Chapter 14

 At some point, the ship's main engines came to life, pushed the ship forward somewhere, and then fell silent again - the shuttle was correcting its trajectory. The drives of the reversing units immediately came into action, deploying these small power plants attached to the sides of the ship. These plants were perhaps the most precise devices on the entire ship. Engineering marvels that included plasma feeders - a kind of electrical wiring that was plasma bundles held by a magnetic field. This is how energy and the primary working fluid were transferred from the reactors to the ejectors and the chambers preceding them, mixing the secondary working fluid with the high-energy plasma. In addition, the turning mechanisms themselves required structures of extraordinary endurance, for which they used, among other things, all those expensive metals.

 Ahead, in the windshield, the Earth appeared. It slowly floated from left to right. The glowing networks of cities immersed in the darkness of night were already discernible. All this could not but please.

Suddenly, on the display of the individual panel, the one in which the on-board computer camera was built in, a window appeared that contrasted greatly with the previous picture, notifying about an incoming message. Dolbin's voice was immediately heard. It became clear what kind of message it was - Walter had finally gotten into the on-board network. He had gotten into it, one must think, from his clamshell computer.

 - Attention everyone! - Dolbin announced in the meantime. - I inform you that we managed to penetrate the Earth's Internet several hours ago. We found out that the overwhelming majority of Earthlings have no idea about the events on Mars. We could not tell you earlier, because we ourselves were not sure of this discovery. We rely on personal contacts.

 A puzzled noise ran through the compartment, but everyone was listening.

 - Real TV programs are now displayed on your displays. It's online. Try to find at least one word about us. There, on Mars, they lied to us. They lied to us all these years. There was no default and no crisis. We came to the conclusion that it was simply cheaper for the company to leave everyone until the end. Obviously, the connection was blocked with these goals.

 - Who are we? - the American Buzz, a rather elderly engineer, said with distrust in his voice.

 - Walter and I, - Dolbin answered calmly.

 - Okay, let's assume that this is so, - Dupare's voice was heard, - Right now your investigation does not change anything. In half an hour we will land and see everything for ourselves. Your investigation, frankly, intrigued me, as well as everyone else. We will see soon...

 - That's the whole point, - Dolbin answered, - We will find out nothing. We will find out, but not that. We need to choose a launch site at our own discretion. Or better yet, just some random site near the city. If we land in Nevada, they'll take us in and shut the hell up forever. Is that so hard to understand?

 - Mr. Dolbin, It's not serious, - Dupare answered rather casually. He answered as if the conversation was not taking place on board the shuttle preparing to enter the atmosphere, but in some bar.

 - What's the problem? The shuttle is designed for this. Both on Mars and on Earth. Now we'll enter the disaster system, choose a place and send out a warning for everyone to get out. So as not to burn anyone. It will work. We just need to choose a site. We decided that it will be New York.

 - Are you crazy? - Dupare roared unexpectedly.

 - What are you shouting about? - Dolbin answered calmly. - What will the others say?

 - I was thinking, - Buzz suddenly began, - That they pumped us full of some kind of crap there on Mars. Judge for yourself: all of Mars is making a friendly demarche towards Earth. We, in turn, are going into confrontation with these separatists and running away. And now we are starting to cause trouble in a separate shuttle. These are nothing but psychological tricks... Why don't we land in some quiet and deserted place. And where we can be seen from afar or from cars. Land ten miles from some city. Well, we'll miss Kennedy. Is that a crime?

 - Everyone stay where you are! - Dupare suddenly commanded, - We are on board the shuttle, not on a fucking bus! This is the last thing we need!

 - Why are you giving orders! - one bearded thug shouted angrily, - Your security service stayed there, on Mars - so go there.

 - Security service, - several voices muttered at once. Obviously, not all of the two hundred and fifty people knew who was who.

 - Can't you see the habits? - the thug who had managed to unbuckle himself shouted, standing up straight. - Let's land in Kennedy, as planned. At least it's safe. This is Earth and its atmosphere, not Mars. When we land, I'll beat his face in. I have my own scores to settle with them. But I'm not going to land in the desert.

 - Didn't you listen to me? - Dolbin shouted.

 - You two can go to hell. Everything was calm before you. If it was such a conspiracy as you say, we would have been shot down on the approach.

 - They wouldn't shoot us down, - Buzz shouted, - The ship costs money. And now they'll just put us all in cars and that's it. Now everything's worked out. Guys, I'm on your side. If there's no other way, then let's land right on someone's head!

 - It's still good that they managed without me for now, - thought Somerset, meanwhile warming up his hands, preparing for his part in the general plan.

 - What a hell are you doing there?! - the pilot finally chimed in, shouting through the intercom.

 To be convincing, the pilot tilted this way and that, as if wanting to shake the restless passengers.

 - Gentlemen, - Dupare began unexpectedly measuredly, - on behalf of the Confederate Government, I guarantee you that everything will be fine. You will receive what you earned within the framework of your contracts. In addition, you are entitled to certain compensation for the fact that you were involved in these events against your will. And yes, you will have to agree to remain silent, but I think that should not be a problem for you.

 - And what about those who remained? - Somerset thought. After all, this really is some kind of GULAG that Dolbin was talking about. And those who are destined to hang out there all their lives will be born and have already been born there. And all because the ships with their bio-shields and their quickly burning out engines are very expensive and the constellation cannot afford such expenses. And another constellation usurped the technology of these very engines.

 I think it was called that, "usurpation of technology." Lawsuits happened because of this. And the whole Martian mess, in fact, was because of this.

 Dupare had something in his hand. It was a pistol with a rather impressive magazine. Somerset had once seen such ones on the Internet. It was a plastic pistol intended for special services. Plastic bullets were not capable of critically damaging the skin of a shuttle or an airplane, but their stopping power was sufficient. It, this power was demonstrated to a certain extent now - Everyone shut up.

 - Mr. Dupare, can I ask a question? - Somerset asked rather calmly in contrast to the others.

 - Yes? - Dupare responded in the same calm tone.

 - Are you represent something? The security service is one thing, but I mean the government. It's just not that hard to pretend to be a government agent... Well, we're only used to believing IDs and badges...

 - On the whole, it's constructive, - Dupare answered, - I advise the rest to follow this example, - he chuckled coldly, - I recommend looking at your screens...

 At once on Somerset's display, and, one would think, on the others, an image of some document appeared with the familiar inscription CSSS - Confederation State Security Service. There was also a photograph of Colonel Reinhardt Dupare. The shuttle's onboard computer noted that, apart from the pilot, Dupare was the senior officer on board at the time the document was shown. Apparently, for the computer, even though Walter had hacked it, Dupare was still a critical person. This was as convincing as the document itself.

 - Sir, am I right in understanding, - Somerset continued, - If we were allowed to get away from Mars, then we don't have to worry about what happens next?

 - Of course, Mr. Somerset, - Dupare replied, - Did the rest of you hear? Stop this mess and take your places as expected. We're coming in soon.

 - He's lying to you! - Somerset heard in head, - You'll be removed. He and a few others like him just needed to get away. Now they just need to get to Earth!

 - This crap again! - Somerset thought angrily.

 He had no intention of engaging in any mental dialogue with the voice - any person more or less prepared for the vicissitudes of space knew this. He had been instructed about this before the training anabiosis, and in general during the course on psychiatric disorders taught during the internship.

 - The thug who wanted to beat him up is actually with him. He's also a CSSS officer.

 Somerset gritted his teeth a little, checked the straps that were already properly secured, and looked around. The ever-approaching Earth was now on the starboard side - a fragment of the horizon was visible through one of the windows.

 - There, I'll have to ask for something from this... what is this crap called? - Somerset thought slowly.

 Actually, once, on the final day of the past suspended animation, Somerset encountered something similar. There was a feeling that someone was telling him something, although there was no actual sound sensation. It was like they were talking into his head. Most likely, they would have rejected him for something like that, but only if it had happened during a test dive. When you're flying to Mars, then, of course, no longer. And especially not on the way back. The doctor said that the mechanism of the hallucinations was similar to what creates the impression that you are playing some game after playing hard all day. Only here, against the background of the effect of the drugs, fragments of someone's random phrases were recorded. Now the voice was much clearer, although the difference between this conversation and the sound sensation was still noticeable.

 - You must land in a random place. Answer! I know that you hear!

 - I wonder if this goes away on its own, or do I really need to take something? - Somerset thought angrily. And I also wonder if it can be recorded word for word if someone blurts it out while I am asleep and unconscious?

 Here, his vision began to double slightly. Somerset blinked, then shook his head. Some other picture began to emerge through the picture visible to his eyes. This was too much. A view of some town appeared, strongly reminiscent of the streets of his hometown, but still it was something else.

 - Computer, I'm dizzy! - Somerset growled angrily into the camera.

Immediately on the display, which had been displaying Dupare's document until then, a medical menu appeared.

 - Your condition is normal, Mr. Somerset, - a voice sounded in the earpiece, at the same time confirming the difference between the real auditory sensation and this...

 - What's wrong with my head, you idiot?

 - Neuroactivity is normal. Additional peripheral equipment is needed for more accurate diagnostics.

 The standard suit, this space overalls, was, among other things, stuffed with all sorts of sensors. They were also in the condom-hat, but these were rather primitive - a completely different headdress would have been needed for normal sensors.

 The second, hallucinatory image appeared more strongly and even seemed to gain color - as if it were some kind of night and greenery around. In general, in the shuttle compartment, everything visible to the eye was also closer to night, only with bright lights - sun glare and lighting that never turned off. There was no greenery, though. Except for some indication, rather a combination of blue, black and pure white light.

 Then some woman appeared before my eyes. She was all in white and with a silver crown. Just a princess.

 - Do you see me? - sounded in head again.

 Somerset closed his eyes, but this did not make the fucking "Snow White", as he for some reason called her, give up. The picture was not right before his eyes - it, like the voice, was somewhere in his head.

 - You need to land somewhere other than where you were told. Then you will stay alive.

 Somerset glanced at the display, where in addition to the lines with the parameters, a green silhouette of a man was displayed - the color, as it was easy to guess, indicated that everything was in perfect order.

 - You don't want to answer? - The voice sounded already with some displeasure.

 - No, I don't want to. This is a hallucination. You are a hallucination, - Somerset finally burst out, having finally addressed the voice. Addressed also mentally.

 - Then look, - she answered.

 A few moments later, Somerset's gaze caught sight of Dupare's figure, which began to rise above his chair. Before that, he had obviously already managed to unfasten his belts.

 Having flown up to the ceiling of the compartment, he suddenly began to tear at his collar. His eyes were wild.

 - Is it his heart? - someone's voice sounded, - Inject him with something from the first aid kit, - another shouted.

 Someone started to unfasten their belts.

 - Five minutes to the entrance - shouted the pilot, who had managed to react to what had happened.

 Dupare, who had nevertheless been conscious the whole time, managed to make one sharp movement - he threw his pistol somewhere towards the left row, where Somerset was sitting. The weapon, which had tumbled for a couple of seconds, was caught by someone's hand. It turned out to be the same big guy who wanted to punch Dupare in the face.

 - Remain calm! - the big guy growled, - You, - he nodded somewhere behind him, - Since you got loose, then fly here. What's on his monitor? - the thug turned to the one sitting behind Dupare.

 - Heart is normal. Some kind of cramp, - the man managed to shout before exactly the same thing happened to the big guy as to Dupare. The pistol, released from his hand, hit the ceiling and flew somewhere to the side.

 - Now do you see? - a voice rang out in his head.

 - What is it? - Somerset answered mentally, no longer seeing any reason to ignore the voice, or the image.

 - I told you... There are no bloodhounds on board now. Shout out to everyone that there are no more agents. Let yours hurry.

 Somerset obeyed.

 - What, was the second one with him too? - Buzz said. - He was the one who threw the gun to him. And they both passed out. Do they have neurochips or something?

 Somerset also had a thought at first, reminding him of the existence of these devices, but, firstly, if applied to him, this would be pure conspiracy theory of a psychopath, and secondly, neurochips did not create images. And they did not turn you off - that only happened in movies.

 - Where are we landing? - Somerset shouted without any prompts from this deadly "Snow White". - We'll figure it out now, - Dolbin shouted, having come to life, immediately starting to unfasten Walter, who a few seconds later was already being dragged forward, to the pilot's seat.

 - What's up with you? - the pilot to whom Leita rushed, shouted over the radio.

 - We'll land somewhere else! - Dolbin shouted into the compartment.

 - Are you nuts? Three minutes to the entrance!

 - Then we press up.

 Somerset didn't see what kind of fuss was going on there, in front, but less than a minute later his back felt very light, and the belts tightened - the engines gave an impulse. Someone was yelling at someone. Blinding spots of sunlight ran around the compartment every now and then - the ship began to maneuver along all three axes. Somerset's participation was not required - the shuttle was captured.

 Now, contrary to his previous line of behavior, he wanted to catch the elusive picture of that inner vision, and closed his eyes. It worked - a few seconds later the night panorama with trees and some lanterns appeared in his head again. "Snow White", as it turned out, capable of if not killing, then knocking out a person, was right there. Somerset even managed to make out that silver thing on her head. It was something like a crown.

 - And what are you going to do? First these two, and then...

 - You're starting again. You people very often reason within the limits of your mentality. Everything will be fine.

 - And if we now...

- Nothing if, - Snow White interrupted, - You are not one of those who are capable of this. And there is no need. And even if you could decide to do something with the shuttle, you would not move, - she smiled.

It was unpleasant. It was unpleasant to feel so powerless.

 Then Somerset felt another push and a slight heaviness - the shuttle was once again performing some kind of maneuver.

 - I lived here for centuries. Here and in other places. Then this Ha.L-t appeared. Actually, she has been here for a long time, but she didn't behave so brazenly. I had to leave you. Now I'm coming back. It will only be better for everyone.

 - What will be better?

 - Nothing special. You won't notice anything. And no one will. Now I won't chatter, and you'll see how the thing you argued about works.

 Somerset said nothing. The vision began to dissipate, apparently she decided that she had said enough. And then his memory opened up. The dream about the ingots was not the only one - it was just a trifle, designed to distract his consciousness like food thrown to an animal. He remembered how he walked around the city, and how from time to time he learned to think in his sleep, having learned to read. Of course, he remembered this Ferengelia in detail, all these stories about viruses united by quantum communication. About the peculiarity of the Earth and the entire solar system in general, about this region of space containing parallel worlds with the same Earths. Human science with shuttles, Mars and everything else was just a backwater, and people were just people. The only thing that remained not entirely clear was about that black hole. As if someone lived there, some evil... Well, if there was "Snow White", then there was a sorceress. She had a name. Not consisting of countless fragments of organic molecules, but an ordinary one. And it was, in a sense, dangerous to name. If Snow White, like the rest of her kind, wove her webs and blanketed her brains with the threads of all this DNA, then the sorceress, judging by the stories, acted much more primitively. Living among people, she let her claws into society and owned all the keys to networks, communications and other codes. If someone on the ship foolishly typed her name in a search, then somewhere there, with her, the fact of this event would come to light. Of course, this "someone" could be him, Somerset. What this would threaten, "Snow White" did not say, but clearly nothing good. She called her "Halt". "Snow White" spoke of her with unchanging contempt. In general, it gave the strong impression of a woman's showdown, but Somerset, of course, could not verify the seriousness of the matter.

 Somerset opened his eyes. The shuttle was moving, its muzzle raised, pointing somewhere away from the Earth, the horizon of which was now on the left side, from Somerset's side. Two people were sitting at the pilot's panel. Most likely, one of the controllers was the restless Dolbin, who had finally achieved his goal.

 Dupare's place was not empty - he was dangling, fastened with all the belts. It was difficult to say what condition he was in, whether he was even alive.

 Suddenly, the compartment was filled with a series of abrupt sound signals. At the same time, something flared in the windows. There was a yellow glow ahead, behind the windshield on course - the ion screens turned on, protecting the shuttle's skin from the effects of atomic bombardment from the super-rarefied atmosphere. They were turned on long before entry.

 The shuttle began to maneuver once again, leveling its nose. Immediately, the engines of the reverse units started working, giving a test impulse. A slight weight appeared, first slightly pressing the butt into the seat, then, on the contrary, tightening the belts - the ship began to turn over, like an airplane performing a loop. The glow outside the window trembled and thickened. This was not interaction with the atmosphere - it was its own ion cloud, held by a magnetic field. The cruise engines started, gradually increasing their power. In half a minute, the overload reached three units - the shuttle was dropping speed. Then it began to turn over again to plunge into the atmosphere like an airplane. The reverse units came into the landing position. It was a rather abrupt landing - it was possible to smoothly and slowly drop speed, using only the reverse engines. The glow of the ion screen and the ionized atmosphere became so dense that the windows began to resemble faulty monitors, displaying a solid yellow background. Maneuvering with the engines had long since ended, but the gravity did not disappear. The orbital velocity was spent and it was mostly Earth's gravity! Somerset did not think that it was something to be so happy about. Finally, the yellow glow faded and dissipated, replaced by a smooth background of purple sky. Stars were still visible in the sky. Nevertheless, it was brightening before our eyes, turning into something like morning. Earth's morning. A shudder ran through the hull - the shuttle broke into the lower layers of the atmosphere. The reverse engines turned on again, apparently now lifting the nose of the ship. Then it flared up on both sides - it was landing mode. The butt was mercilessly pressed into the transformed chair. In this landing mode cycle, the cruise engines were also involved. Finally, the next overload weakened, and the cruise engines died down. The descent began with the participation of only the reverse engines, which were working almost at full power, blocking the glass light filters with their radiation. The shuttle landed on the surface. Then the reverse engines also died down. This was Earth.