© Yury Trofimov, text, illustrations, 2021
© Aegitas publishing house, 2023
eISBN 978-0-3694-1046-7
All rights reserved. It is prohibited to copy or reproduce the book or any part thereof in electronic or mechanical form, in form of a photocopy, recording in computer memory, reproduction or in any other way, as well as to use it in any information system without prior consent of the publisher. Copying, reproduction and other use of the book or part thereof without prior consent of the publisher is illegal and will result in criminal, administrative, and civil liability.
Dedicated to my son Leo, my daughter Polina, and all superhero children.
PROLOGUE
Pussy cat, pussy cat, where have you been? I’ve been to London to look at the queen. Pussy cat, pussy cat, what did you do there? I frightened a little mouse under the chair.
Snow lioness Isata silently glided along a narrow path on the mountainside. The night was moonless, and the stars shined especially brightly. It seemed not a single dark spot remained in the entire sky where this light would not reach.
The lioness looked up and saw a shooting star. It was not one of those short flashes one can witness during an autumn starfall – this one looked more like a drop of light flowing down the sky. Isata took a closer look and realized that the star was about to fall on the other side of the ridge. Once the shine was gone, the lioness froze for a moment, listening, and then rushed to the place where the star fell.
Once she reached the mountain, Isata hid in the branches of a bush and observed for a while. Night insects were singing, and cold wind gusts pressed the rough grass down to the rocky ground. Having recognized something new in the familiar mixture of smells, the lioness walked down the slope and noticed a man lying amidst a scorched clearing. He looked completely unharmed, and even his blue and silver clothes were intact. Isata walked around him carefully and, after taking a good sniff, clearly understood that he was not dangerous. The lioness had never seen people so close before, but she knew for sure that they did not fall down from the sky like snow. She approached and examined the newcomer carefully, then she slightly licked his ashen forehead and dark hair with her rough tongue just in case.
With a quiet groan the stranger opened his eyes. When he saw the lioness in front of him, the man was not scared. He raised his hand and placed his fingers on her forehead, above the bridge of her nose. Without having time to get indignant, Isata felt incredible heaviness of her eyelids and slid to where the star man called her.
A bright flash covered the mind of the lioness. Once the light dissipated, Isata found herself in a spacious marble hall with carved columns and a long luminous table, at which sat people in colorful clothes. They paid no attention to the lioness, as if she was not there. A flock of small translucent creatures were circling above the table. Like fish, they were floating and frolicking in the air, as if no gravity was affecting them.
“This is Khabir, the city of Stat, my home.” Isata heard the thoughts of the star man. “It was very beautiful. Under the light of the blue sun, there was prosperity, without any wars or diseases. I was so blinded by the welfare of my people that I completely overlooked one fact: even the brightest light creates shadows.”
Among the colorful figures arguing animatedly Isata saw her new acquaintance. He was sitting at the head of the table, deep in thought. His hair was black and short, his beard was thick and neat, and his kind green eyes looked right through, as if they saw something invisible, hidden from others.
“Kriy, where is your heir? Time is running out,” one of the figures asked, turning to the star man.
“Rasens, we still have a couple of minutes left,” Kriy said, smiling slightly at the impatience.
The dark lacquered wood doors opened, and a man marched into the hall. Judging by the indignant voices, he was not the one everyone expected.
“How dare you come here?” the man at the table, to whom Kriy had been talking a moment before, shouted indignantly.
The star man signaled to them to stop shouting, got up from the table, and moved towards the dark silhouette, but soon froze in his tracks.
“You are Patsovak, aren’t you? Colonel Patsovak?” Kriy asked trying to look the intruder in the eye. He should not have done this…
Although Isata considered herself a brave lioness, she could hardly overcome the urge to close her eyes tight – the colonel’s gaze burned your soul out. Patsovak waved his hand imperiously, and right above the table, where the jellyfish-like creatures used to circle, a dark purple whirlwind rose that instantly enwrapped everyone present.
The vision faded away, and Isata opened her eyes. Kriy patted her head gratefully. The lioness understood that the star man was willing to share the end of the story with her, and this time she pushed her forehead against his palm herself.
A white flash blinded her, but then it dissipated. The lioness realized that she was in a completely different place now. She heard the sounds of falling drops and grinding of metal. Stale air and choking smell of mold between the stones in the walls of an ancient dungeon indicated that she was very deep underground.
There were no sources of light in the cell, except for fluorescent mushrooms growing between mossy cobblestones. However, this did not bother Isata at all: the sharp sight of a nocturnal predator allowed her to navigate even in pitch darkness.
Six gigantic chains hung from the ceiling of the cell, holding the prisoner. This was the star man. He swayed from side to side quietly, humming some melody to himself.
A deafening crick-crack could be heard; then, one of the cell walls simply melted away, flowing hissingly down onto the damp stone floor slabs. A thin man wearing a white coat and glasses appeared in the newly formed passage. He ran up to Kriy and started tampering with the chains.
Kriy shook his head listlessly. “What are you doing, Laurent… leave it, you have to save the others. Where are Ameed and Rasens?”
“The others are already on Earth. Wait a minute! We cannot let him seize your power. Close your eyes!” With these words, Laurent pulled some device from inside his coat with trembling hands and pointed it at Kriy.
A blinding green flash illuminated the dungeon, and Isata shut her eyes reflexively.
“Nasty chains, even the deatomizer won’t break them! What are they made of?” The dissatisfied man stared at the sparkling device, scratching the back of his head.
“It doesn’t matter, Laurent, listen to me!” Kriy did his best to maintain the eye contact. “The most important thing now is to preserve Khabir’s legacy. Listen carefully to what I’m about to tell you. Patsovak doesn’t know that the genesis code can only be transmitted by inheritance or with the consent of all clans. He will never figure it out without the help of a council member. Thus, other worlds are safe.”
Laurent was about to protest, but, on reflection, he put the device aside and took a silver bracelet with a large green stone out of his pocket. “Then you take this,” he said and snapped the piece of jewelry on Kriy’s hand. “While you’re chained, the inaccuracy is too high. But if you manage to break free…”
“Laurent… my dear brave Laurent, I’m begging you, don’t come to me. Take the teleporter and go to Earth to join the others, they need your help more than I do.”
“No, Kriy, I…” The scientist’s eyes were bright with confidence. “I will stay here. I will stay on Khabir to make sure that Patsovak never finds out about the genesis.”
At this, he disappeared. It was perfect timing: the corridor behind the destroyed wall began to fill with excited voices, and then heavy, measured steps were heard.
“Look