kayangel

The Glass Casket, Part 8

The Master Smith was already famous, even on a backwater rock like Beta Aeco. Prince Callalli had survived more assassination attempts than any other royal in the known galaxy before he hit puberty. They say he started tinkering in his crib and, having spoken to his mother, I know it to be not far from the truth. At ten, a few of his toys ended the 30-Year War on Omega Belator for his daddy in 3 days. Over the next couple years he terraformed a dozen or more planets and moons--the ones no one else would touch--to give to his sisters for their birthdays, and then he started on his crèche-mates’ gifts. The armor he gifted the Epsilon’s Alpha is still considered state of the art and is one of the prettiest pieces I’ve ever had the pleasure to lay eyes on. If a world had tech or wanted it, they knew of the Master Smith and spent fortunes getting his work by the time he was sixteen.

And then he disappeared. One minute dancing at the biggest bash in six galaxies and then, at midnight, BANG! He was gone. 

Cursed, they said, among a bunch of other crap. No one knew what had happened to the boy, and the story made the rounds, along with news of a sizable bounty for any info on his whereabouts. Not all of it offered by his family and friends, if you get my drift. Of course, I was just a bit of thing when it happened, and the story was just that by the time I heard it--all story and few facts--but the bounty remained. You could find bulletins in any public forum on the known worlds, and probably on a few unlisted ones as well. 

I had a few fantasies as a child about finding the prince. OK, more than a few. He was a favorite invisible playmate for years, and when I grew up, so did the fantasies. There were a couple years in my teens, I kept a copy of one of his posters hidden in my pillow.

Kinda like Cillia over there keeps that popray of--OK, OK. My lips are sealed, which means y’all need to head on back. Ah, ha-ha-ha! Listen to you whine. You’d think you all might actually have ta work for a living. Apprentices today. So, my way or the door-way. Got it this time?

Now let me tell you, that poster--and my imagination--had nothing on what was in that casket. 

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kayangel

The Glass Casket, Part 7

In one was a tiny scale representation of the galaxy. Movement within drew me closer until I pressed my face against the glass like a child at a candy dispensary, for it was a perfect replica. Stars danced inside, planets rolling in their orbits around them, clouds shifting in their skies, tiny ships lifted from stations, winking between gates to land systems away. 

Huh. I might be there still if I hadn't caught the tiny sound of an indrawn breath. By that time, I was so used to being alone in the silence that I damn near wet my pants from sheer shock. 

Of course it was shock. I know the difference between fear and shock, ya little brat. You want to hear more of this story? Then quiet down and let me tell it. No respect, these days, I swear! Now where was I? Oh, yes...

Whirling around, I saw him. Locked in the other casket was a man, the most perfect man I've ever seen, then or now. Bound into a chamber that kept him in an almost perfect stasis. If I hadn't found him that day, I might've believed him dead and kept searching, for he'd not have needed another breath for weeks. That casket was a miracle of science, as sweet a piece of engineering I'd ever seen. Cryztaal, the hardest substance and most ornery to biogineer, grown as thick as my hand and still as clear as glass, made up the bulk of the casket. They'd worked a bunch of the circuitry into the cryztaal casement, delicate traceries like runes, glowing around the edges. 

But I drooled over his casket later. Much, much, MUCH later.

Because, laid out naked as the day he'd been birthed but ever so much more of him to drool over, was that perfect specimen of masculinity. Solid muscle from the surprisingly suckable toes clear up to his perfectly carved features. And I knew that face. Not that it surprises you, being as this your favorite tale, but that is when I first laid eyes on Callalli, the Master Smith.

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kayangel

The Glass Casket, Part 6

Which took a while. I wandered through hall after hall, room after room, some themed, some colored, some bright, some gloomy. Eventually I gave in to my hunger and copped a squat on one of the myriad sofas--not a white one, of which there were more than a plenty, 'cause days of dirt and old blood equals eewww that would never've come out of those silks or velvets--and had myself a quick meal from the provisions in my pack. 

It wasn't a hardship as the old guy had done a right decent job packing a variety of flashpax, provided me with a solid, tasty square. With time to do a thorough look, I had a few days worth of pax, some bags of dried nuts and berries, and two full canteens of water all wrapped in a spare set of clothes and a blanket. I'd need to find water or chip some ice if I didn't find someone soon. Just the thought of facing that cold again brought fatigue crashing to the front of my brain. I set my chronometer for a few hours, wrapped myself in the blanket, and caught a nap.

That set the pattern for the next few days. Wander through rooms, marking doors with my tailor's chalk to indicate which direction I'd taken until hunger drove me to eat. Then a quick nap and on my way again. I was beginning to fret a bit about food, having been out for ice twice already, when I finally stumbled on the trick. And no, you don't need to know how those rooms work.  Suffice it to say, there is one and anyone with a will and a while can figure it out. 

So, as I was saying, I figured out the trick of it, and I found the center. A room of crystal so clear it could have been plaz. Hollows had been carved out along the way and the faceted niches filled with tall phials filled with various colored liquids and vapors. Lightning flashed around them, drawing the eye, but eventually my attention found the two caskets set opposite each other near the center of the room.

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kayangel

I scrambled to the edge and saw him bouncing from one impossibly tiny--and distant--foothold to the next until he vanished behind the next mountain. My breath rushed out in a cloud that almost froze my lips. Without the cursor's huge body generating heat, this little slice of nowhere was rapidly becoming uninhabitable.

I took a swift inventory of my pack--made quicker by the chill--and discovered the venerat had indeed packed supplies for me, including fresh medicinals for my now mostly healed back. No better sign he had not intended this outcome. The kit included some expensive antibiotics and new-skin patches beyond even my master's means at the height of his trade. Settling it carefully on my back, I explored the ledge and found only a large crevice. Leading into the mountain, it was barely large enough for a small man but easily wide enough for me to squeeze into once my pack was again off my back. 

I spent a few seconds worrying, but the venerat beast had said inside and it was the only inside available. I didn't waste more than a few seconds because I started losing feeling in my fingers and toes, which even a novice like me knew wasn't good. I shimmied my way out of the wind gratefully, if cautiously.

Perhaps a dozen sideways steps inside, the crevice widened, then sheered off into walls. Shining, polished walls rising up from a marble-paved floor and leading to vaulted ceiling arches, painted and gilded with visions of half a dozen galaxial garden spots. 

I don't know quite how long I stood there gawking, but it was long enough for the frost on my clothes and lips to melt and begin pattering on the floor.  That was when I noticed the carvings in the floor. Each marble square was covered in patterns of the alien script, glowing a sickly yellow-red and giving off a faint heat. It wasn't just being out of the wind that had me thawing. Not that you could feel it standing, but I, being the curious sort, got down to on hands and knees to check. Thawed my nose right out, but not hot enough to burn even when you touched the glow directly.

Well, anyplace where the lights and heat were on, there would be someone home somewhere, sooner or later, even if the venerat was no more than a crazy old alien, so I set out to find them first. 

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I'm always happy to receive helpful critiques and suggestions, so let me know what you think. I'd also like to hear if you have any questions, on content, fairy tales, etc.