Аннотация: The first years of his life in na Mendoir.
Chapter 2. This world, is everything wrong here, or is it...?
Igor (Mendoir, April - June 2358)
April 11, 2358
The slowly rising sun illuminated the peaks of the mountains in the east, they are clearly visible from the window of my room in clear weather. It's been four years since I've been in this world, the world of a computer game that has come to life, so similar and at the same time completely different! It's been a year since I got my hands on a desktop terminal, and I've started a real brainstorming session.
I managed to find answers to almost all my questions: They had never even heard of the Reapers here, there was a huge pile of contradictory information about the Protheans, and most importantly, everyone was absolutely sure that they had built both the Citadel and the repeaters. So, what? The canonical events did not happen! But the most important thing is that there is no certainty that I am connected with them. However, "John" Shepard, like "Ingvar" Shepard, exist in reality, and the most amazing thing is that they are members of the same family!
Yes, on May 22, 2355, my younger brother was born, and my dad, according to the old Russian tradition, named his youngest son Ivan! He is very original! Mom, laughing, told him so. Well, my parents are retired military personnel: my dad is a captain of the first rank (or captain in the Anglo-American rank system), and my mom is a major in the Navy medical service.
Plus, I'm a colonist from Mendoir, just like in the game, but in a crowd. And as far as I could remember, in the game, the colonist's entire family is killed, after which he (she) goes into the army. I'll get out of my skin, but I won't let them kill my family!
After Vanka was born, they pushed taking care of me onto my older brothers and our wonderful cat! The brothers were not particularly pleased, but the redhead seemed to be just happy. The mustachioed babysitter followed me around the house, played, slept, and accompanied me on trips to the center of the town. And after the brothers were allowed to take me out with them, Barsik and I became as much a part of the children's company in our village as my brothers, their Turian friends, Azat and Fawzan, the sons of the same Dr. Dahi, their Azari girlfriends named Binna, the daughters of Dr. Ratnate, and a small a Turian, my age, Nasar, the younger brother of Azat and Fawzan. Last September, I went to the local kindergarten equivalent, where a lot of amazing discoveries awaited me.
The clock on my desk read 6:30 a.m. Although a day on Mendoir is longer than a day on Earth by as much as 9 minutes, a year is shorter by 7 days. So we live by the time of the Alliance of Systems, that is, Greenwich Mean Time on Earth, plus a sunset-sunrise correction. The clock is periodically adjusted according to the signal of the planetary control virtin. The whole family is still asleep, but I get up earlier than everyone else and do exercises. A few classical exercises with weights on my arms and legs over two years of training have made me very strong for my age, improved flexibility, coordination of movements and motor skills. I also started working with a pole. I remember well the weakness of the first year of my life and I want to be strong. Thank the extranet for the huge number of all kinds of video tutorials on physical education! The main language of the colony was Russian, although English was spoken by everyone, of course, the main language of the Alliance. Plus, they spoke in "basic" or basic galactic, aka "galact". It was developed by the Salarians, together with the Asari, as much as two and a half thousand years ago. Well, all the "strangers" spoke their native languages perfectly, a natural Babylon 5, not Mendoir!
Right now, I'm pretty well developed for a human boy my age. The body is strong and flexible enough to be able to enter the youth corps of the Navy for officer training.
I heard noises on the ground floor, probably mom got up and went to cook breakfast, and it's time for me to take a shower, brush my teeth and generally get ready. My brothers will take me to the garden soon.
Five hours later
There are also a whole bunch of youngsters from almost all races of the Citadel Space who go to my garden. And who is not in our, still junior, group: ten people of all colors and races, three Asari, three Turians (two boys and a girl), two Batarian girls! And, like the icing on the cake... the drell guy! That's such a gang of nineteen bullies! Our group has two Azari teachers, both purple. The head of the group, Rien Vais, and her assistant, Taya T'dari. Since I'm considered a kind of child prodigy here, I've already kind of "learned" how to read. Looking at me, my whole group learned to read, after all, children of any kind have a very developed imitative instinct. They still read poorly, but that's not even four years old. As far as I've found out, almost all children develop about the same way, even Azari.
To my wide-eyed question, our parents: "Why is this, because Azari live for a very long time and are considered adults from the age of one hundred?" she received a very detailed answer. The Asari's maturation has three stages. The first stage, from birth to about fifteen years of age, is due to rapid growth and development, and intellectual abilities develop during this period of life. At the age of fifteen or sixteen, physical development slows down sharply, but does not stop, and a young Azari, who looks like a human girl of 13-14 years old, begins to improve intellectually. They study a lot, train, harden their mind and body, and this stage lasts up to about 45-55 years. Then the third stage of growing up begins: the young Azari begins hormonal restructuring, she grows up a little more, gets rounded in all the right places, and her mental abilities begin to develop. It is at this time that Asari are taught to work with biotics and merge their consciousnesses in the so-called "embrace of eternity". Of course, the speed of development is very dependent on individual characteristics. Well, just like people. The racial composition of the Mendoir colony is actually more extensive, but since Salarians or Vorks develop much faster than others, it was considered unnecessary to include their children in general groups. You're probably asking, where does Vorka come from? As the local online encyclopedia suggested to me, the vork is actually a fairly advanced species, maybe inferior to humans and Turians in intelligence, but with a huge adaptation resource! In the Vorka Citadel Space, they are mostly employed in the mining industry, and as it turns out, they are excellent miners who are able to work in conditions where most members of other races simply die. That's why they work in the mines on Mendoir and live in large clans in mining villages. They rarely leave the villages themselves, and almost no one is allowed in, in general, they are recluses. And those thieves who hang out in all kinds of gangs are exiles from clans, complete outcasts and lumpens. For a Vorka, with their lifespan of thirty standard years, exile from the clan is the most terrible punishment. Because women are never expelled. Our planet Mendoir actually belongs to the Asari Republic, and it is considered a human colony because the Rosenkov Materials Corporation has concluded a concession agreement with the Council of matriarchs for 20% of the total share of resource extraction. Since the corporation has little interest in the troubles of the Alliance of Systems Council, it hired staff for colonization, not really looking at race, but more at the professional qualities of the employees. Wow, I've been thinking about something on the tree... And they're going to congratulate me! So they built a round dance, put me in the center and, to the general screeching and squeaking, they began to sing: "How did we bake a loaf on Igor's name day..." Of course, I'm making a happy appearance, but I want to laugh, I won't save you! Oh well, I'll get over it. Even on the first day in kindergarten, two small Turian ringleaders tried to build the whole group. And they built it, but they broke off on me. Well, it's not a small thing to compete with an adult in psychological pressure, even in a child's body. But I can also fight in sparring. They got a lot of abrasions and bruises and calmed down, and now with all their problems, the little ones go to them first, and then, if their solution does not suit the little ones, to me. To be honest, it bothers me beyond words...
By the way! I have a girlfriend and a boyfriend here. One is a Turian kid named Nasar, the son of the same Dr. Dahi. A great friend of Daddy's, a partner in the preference game. Actually, they've been friends since the Navy days, when my dad served as captain of the light cruiser Loki, and Dahi Tanir was the chief physician on the Turian dreadnought Smasher, and they, as it turned out, jointly chased Batarian pirates in the Skillian Reach. And they were catching up to the point that dad thundered to Dahi in the infirmary, because the infirmary on Loki was blown apart by a direct missile hit. The second friend is Avanti Natol Batarian, and I met her at our ranch. Her dad is my assistant, and mine is my deputy. chief engineer of the enrichment complex of the corporation. And the chief engineer of the complex is a Quarian named Aegih'RIGAR, and the corporation values him so much that they ordered him a special house, no less than ours, by the way, completely sealed, with filtration and disinfection systems, and a huge glass bay window. It stands in our village on the second street called Strawberry, and Uncle Aegikh, having taken off his suit and put on a bathrobe, likes to sit in the bay window, admiring the life of the village.
The most amazing thing is that he differs from a human only by a slightly different ear structure, there were four fingers. And his face looks more like an elf from fairy tales, with light lilac glowing eyes and pointed tips of ears. It's idiotic to make aliens three-fingered! Try to hold the rifle with three fingers and shoot at the same time. Igrodels suck! And his fingers, just like a pianist's, are long and flexible. And there are steel claws on the gloves of the skaf. At first I didn't understand why, I thought it was a weapon, until I saw how it worked on the toolbox. There are two times fewer buttons there than my father's, and twice as many buttons themselves. I once asked my dad how cool Uncle Aegikha's toolbox was, and he just rolled his eyes.
They sang a round dance and pulled me to the table, there is a cake. I saw through the window how his mother brought him and put him on the veranda of the group. A hefty cake, by the way, though, for twenty-one children's mouthfuls - in one bite. A hefty pot of compote was brought here from the dining room. And here, as it has already turned out, there is no trace of any poisonous food from dextroamacids. At least the Turians ate everything they could. But Azari and Salars are very picky about their food. The Kvarin preferred generally sterilized Turian food. Humans, like Krogan and Batarian humans, had some food preferences, but they could eat anything if they wanted to. Of course, all races have dietary restrictions. So my cake is universal, suitable for all races ... which, alas, does not add to its taste.
That reminds me! One day Uncle Dahi came to visit us with his family: his wife and three children. His eldest sons are the same age as my older brothers, and since we are also neighbors, they are bosom friends, and all the mischief in the village is the work of my brothers and their Turian friends, plus Dr. Ratnait's daughters, as it turned out, are also our neighbors.
Her name is Ratnait T'rann. Uncle Dahya's wife's name is Kasia, and she is a housewife. So, when they all came to us for the first time, my younger brother turned exactly one year old. We sat and chatted. Cassia told the legends about the history of the Turians and their spirits. Tael was sipping vodka through a straw, playing preference with Dad and Dahi. Well, we were playing monopoly in a tight group.
We ate the cake and drank the compote. There's a really awesome pool here in the garden, and I love swimming. In general, the Azari love the pool the most, they feel like fish in it, you can't drive them out. Then there are people, it depends on individual preferences. Batarians are indifferent. Turians rather do not like, although they swim with pleasure on the shoals. But our Drell doesn't wear it. They built a dry room for him in the pantry, where the humidity is about five percent, and there are some salts in the air that are useful for drells. This is probably the prevention of Kapral's syndrome. And his name is Feron!
Two months later. The Whisper Ranch
It's time for the holidays, so I'm sitting on the porch of our house right now, with an album on my lap, and pretending to draw. In fact, I shamelessly warm my ears listening to the conversation between my father and his assistant, the Batarian Anker Natol, sitting on wicker chairs in the middle of the lawn. Avanti is sitting next to her, with a similar album on her lap, and, sticking out her tongue from diligence, she is drawing something with colored pencils. Actually, she has a real gift for drawing. What I do with effort and effort, she does somehow by herself. After introducing her to the album and showing her the basics, I was just amazed at how fast she was progressing. She should be an artist! Even now, when I looked at her album, I saw our cat lying on the grass with a lazy expression on his face, and all this in small strokes, and so accurately conveys the mood.... Alas, I can never do that.
"Listen, Anker," my father says, "What's wrong with you, you haven't been yourself for the second week, what happened?"
"I haven't heard from my brother for a long time. Neither from himself, nor from his family. Saer is worried!"
"I thought you said his contract was ending. I got him engaged to us, agreed with the Agehik, he punched the management. Everyone agrees to accept him and his family."
"That seems to be the problem. Someone must have betrayed my brother for lathering up to us, and in the border systems of the Hegemony they look askance at this."
"This way, normal conditions would be created for the reasonable, and they would not have to catch their own population trying to run away wherever they look, just to get away from their native state."
"This is what you have here at RM, just like in the legends. At first, we all couldn't believe that this was happening. I kept waiting for a trick, when they would start to squeeze. It was only a year later that I believed that everything that was written in the contract was being fulfilled."
"The main resource of any state or corporation, even a family, is people. These are not factories, steamships, ships and junk. These are the ones who create, produce, mine, build, transport, and raise the next generation. Invest in the sensible ones, and you'll get a hundredfold return. RM has been pursuing such a policy for two hundred years, so the corporation is in third place in the list of the strongest companies in the Alliance of Systems, and it is included in the hundred of Citadel Space. What about the Hegemony?"
"I'm not arguing, Michael. I'm not arguing... I'm just worried about my brother."
"Shall we have a drink? Would you like some cognac?"
"What? The real one? Terran?"
"Yeah! Moldovan! Maybe not the best, but still. A friend gave it to me, my friends on Earth bought it, and they sent the box to me. Ah... pour it. I'll try again.
The father went into the house, and Anker stared at the sky with a kind of detached look. His emotions were filled with longing and fear, but there was a hint of hope somewhere. That's right, Uncle Anker is a normal man. Kind, hardworking, good-looking, straight arms. Dad is very pleased with him. And Hegemony is just such a dump with slavery from the lower castes, with bonded contracts... wolfish capitalism in all its glory. I once asked him, "Uncle Anker, why do your people put up with all this, and not take up arms and restore order in the country?" He replied that only overseers, police, army and family members of corporate heads can have weapons in the Hegemony. The rest, if caught with a gun, immediately die. Well, except for the pirate squads, those are actually supported and under the roof of the same corporations. In general, hopelessness. That leaves the Batarians to run anywhere, mostly to the Omega.
"Da-ad! Da-ad! Look how I drew a Barsik!" Gina came skipping up to him.
"Well, let me see," Coel took the album and stared at the drawing with admiration.
"Do you like it?" Avanti asked, looking lovingly at her father.
"Very!" Anaker replied and hugged his daughter tightly to him.
He loved his daughter. I loved her so much that I could feel it from afar. My father loves me very much too, but here it was just painful. Gina feels it and twists the ropes out of her father just like that. Even now, he's clutching her so tightly, as if he's afraid she'll disappear.
"Dad! You'll strangle me!" Gina wheezed.
Then my father came out of the house, holding a bottle and two glasses in his left hand, and a saucer with sliced lemon in his right. He put everything on the table, sat down in an armchair, opened a bottle that made a "pou" sound, and poured the golden liquid into glasses.
"For luck, Anchor! Your brother will need it!"
" Good luck, Michael!"
They clinked glasses.
Avanti is already back next to me on the porch, and again she is drawing something on a new sheet, periodically glancing at me. Her emotions are filled with fun and some kind of... adoration. Why she treats me like this, I just don't understand. Can she feel me? When I was the Messiah before, children and teenagers always stuck to me.
***
I myself am red-haired and green-eyed, and my hair is such a bright color that I stand out among the kindergarten kids like a fly agaric on moss. Seen from afar. And my eye color is malachite green, bright and saturated. The doctors were perplexed at first, they said that people do not have such an eye color. Dad also kept wondering who I was like, there had never been any redheads in the family, either on my father's side or on my mother's. The father himself is light-haired and blue-eyed, a true Northerner. Mom has dark blond hair, with almost steel-gray eyes. And all the brothers, who are more like their father, who are like their mother, I'm the only one with red hair. Although I'm not offended. I'm always red-haired when I come as the messiah. But it's the first time I've had such greenish eyes. Damn, they almost glow in the dark.
Anyway, we decided to check it out. They took my blood, went to a hospital in the city, did an analysis with the construction of a model for deciphering the genetic code, and got a blue-eyed blond man. We were very surprised, rechecked, and the result remained unchanged.
Then Uncle Dahi and Aunt Ratnet got caught up in professional curiosity: How can this be? We picked up the mother's medical record, checked all the events during pregnancy and found out that, at the sixth month, an accident occurred at the enrichment complex: a pipeline with some kind of terrible chemical reagent for extracting element zero from the rock broke! A lot of intelligent people were poisoned, it's a good thing they didn't die. Well, then my mother worked in a factory emergency room and, helping the victims, she also got poisoned. That's how this reagent worked on me. How many arguments did we have in the kitchen about this?... Exposure to the "zero element" seemed to be a plus, but so far no effects have been noticeable. Anyway, it's not bad for me to be a redhead. I've already gotten used to my fiery hair. And my red wings look beautiful on her background.
"Hey, hey! Igor! Ava-anti! Let's go for a walk!" there was a loud shout from the gate. Nasar was swinging on it like on a swing.
"And where will we go?" Jean asked.
It doesn't matter. Let's go to Uncle Aegikh, let him tell us a story about the Fleet.
"Come on!" I say and throw the album on the porch. Avanti puts hers carefully, before closing and putting the pencils in the box. Keep an eye on them! I hear my father's voice and, turning around, I see a Barsik trotting after us.