# Path book 1 Jane. chapter 8-4

Аноним Yagger

A show about the Protheans with Liara. Eugene's confession to Ham about the Reapers.

Chapter 8.4 A show about the Protheans with Liara.

A garish screensaver flashed by with loud music.

"Good morning, reasonable people! This is Diana Allers, and this is the morning show "Good Morning, Citadel"! Today we will talk about the protheans and their role in the formation of our civilization. Jeremy Epstein, a prominent political scientist and media expert, is with us in the program. And also, in the second half of the program, xenoarchaeologists from the international archaeological expedition are our guests with new data that they brought back from the expedition that just ended!"

I wonder how old she is? He couldn't have been more than eighteen. And who put her on the morning show, I wonder?

"Hmm, Lady Provocation!" It's coming from Eugene. "Already on the air..."

A fat guy with a sugary smile appears on the screen, sits sprawled in an armchair and begins to talk absolute banality, and all this with the most serious look. Boo! Where did they find this unpleasant guy?!

Eugene says again,

"And blah, blah, blah! No intelligence, no imagination - just aplomb and not a drop of knowledge of the subject. Where do they get these freaks from, clone them or something? Three hundred years have passed, nothing has changed! I picked up on the tops - and there, too, media expert, political idiot! Stupid idiot! Ugh!" My sister whispers angrily.

"Come on, Little Fox!" he answers Tam. "Forget about him! You've got him, he's messing with something, so let him mess with it! Come on, play."

Vasil inserts his five cents:

"It will be interesting to listen to archaeologists, but really forget about these talkers, Zhen! Oh, you have two sixes, go!"

I hear my father's voice from the kitchen:

"I'm playing six of spades!"

"Six clubs!"

"No, I'll pass!"

"Seven spades!"

"I'll pass too!"

"Play, Dakar!"

"Grandpa, Grandpa! I want to piss!" Sei whines, tugging at his sweater.

"Zhenya, we're going to your room, okay?" Grandfather asks. Eugene, without distracting himself from the game, makes an indefinite gesture with his hand. This probably means agreement. Grandfather understood that, and went upstairs.

Mikhail's voice:

"Well, maybe fifty drops?"

"I'm in favor!"

"Me too!" Father and Tael answer.

"Pour it out, Mishka, and don't forget your father!"

"Dakar, get out the glasses!"

The refrigerator door slammed. And Tael's satisfied voice:

"Oh, cognac! Is it smuggling again?"

"What contraband! Innuendos! To be honest, one of our guys from the ore carrier brings it to me! They carry iridium concentrate to Earth, and that's where it's stored in exchange for skins."

"Eh! It's a pity, no one flies to the Hierarchy!" says the father. "Otherwise, I would have ordered a "Crizzer". I have a lot of skins."

"It's a picky thing, but it's very sweet! I liked it when you treated me that time at the Citadel. Although, he can negotiate with our people who fly to Bekenstein. You can get any kind of booze in this sewer! The criminal bosses there don't like to limit themselves! And "Krise" is a status drink. I'll hang out with my friends in Gagarin, and maybe I'll come to an agreement with someone. Another one?" Mikhail asked.

"Let's!"

"I agree."

"Where's Grandpa?"

"Well, apparently, "pee" turned out to be "not just pee"! So we're waiting."

There's still the same pompous greedy guy in the holovision, what can he talk about for so long? Okay, I take the datapad and try to memorize the story again. The advertising block went on - as always, louder than the program itself, again weight loss products, shampoos from everything in the world, rags, perfumes and other very necessary rubbish! They probably think we're morons....


"And good morning again! With you in the studio, Diana Allers and prominent political scientist and media expert Jeremy Epstein, we continue the morning show "Good morning, Citadel!". As I promised, our guests have just returned from an international archaeological expedition. Prominent xenoarchaeologists are Marek Jankulowski, Professor of the Department of Xenoarchaeology at Moscow State University, and Liara T'Soni, Doctor of Xenoarchaeology from Tessia. Welcome!" A tall, youthful and fair-haired man dressed in a light green unik, and a young, very beautiful Azari in exactly the same unik appear on the screen.

Zhenya roused herself and looked closely at Azari, and on the verge of hearing, I caught my sister's whisper:

"So that's what you are, Liara T'Soni, the Azari from my dreams!"

The little sister wrapped herself in biotics, and the holovision remote control lying on the back of the sofa flew into her hand. The volume control crept up, and everyone left their business and started watching the show. Even Nova looked up from her book.

Moderator: "Dear scientists, we are glad to see you in our studio, and hello again!"

PROFESSOR: "Hello!"

The DOCTOR: "Hello."

M: "How was the expedition?"

P: "In general, it was very successful, we found very valuable samples and quite a lot of information, we flew well! Really, Dr. T'Soni?"

D: "Yes, yes, Professor. The joint work has brought a lot of data, which, however, still needs to be processed ... but some conclusions can already be made public."

The expert: "Gentlemen scientists, can you finally give an answer? Where and why did the Protheans disappear?!"

M: "Yes, yes! Everyone is extremely interested in this! Do you have an answer?"

P: "There is no definite answer yet! But the further we investigate the problem, the clearer one version becomes."

E: "What's the theory, Professor?"

P: "The Protheans did not disappear, but were destroyed!"

M: "Destroyed?!"

E: "Pfft! Professor! What do you mean, destroyed? By whom? Who could destroy the most powerful civilization of the past?! It's impossible!"

P: "Well, why is that? It is quite possible!"

D: "In some of the restored archives, we find references to those who destroyed them - the Protheans called them "Reapers"!"

The hubbub and laughter in the studio.

E: "Professor, the Protheans have built repeaters and a Citadel! But they are still there and they work fine, because you and I are just at the Citadel. And you say they were destroyed? Why didn't they destroy these facilities?"

P: "You see, uh?.."

E: "Jeremy Epstein, Professor!"

P: "So, Jeremy, according to the latest research data, the Citadel and the repeaters are much older than the rest of the Prothean artifacts found!"

E: "And how ancient is it?!"

P: "Rather, the term "how many times" ancient is appropriate here! And you can talk about it dozens of times! We can confidently say that the Citadel and the repeaters have been around for millions of years!

E: "But, Professor! Your statements completely contradict the official conclusions! The leading scientists of the Republic and the Union have established that the Citadel and the repeaters were built by the Protheans."

D: "Well, first of all, we didn't establish it, but assumed it! And secondly, we are using data from the latest scanning experiments, both from the Citadel and the repeaters. And these data show that these objects are several million years old!"

M: "Dr. T'Soni, how old are you?"

D: "I'm 84 years old, but what does it matter..."

E: "But wait! By Asari standards, you're still underage! And you're trying to tell us that all scientists are wrong, and you yourself are, in fact, still a child, telling the truth?"

D: "I'm not pretending to be the truth, I'm just talking about research data! And I've been doing protean research for almost thirty years now!"

P: "That's right! And I, in turn, want to say that Dr. T'Soni is a great specialist and a wonderful scientist! I am very happy working with her!"

M: "And what kind of "Reapers" are these, Dr. T'Soni? Can you tell?"

D: "As far as we have been able to understand from the reconstructed, fragmentary and incomplete data of the Protheans, the "Reapers" are an ancient race of machines. Very ancient and very powerful."

E: "Pfft! Cars? Is it like the Geth, or what? Ha ha ha! And we have to believe that some crazy Russian in the company of a teenage Azari has found the reason for the disappearance of the Proteans! Everything you've told us here is complete nonsense!"

P: "Young man, who gave you the right to insult me and, moreover, Dr. T'Soni?! Who are you, anyway?!"

E: "I am a political scientist and a media expert!"

P: "And a media expert is, excuse me, an expert in what?"

Eh: "Uh... professor?"

P: "That is, some pompous Jew who does not know what he is an expert in will be me, a hereditary noble, a world-renowned scientist, the author of more than a hundred scientific papers - works recognized, by the way, by all races of the Citadel, and my assistant, a very worthy scientist from the Azari race Saying that we're nuts and talking nonsense?! What is it possible to talk about and with whom here?!"

E: "Professor, you are an anti-Semite, even, I'm not afraid of this word, a fascist!"

P: "How dare you!"

A hubbub is rising in the studio, the audience in the hall is whistling and hooting, bursts of laughter are rolling, the presenter is running around and trying to calm everyone down. The camera captures Dr. T'Soni as a young Azari sits with tears in her eyes and crumples a handkerchief in her hands. A professor and a political scientist are arguing bitterly in the background.

M: "Gentlemen! Gentlemen! Please calm down! What are you, like children, really?!"

P: "When, at your very insistent request, Miss Allers, I accepted an invitation to your show, I had no idea that you would think of inviting a half-educated journalist with the intelligence of a hamadryad as an expert! Who, instead of normal arguments, can only insult his opponents! I'm really sorry, but Dr. T'Soni and I have nothing else to do on your show! I have the honor! Come on, Liara, we don't belong here."

And, taking Azari by the hand, the archaeologist, amid whistles and laughter, quickly leaves the studio.


Suddenly, the holovision goes out. Everyone is looking at Eugene, who has a remote control in her hands.

"Zhen? Why did you turn it off?" Vasil asked.

My little sister is sitting all drooping, with a dull look.

"There's nothing else to see. And I don't feel like playing anymore, so I'm going to my room. Forgive me..."

Getting up and shivering, Eugene walks around his grandfather, who is standing in the aisle, and goes upstairs.

"What's the matter with her?" Grandfather asks.

"It's strange! Everything seemed to be fine, then this show with archaeologists... these "Reapers"! What did these archaeologists say that made her react so strangely?.." Vasil speaks softly.

"Who will understand the Seer? It feels like she knows something! He knows, and he keeps this knowledge in silence," Ray picked up.

"Those dreams of hers!.." heard from Dayan.

"And what about dreams?" Grandma asks.

"I'll talk to her," the grandfather says.

"No, Grandfather!" I stop him. "I'd rather."

"Let Hame do it, she trusts him the most," Denis tells his grandfather.


I go upstairs and click on the hologram of my sister's room door opening. She is sitting on the carpet by the window, as she says, "in Turkish." I walk over and sit behind her, hugging her. She snuggles up to me and starts talking in a low voice.

"They can't hear, Hame! They don't want to hear anything that doesn't fit into their usual worldview! Like ostriches, they stick their heads in the sand and think there's no danger! But it's there! Do you hear, brother, they will come and fall on our heads like a punishing sword. Cold and ruthless laboratory assistants in black armor, and we are like mold in test tubes! They will come and wash us away, as they washed away the Protean, Inusannon and many, many before them.... And politicians will keep saying until the very last moment that people like Liara and Professor Yankulovsky are fanning the panic and talking nonsense! Well, prominent scientists thousands of years ago proved that this is how it is - and nothing else! Even when they see everything with their own eyes, they will say that this cannot be, because it can never be! And trillions will pay for their stupidity and blindness. Trillions, do you hear, Hame?! There will be no safe place for any of the races in our entire galaxy."

"Who are they, Eugene? Who are you talking about?"

"They are the true masters of this galaxy, it was they who built the Citadel and the repeaters, they created our civilization, they created it within the framework they needed! They know everything about us... just everything! And when the time comes, they will destroy us! I do not know their self-names, the Protheans called them Reapers."

"Why are they doing this?"

"I don't know! No one but themselves will answer this question. What for? Why carefully cultivate civilizations, nurture, elevate... and then ruthlessly destroy them?!"

"When? When will it all start? Do you know, Zhen?"

"In a little over twenty years, and I'm the key to our victory or defeat, me or Vanka. Only the two of us can decide our common fate."

"You?"

"Hame, if I die, be by Ivan's side when it all starts! You'll understand when things come to a terrible end, you'll understand! Let me go for a while."

She got up, went to her desk, opened a drawer, and rummaged through it, pulling out a piece of paper. She came and sat in front of me, and I hugged her again.

"Look! If you see reports of a huge ship that looks like this... He gives me a sheet with a strange leaf-shaped object painted on it, with six thick paws sticking out from the bottom. This strange ship (upon closer inspection, it became clear that the object was artificial) was black in color. "So that's it! If you see reports of such a ship, know that there are three years left before a full-scale invasion, or a little less, maybe a little more, but not much. All right, Hame?"

"All right, Eugene! What makes you think you're going to die? Why such terrible thoughts?"

"I'm scared, Hame! Very, very scary! The most terrible war in the history of the galaxy is inevitably coming upon us! It will be so monstrous that we cannot even imagine! And anything can happen, the galaxy is a dangerous place...."

"But maybe we should tell the adults?"

"And what are we going to tell them, Hame? That I have nightmares in which an unknown race of machines destroys all sentients in the galaxy?! They didn't believe the scientists! Did you see? Scientists! They were booed and ridiculed. And they'll just roll me into a madhouse and feed me pills like crazy."

"And the parents?"

"What about the parents? I don't want to pin this on them - let them live in happy ignorance. Can you just imagine what it's like to know that your children are doomed to fight an enemy that is almost impossible to defeat? To a war in which they will most likely all die?!"

"Will I be able to carry it around?"

"I'm sorry, but I just can't carry this alone anymore! And you're the only one I can tell this to! You'll believe me and you'll never tell anyone what you've learned. You, the one who loves and trusts me! He trusts you even more than everyone else! And he loves you more than anyone else, too...."

"But... how can I help you?"

"I don't know... but in some of my dreams I see you-you're next to me, out there in the burning galaxy. In the midst of pain and death, in the realm of despair... I see you next to me! My older brother, my Hame..."