, I held the Dust Helmet stretched over my squad. The mental effects were the best I could do, so my job was to protect the others while they killed the aliens. Initially, the whole group was at about the same level - I came in later and was forced to catch up. Then, the scientists made several discoveries at once in the field of influencing the mind, the aura, and the subtle body. I was good at it, and the instructors advised me to emphasize the development of mental abilities. So it turned out that while my friends were mastering ways to destroy the creatures, I was perfecting my defense and detection. In time I achieved good results in my chosen area, though I lagged a little behind in the others.

As we stormed into the chamber, the mental shock briefly excluded me from the fray. After a few seconds, my eyes cleared up.

There were really three officers in the chamber. The first, the telepath, was almost out of the game - Executor, Wicked, and Whip had immediately destroyed him with their sign blows. Off to the side, Student and Hawk threw fireballs at the huge carcass of the armored stranger. The protection was removed from it, but the scales reflected the blows so far. Beerbrewer was getting close to the last officer, who was spitting tapered ice needles in his direction, shimmering unkindly blue. Apparently, the creature was using some kind of sign, because its projectiles were flying too precisely and had already blown Beerbrewer's defenses off.

I was about to help finish off the armored officer when the situation changed abruptly. One of the projectiles fired by the thrower flew past Beerbrewer and crashed straight into Wicked's head. Invisible armor cushioned the impact, but some of the substance - or whatever the needle was made of - hit his face. Wicked screamed terribly, fell to the floor, and convulsed. The skin on his head was smoking. I leaped up to him, quickly applied the healing crystal, and ran to help Beerbrewer. I was going to have to kill the dangerous shooter as quickly as possible.

I sensed Executor and Whip rushing after me, the telepath's aura fading rapidly. Beerbrewer didn't want to wait for help to arrive - he decided to go into the dead zone as soon as possible and avoid being fired upon that way. Unfortunately, there are no dead zones for aliens.

Maybe it was the recent injury, maybe it was just a little too little time. But when he got close, Beerbrewer wasted no time in creating a defense, but immediately began to create a Death Claw and was distracted. For a moment, just a second. Before he knew it, a long, thin tentacle with a claw on the end emerged from behind the creature.

If the Invisible Armor had remained on him, we could have hoped for something. But he had not restored his defenses. The tentacle sliced through the human body with ease, like a hot knife through a piece of butter. Beerbrewer didn't even realize it had killed him, splitting him in two.

At the same time, I felt a terrible flash of pain coming from Hawk. I turned around and didn't immediately understand what was happening: two new creatures were tearing at our friend's body, while the Student was crawling away from the third, his legs dragging on the floor. He tried to create a Wall, but he was clearly running out of time. The dead armored giant they had recently fought was nowhere to be seen.

I was the closest one to the Student. I realized, somehow, that in my normal state I wouldn't have time to come to his aid, so I dove into acceleration. It took me two jumps to reach the body sprawled on the floor and crash into the side of the creature that was leaning over Student at breakneck speed. Nothing cleverer came into my head at that moment.

My body responded to this violence with the cracking of my ligaments. My spine seemed to have survived, but my arms and legs were no longer moving. But the damage to my limbs didn't matter now: I had enough time to create the Sword of Light. The sign literally shattered the creature as it approached us. That was the end of the good news. Student was unconscious, and the two aliens, having finished tearing apart Hawk's body, were now moving swiftly in our direction. I had Armor hanging on me, who was now covering two and wouldn't last long, Whip and Executor wouldn't come to the rescue. It looked like it was time to die.

I managed to create a fireball before the first alien, a second-level creature, crashed into my defense. It looked like a turtle with tentacles. It swung at its pesky prey, trying to penetrate my Armor, and fell to its back. While it tried to roll over, I managed to throw a fireball at the second creature, interrupting its attack and inflicting a deep wound in its chest. I used the brief respite to patch up the damage and put some energy into it.

There was no time for anything more. The first alien attacked again. The armor withstood the second blow, then snapped, blood trickling thinly from my nose. I managed to catch the wounded creature's brain lightly with a mental blow before the massive carcass crashed into my motionless body. Then darkness fell.

Consciousness slowly emerged from the dark silence. At first soft voices began to be heard, and gradually the other organs began to turn on. I reached around with my mind - and felt the presence of at least four people near me. Two were in a bad condition, unconscious, their badly damaged auras reflecting a strong sense of pain.

A muffled exclamation was heard: a man approached me. Daniel.

A hand rested on my stomach, and a stream of healing energy poured into my body like warm water, filling all wounds, mental and bodily. A soft order came to my consciousness: "Sleep". I could not resist. Not now.

The next awakening was much more pleasant. Next to my bunk, there was Whip, reading something. He felt my awakening, so he put the book aside:

"Hello."

I nodded in response. I looked around and saw Student on the next bunk. We were in a separate room, filled with equipment. The body was covered with healing artifacts. We were badly shaken - we were saved by a miracle.

"Tell."

Whip looked grimly into the corner:

" You've been unconscious for a week. Wicked is in Moscow right now, he's got some crap burned all over his head. Student regained consciousness yesterday for a while. He had a broken spine and severe poisoning. Hawk and Beerbrewer... they're gone."

We were silent. I saw what the aliens had done to my friends, but there was still some silly hope. Now it was gone.

"What is the matter with me?"

"Multiple torn ligaments, fractured right arm, broken ribs on the right side," my ribs were so unlucky, "weak poisoning. The feet are damaged. Daniel said you won't be able to walk for at least a week. What will happen to Student is unclear: he has some kind of crap in his body, and the healing does not work. They will have to treat him with the regular methods."

"Where did those three things come from?"

"From that armored alien. Level six. Student and Hawk punched through his chitin, and then he fell apart into four pieces. The guys burned his head off - they thought he was finished. But the remaining pieces turned into these monsters: two immediately pounced on Hawk and the third slashed Student in the back. Second-level aliens. The Executor and I didn't notice right away, caught up with the thrower. Hit him with the Claws, then the Executioner stayed to finish him off, and I went to your aid."

"Thank you."

Whip only snorted back.

"And what now?"

"Chizhov said - until the rookies are fully ready, no new assaults are planned. Get well. Now Executor will come, and maybe he'll tell you something new."

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