by M. Arcturus
Shadow stepped with importance down the mirror-floored corridor toward Juron’s chamber, his black feathered cloak making a light shushing sound as it glided across the floor behind him. The gold charms on his snug-fitting, black doublet bounced with each driven step. His white hair was cut in a fiery style that matched his temper, which often flared with even more intensity. As he neared the Governor’s Chamber, he noticed the last two guards were ready to intervene when he gestured “no” by moving his index finger from left to right and then added, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” His voice was wild and forceful as his warning echoed throughout the hall. With his hands, Shadow projected a gust of energy at the doors of the Chamber, flinging them wide open. Juron sat there in his chair peering at him from across the room. Surprised by the interruption, Juron quickly closed the wooden box in his hand and placed it inside one of his desk drawers.
“What do you mean you don’t have the time to meet with me?” demanded Shadow. With a tiny gesture from Shadow’s lowered hand, the doors of the Chamber closed behind him.
Juron was clearly furious with Shadow, “How dare you invite yourself into my office!”
“I wouldn’t have to if you were more available,” Shadow said critically as he sat down in one of the chairs in front of Juron’s desk. He crossed his legs and swept his long white bang out of his eye. Nothing in his cool, calm dignified composure gave even the slightest hint of his previous temperamental outburst, with the exception of the gold earrings in his right ear, which chimed when they struck each other. He wore thick eyeliner that ran from the corner of his eyes, along the edge of his eye lid, all the way across to his temple. The brown sparkling pigment of the eyeliner accented his unique turquoise eyes by echoing their bronze centers, making them more piercing than usual.
“The Atlantean Council is pushing for the monthly conference. You know how troublesome they can be when you don’t respond to their request in a timely fashion. I, alone, arrive here today to express the urgency for a response to their growing impatience.”
Juron looked at him and understood that Shadow’s situation was a bit more overwhelming than his own. “Then what about the day after tomorrow? How will you arrange an actual time in terms of Atlantis?”
“We’re currently attached to land. I could use the ‘in-landers’ time to set the meeting. That should appease them, although I’m beginning to wonder when Atlantis will be leaving this god forsaken location. You have finished your treasure hunt, haven’t you?” Shadow continued, “And where is the Celestial Sphere?” Shadow pressed a little harder, “You do know where the Celestial Sphere is, right?” After a long pause, Shadow said forcefully, “Before the Council, I will be posing the proposition to relocate.”
“The Celestial Sphere?” Juron let his mind drift to the Elders, who hadn’t taught them enough about the sphere before they left centries ago. Shadow caught him staring across the room, completely unfocused.
“Hey Juron, are you still with me? You’re staring off into space.” Once Shadow had Juron’s attention again he continued, “Yes, you know the Celestial Sphere. It’s a globe that looks like the planet Earth. It continually illuminates with a blueish-white glow, and when activated, you use your finger to press the location of where you want to be, and indicate when you want to be there. Then, the Celestial Sphere shifts the fabric of time and space around to magically poof the isle to wherever you want to be.”
“Yes. Yes. I know what it does, and I know where it is. And no, the scouting teams have not found the golden statue of Monte-Jorge yet. That blasted statue keeps evading me!”
Shadow thought back on all of Juron’s excursions for treasure. Juron would do nearly anything for the promise of exquisite artifacts. “I bet that statue doesn’t even exist. I’m sure that sleazy sales merchant lied, making the whole thing up just so you would buy one of his maps. How long do those scouting teams have to keep looking before you give up?”
Juron became red in the face, “Enough, Shadow! Anything else?”
“I’m here for one more concern.”
“Oh?” Juron shifted in his seat.
“Yes, it deals with Selené. She mentioned something about a ceremony that Atlanteans call a marriage. That is what couples do when they’re devoted to one another, right?”
Juron smiled as his irritation started to fade. He didn’t notice that Shadow was reading the notes on his desk out of the corner of his eye. Shadow instantly redirected his attention when Juron turned his gaze upon him. “Yes, that’s what we call it. Is that something you and Kajaka would like to do?”
“Our people don’t generally feel it necessary to perform such ceremonies, but with the two of us being so far away from home; I think Kajaka would enjoy something like that. He seems distant. He is concerned that we’re growing apart.”
“Hmm,” Juron looked at him, “Well, you’ll need to make preparations. You will need to choose a place for the ceremony to happen. Usually there are flowers, music, and guests. Family members and close friends attend as the guests, but you may invite who ever you want to witness the ceremony between you two. There is a part were jewelry is exchanged—rings, most likely—to wear on your finger to show everyone that you are married.”
Shadow nodded and then smiled, “Yes, of course, family. I think we’ll have at least one member of our clan in the area by then. Instead of rings, what about a necklace?”
“It can be anything you want it to be,” replied Juron brushing off Shadow’s concern, then he continued, “You both need to write your vows. These vows consist of a few memorable words that you exchange with each other to express your commitment to one another and to describe the desires you have for your future together.” Juron paused when he saw that Shadow looked a bit disappointed.
“I didn’t really want Kajaka to know about it until it happened. I wanted the ceremony to be a surprise.”
Juron was a bit amused at the whole conversation, including the small details of the event that seemed so big to Shadow. It was obvious to Juron how much Shadow wanted to please his mate. Wanting approval from Kajaka, there was such devotion and pleading in his eyes to find a way to make it work, Juron couldn’t help but laugh this time, “Don’t worry, Shadow. This is your ceremony. We can make it happen any way you want it to. You’ll need a preacher though, someone to guide you through the ceremony.”
“Do you think Selené will marry us?”
“Of course! I don’t see why she would refuse. She wouldn’t miss this type of opportunity for anything. Pandora might even agree to do the floral arrangements.”
Shadow finally gave him a smile. All of his concerns and worries were out the window. “Well then, I believe I have a lot of work to do. Between contacting the Council members and planning this new event for Kajaka, I’d better go and get started. If you wouldn’t mind excusing me, I’ll be out of your way.”
Juron was very pleased to do that. Getting Shadow out of his hair was the best news he had received since early this morning. Juron stood up, to walk Shadow out of the room, but Shadow didn’t even wait for him to stand. He was well out the door before Juron could maneuver around his desk.
Juron sat back down and reopened the box he had received earlier that morning. The object inside the box was so bright it reflected its golden radiance on his face. Just think, after tonight I’ll have 256 of these in a much larger scale, he thought to himself. Slowly closing the box and setting it down, he looked back down at his paperwork and smiled with eager anticipation.
Shadow walked down the hallway thinking of his personal conversation with Juron. In the past, Juron was a good choice for governor, but something had changed about him, and it happened recently. Shadow felt guilty, almost dirty, by telling him about the marriage plans to Kajaka, but he needed to stay a bit longer to absorb the atmosphere of Juron’s office, and the conversation did just that. He would have picked a different subject,
but Juron would have known a false situation from this sincere one.
Walking out into the sun, he looked around the marketplace. Out of nowhere, a miniature Zalarian hovercraft went flying past his nose. Like tiny fireworks, its navigation lights sparked from considerable damage, while its octagonal body spun wobbly as it flew past to hover behind some trees, as if it were being chased. In silence it waited, hoping to be spared from annihilation. Shadow hesitated, looking around for the pursuer. Seeing nothing, he took his next step, then stopped short as an Urillian triad cruiser flew by in hot pursuit.
Seriously, the cop and robber games of the children were going to get him severely injured! As soon as the parents noticed what was going on, they stopped the children, and as usual, everyone around him held their breath as he passed. Shadow was not at all surprised by their behavior around him. He assumed it was out of astonishment, being in awe of his mystical presence, and not to mention, his charming physique.
Walking majestically past the water fountain, the crowd parted way like the reenactment of Moses parting the Red Sea. Two little boys, oblivious to Shadow’s presence, darted out of the crowd and slammed right into him. Their hologram cube went flying. Stupid humans, Shadow thought to himself. He watched them fetch the cube and activate it near the fountain. Like a film projector, the cube displayed an image of Juron in the middle of the fountain. The tuning forks striking the jets of water made the projected image flicker, but it was clear enough to see Juron was completely naked, looking over his shoulder in utter surprise. Juron’s facial expression was priceless! His eyes were big and round from shock. It was obvious that Juron recently had unwelcomed guests. They must have found a way to record him as he was stepping out of the bath, clever children! The boys had positioned it just right, so that one of the water jets would shoot him right in the butt, and the hologram display served Juron right. Shadow dismissed his previous thought of the children and chuckled at the sight.
Raydorian was looking over the railing behind his merchant stand at the gigantic waterfall that flowed under the last portion of the courtyard and the entire causeway leading out into the city. Raydorian chose this spot not because he was the nearest shop by Guardian’s Gate, which opened to the causeway, but because the sound of the flowing water calmed his high-strung nerves. He was startled when he turned around and saw Shadow standing there.
“Ah yes, you’re looking for your package. Unison dropped it off just this morning,” said Raydorian digging through his newest shipment. Ray pulled out a large jewelry box that was a little bit bigger than the size of his hand, and about an inch and a half high. The box was constructed from a material known as vishnar, a type of memory glass that could be imprinted upon by a mere thought, to look like any substance the owner wanted it to morph into. In its natural state, it looked like white opaque glass that radiated with a white iridescent light. Shadow waited impatiently, eyeing the box. It was glowing brilliantly, taunting him, and just begging to be opened.
Raydorian handed it over to Shadow, who took it carefully from him like it was the most fragile thing ever created. Inside was the necklace he was going to give Kajaka in appreciation for his patience and love. The green moldavite stone was only found on Neubian Prime. It was the remnants of space angels, a form of Bennu, made of pure energy. They flew in flocks amongst the stars, as well as flying undetected beside the flanks of spaceships in deep space. Very few ever saw space angels up close, but if a traveler was lucky enough, they could catch a glimpse or two of their beautiful flight patterns bordering the darkest nebulas. Neubians were the first to find this energetic petrified substance when a meteor hit their planet. He knew Earth would have such a substance as well, sooner or later, but he hoped he would be long gone by then, living among a more advanced race in a more esthetically pleasing environment. As grand as what the isle once was, it was obvious to Shadow that the once thriving city of Atlantis was fading away under Juron’s leadership.
The stone looked like solidified green water that had frozen when the wind blew across it, giving it ripples. He admired the skillful craftsmanship of the necklace and beamed ear to ear as with appreciation and joyful giddiness as he closed the box. Then, adding his own personal touch with his mind, he transformed the box of light into a soft dark red velvet box to make it easier to hide for his planned surprise.
“Unison was right. It will look beautiful against his green feathers,” said Shadow, more than please with the result.
Thinking about feathers, Raydorian considered it for a moment. Do these guys ever take their cloaks off? He mentally asked himself.
Shadow pulled a feather out of his cloak. “Please give this to Unison when you see him next.” Raydorian stared strangely at the feather and then at Shadow. Shadow continued, “That’s all he requested in return.”
Raydorian looked at the feather. A common-looking feather pulled from a cloak as payment for that beautiful necklace did not seem like a good exchange to him. After thoroughly inspecting the feather, turning it over and over in his hand, and not finding anything out of the ordinary or of any special significance, he placed it in the back of the shop with little thought or interest.
He turned back to see Shadow still fondling the box sentimentally. “Could I interest you in something else? How about a Zurilian flute?” Shadow’s face contorted with disgust. “I think I still have a space distorter or vaccine distributor.”
The appearance of the space distorter creeped Shadow out. It reminded him of a big black spider; he hated spiders. The dome-shaped disk, easily viewed as the body, was ten inches in diameter with eight claw-like legs branching off of it. It was fairly easy to use; just place the flat side of the dome against any wall and the legs would automatically absorb or bury themselves into the wall. Underneath the surface of the wall, the legs would branch out, securing itself to the main infrastructure.
He could picture it now, the tiny energy core launching this high-powered glowing green ooze down through the legs like veins as they burrowed under the wall. Shadow shivered just thinking about it. The plus side to using a space distorter: from the outside, your home could be the size of a shack, but on the inside, you could be living in a home the size of a mansion! That’s what most of the people on Atlantis used in their homes. Not to mention that it was also ideal for spacecrafts.
However, quite a few of the first-generation humans were still living their lives without technology. They were too afraid of the mysterious technology to use it, claiming that it was some kind of black sorcery. Unfortunately, there was no way to send them back home to their time. Due to the technology they had already been exposed to, and to use time warping wormholes to send them all back, would greatly upset the human timeline. Still, on occasion, Shadow thought about grabbing them by the scruff of the neck and taking them back himself, but that would be interfering, and the Council on his planet would have his head.
The vaccine distributor was another story. It was needle-free as well as painless, allowing the skin to absorb the vaccine into the bloodstream. This was how most medications were applied; needles were a thing of the past. He looked at the items in Raydorian’s shop. There were housewares, jewelry, and clothes, but the vaccine distributor stumped him; Raydorian didn’t have medical credentials in order to barter medical supplies. His credentials were taken centuries ago when he traded an Ackrid atom modifier to a Vheshian. The Vheshians then used it to perform medical experients on the Neubians. A lot of the Neubians were wiped out, and looking at the items in his shop, it appeared the Neubians still didn’t trust him with medical or scientific devices.
“You usually don’t carry these items. Wasn’t it just last week that a shipment of medical supplies was stolen? Where did you get them?”
Raydorian looked panicked and swallowed hard as he put the items back under his counter. “Did you say they were stolen? I wanted to offer a few new things here at my shop to drum up more business. So, I went to the
underground market. I got them for a really good deal!”
“Why do you think you got them for a good deal? Most of the items exchanged there are either stolen or illegal, and the stolen items are usually tampered with making them unsafe to use.” A smile stretched across Shadow’s face, “but to barter them at your shop, now that’s a new one!”
“Then what should I do with the merchandise?”
Shadow motioned across the way, “Isn’t that a medical dealer over there? Maybe you should box it up and give it to him. As for the space distorters, there’s a place that offers interior remodeling just down the way; I would start there.”
“What if he thinks I’m the one who stole them?”
“Then make something up or take the items back to the black market.”
Raydorian nodded in agreement, “I guess you’re right, my friend.” Raydorian was not completely convinced to return the items to the other shop owners. He had bartered some rare antiquities to get the merchandise, and the idea of giving them away, without getting something in return, did not sit well with him. However, he was willing to say anything to get Shadow’s nose out of his business.
As Shadow turned to go, his eyes rested on yet another medical item, an aging pod, which lay near the back of the shop. Its smooth hematite-like surface was starting to rust, meaning that it was almost too old and unstable to use. Aging pods were used by those who had no where else to go outside of Atlantis to age themselves.
“Is that an aging pod?”
Raydorian smiled sheepishly and stepped into Shadow’s line of sight, “I’ll find a new home for that too.” Disgusted, Shadow turned to go, leaving by way of Guardian’s Gate.
The wind ruffled his feathers, and the sun’s glare off the water got in his eyes, so he spent most of his time on the causeway squinting. The causeway wasn’t blocked from the sun like the courtyard, but Pandora’s flora helped immensely. Shadow stepped down off the causeway, where his coach was waiting for him. His ride was the only thing keeping the life of the commoners at a distance. Looking past the coach, he could see the bakery just across the street from the causeway, and across the street from the bakery was the livery, from which the smell of livestock was barely covered by the smell of baking bread. There weren’t many establishments outside of the marketplace, with the exception of necessity shops, which supplied food, some basic clothes, and of course, the occasional tavern.
