Beauty and the Space Beast: A Space Age Fairy Tale (Star-Crossed Tales)

by J. M. Page

  Before she had a chance to think about that comment, an entourage of men in black swarmed the room with steaming plates of tantalizing food.

  Celine ate her food in silence, careful to keep both hands in plain sight at all times, no matter how strong the urge was to let one rest in her lap. At the other end of the table, the men shared a few words, but were otherwise quiet during the meal.

  It wasn’t until the plates were cleared that the discussions started to pick up. Celine expected the meal to be over, but no one left their seat, so she stayed put, too.

  The men in black brought out tiny plates, each with a multi-colored cube of sponge. Celine poked hers with the tines of her fork, watching for cues from the others.

  “Domestic again,” the man to her left sneered as he took a bite of the dish.

  The King cast him a sideways glance. “Yes. And our desserts will continue to be domestic until you stop blocking Senator Gurham’s bill.” His tone was smooth, without inflection or emotion, but Celine watched the man next to her sputter and turn fuchsia anyway.

  “Senator Gurham’s bill is a farce and will have untold negative impacts on my Terran constituents,” he said.

  Celine took a bite of the cube on her plate and was surprised to find it creamy and sweet, fluffy and light like sweetened air. She took another dainty bite and tried very hard to look only at the plate in front of her.

  “Your constituents! More like your pockets!” another man said, dropping his fork. “Do you not think rations and shortages have negative impacts?”

  Celine swallowed.

  “Who are you to talk about rations? Your household near single-handedly props up the Black Market. We need tariff reform before we can lift the Grounding,” another barked.

  Tension rippled in the air, a tangible thing between the group of men all used to getting their way without argument. Celine was half-convinced they’d come to physical blows any moment.

  Searching for some glimpse of sanity, her eyes settled on the man directly across the table from her: Ben. His shoulders were tense, his hand gripping a fork with white knuckles. She spotted his pulse at the base of his neck, the artery pulsing just beneath his golden skin.

  “What are your thoughts on the matter?” she asked him, forgetting Aris’s suggestion that she stay quiet. Things couldn’t get much worse anyway, could they?

  The moment the words left her lips, the table fell silent. All eyes turned toward their end, each trained on Celine, bulging like she’d just grown an extra head. The King’s face even blanched before refilling crimson.

  She wasn’t sure exactly what she’d done, but she knew it was a mistake.

  Ben gave her the most imperceptible smile before he set down his fork and folded his hands.

  “I think there are many issues facing our city, but none of them will be solved by punishing the populace or cutting ourselves off from the rest of the Universe. While I can understand that the Grounding seems prudent to diplomats and politicians out of touch with the world, I’ve seen the effect it’s had on all aspects of Terran life. There isn’t a single citizen, to my knowledge, that supports the move, and I think that speaks volumes more about its efficacy than anything I could say.”

  Celine nodded, her face burning with the gazes of so many strangers. Her hands were clasped in her lap and she noticed how the older men all looked at her now with disdain. Looking back at Ben, she noted the twinkle in his eye. The one that said he wasn’t angry with her at all, maybe even amused.

  That made her feel a little better.

  Then, as the silence stretched on and on, he offered her a secret smile that made her heart stutter before flying. That little smile from the Prince was enough to erase any memories of her embarrassment.

  The army of men in black returned to sweep the dessert plates away and in their place, they offered steaming mugs of bright green liquid.

  It was then, when the other men were adding sweeteners to their drinks, that Celine realized, not one, but both of her hands were under the table. In a rush to correct the error, she threw her hands on top of the table. One hand obeyed perfectly, as it had her whole life. The other went wide, sweeping into her goblet of water. It wobbled and tipped, crashing into her neighbor’s glass. His, in turn, fell toward his neighbor’s and one-by-one, they crashed, splattered, and broke like a line of glass dominoes.

  So much for forgetting her embarrassment.

  All down her side of the table, uniformed men jumped to their feet, soaked from their own water glasses. The King, unflappable as he was, saw the catastrophe unfolding and moved his goblet aside before anything could happen to it. He returned his focus to the drink in front of him, as if nothing happened at all.

  “Oh no, oh… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she said, trying to mop up the mess she’d created.

  Her stupid hand just kept ruining everything. Every time she thought she had it under control, it failed her again.

  Ben reached across the table and grabbed her wrist, stopping her from taking her napkin to clean the whole table.

  “Hey, it’s okay. Accidents happen. Sit down.”

  She did as he said, though anger at herself still simmered just below the surface, hot tears pushed their way up, welling in her eyes, though she refused to let them fall. Not in front of the King. Not in front of Ben.

  Thankfully, that was the last course of lunch and the rest went by without incident.

  Later that night, Celine stood in front of her bedroom window once again, craning her neck to try and glimpse the sky beyond the clouds. Once again, she wasn’t having any luck.

  She squinted, hoping for the faintest glimmer or twinkle. There was one moment when she thought she saw something, but really, it could have just been spots from straining her eyes.

  Rufus rolled back and forth on the windowsill, giving the impression that he was pacing. She’d told him everything — even the embarrassing parts — about lunch, hoping he had some insight she didn’t.

  He didn’t.

  In fact, Rufus hadn’t changed his tune at all. “You’ve had your fun now. It’s time to go home, Celine. These people aren’t like you. They smile while insulting each other, how can you possibly trust them?”

  Celine sighed, still watching the city as activity started to dwindle for the night.

  “Go home where you belong, where there aren’t crazy people that…”

  A sound from the door interrupted Rufus. Well, it didn’t interrupt him, he was still talking. The sound just diverted Celine’s attention away from his stale argument.

  She tilted her head towards the door, wondering if she’d really heard anything at all.

  Then, there it was again: scratching. Followed by a whine.

  Celine frowned at the door, then with realization, she smirked and crossed the room to answer the door. The moment she pulled the door open, she was nearly bowled over by a great mass of shaggy violet hair.

  Rufus let out a high-pitched squeal and dove off the windowsill, finding his way to a dark corner under a table.

  The dog bounded over to the robot, seeing a new playmate. Her tongue lolled out and she crouched down on her front paws, tail thumping wildly back and forth.

  Rufus made a break for it, zipping across the room to hide behind another piece of furniture.

  “Keep that slobbering thing away from me!” he squealed. “No, get back, get back!” Rufus whirred and beeped, he tried any noise he could to dissuade the over-excited dog.

  She chased him from one side of the room to the other and all Celine could do was laugh, dissolving into uncontrollable giggles as Rufus zoomed around screeching.

  “No! I’m not a chew toy! Heeeeeeeelp.”

  The dog had him cornered again and this time she let out a resounding bark that echoed throughout Celine’s massive bedroom.

  “Shh, Bora, you’re going to wake up the whole palace, you silly mutt,” Ben said, stepping out from the shadows of the hallway.

  Celine’s heart did
a double-take before her pulse began racing anew. She took a step back from the doorway, her eyes locked in place as if the man himself were magnetic.

  “Hi,” she said, her hands clenching at her sides. Sharp points of pain erupted in her palms as her fingernails dug in. Hi? That was the best she could do?

  Ben took another step into the vast bedchamber, his eyes locked on her, despite the playful romping of his furry companion.

  “Hi,” he said.

  Celine looked away, trying to get a grip. “I’m sorry about… Well, everything at lunch,” she said with a shrug. “I didn’t mean to say anything offensive…”

  Ben laughed, closing the distance between them with another step. “You don’t need to be sorry. Those men have their heads so far up their… Well, the point is, you don’t need to be sorry. I never really get to speak my piece on these things.”

  Celine frowned, hearing the resentment in his tone. “But you’re the Prince!”

  Ben started to roll his eyes before he stopped, looking apologetic. “I’m nothing but a disappointment to my father. I was supposed to follow in his footsteps, politicking and diplomacizing. All I ever wanted to do was fly.”

  Celine’s breath caught and she felt suddenly light-headed at the mention of flying.

  And just the mental image of the Prince behind the controls did crazy things to her heart rate.

  “Believe me, if I had any say, there wouldn’t be a grounding.”

  Celine’s eyes drifted upwards, back to the spot in the sky she’d been trying to see since she arrived. The spot where the force field dome was at its highest and the clouds the thinnest. She wondered if there was a way to amplify the force field to get rid of the clouds all together.

  “How does it work?” she asked, her voice dreamy as she searched for light beyond the haze.

  Ben joined her at the windowsill and they both sat there, staring off. “I’m not sure we know. When the first settlers arrived this technology already existed. They built the city around it. There’s a control room somewhere deep in the palace, but I don’t think anyone’s ever been in there. At least not in a very long time. It just kind of… works on its own.”

  “Oh,” Celine said, unable to hide her disappointment. She’d hoped Ben would offer some insight to how she could recreate the force field in the Wastelands. So she could get the other modders out of the tunnels and onto the surface. So they could travel the galaxy if they wanted…

  Celine sighed at that thought. Of her lost dreams of traveling. It didn’t seem there was any hope of her ever getting off the ground any more. She glanced over and saw the same expression of longing and loss on Ben’s face. He, too, looked up at the sky wistfully, a glimmer in his eyes.

  She felt a camaraderie with him then. They were one in the same. Two people trapped, kept from the only thing they’d ever wanted. Before she knew it, the words were pouring forth.

  “I’ve always wondered what it would be like. The sky, the stars…”

  Somewhere in the background, Rufus whined and whimpered. Probably still trying to fend off the fearsome dog.

  “Something about that great open space, all those millions of millions pricks of light, each one a star just like ours… It’s awe-inspiring.”

  “Celine…” Rufus hissed, though she ignored him.

  “I’d love to see it, to explore it. To travel to the stars and beyond. Of course you’ve already done all that and I’m just a…”

  Her mouth snapped shut, her eyes going wide as she finally realized her error. Rufus still whined from the corner.

  “I’m just…” she tried to come up with an ending to that sentence that would save her from her candid admission, but it was too late. One look at Ben showed that he’d heard plenty. A sly grin spread across his face and he looked all too satisfied with himself as he crossed his arms and leveled a serious look her way.

  “You didn’t crash, did you?”

  Celine thrust her hands in her pockets, one fist closing around the coin Rufus recovered from the wreck. Was now the time to come clean? Should she tell him the truth? The whole truth?

  Slowly, she shook her head. “No, not exactly.”

  She waited for the inevitable follow-up. The question or statement that would make her reveal herself as a modder. And possibly sign her death sentence. She braced herself for it, but it never came.

  Finally, she looked back up at the smiling prince, after staring at her lap for far too long.

  “What?” she asked, wondering if she should be worried by that expression.

  “So you’ve never seen the stars?” he asked. “Not once?”

  Celine paused before she answered with a simple shake of her head.

  She wouldn’t have thought it possible, but Ben’s grin grew even wider. He took her by the wrist, pulling her hand from her pocket and clasping it in his own.

  “Well then,” he said with an air of grandeur, “you’re in for a treat.”

  Celine allowed herself to be pulled along by Ben, leaving Bora and Rufus alone together in her room. As they left, Rufus pleaded and protested about being left with that ‘rowdy mountain of drool.’

  Ben led her down one hallway after another, each dimmed to near darkness in the late evening hour.

  “Where are we going?” Celine asked after they turned down the fourth hallway.

  Ben held a finger to his lips, urging her to be quiet. Then he whispered “You’ll like it, I promise.” As an afterthought he added “Trust me.”

  Celine’s mouth snapped shut and she nodded, fluttery excitement rushing through her veins. She couldn’t say why, but she did trust him. More than could ever be considered reasonable. Ben instilled a sense of trust in her that Celine found almost alarming, if it weren’t for his calming nature.

  He led her through a veritable maze of hallways, twisting and turning every direction. She was sure they’d back-tracked and looped around at least three times when he stopped.

  The hallway came to an end, no doors on either side. It was wide enough that there could have been a third person with them and they could have all stood with their arms up and out at their sides and none of their fingers would touch. The ceiling stretched overhead, disappearing into the darkness.

  And in the middle of the large empty hall, Celine and the Prince stood shoulder-to-shoulder. His presence next to her seemed to fill the space, it filled her senses with awareness of him. Of his warm masculine scent. She closed her eyes and just savored the moment. It may not have been flying, but it sure felt close.

  When she opened her eyes, Celine focused on the end of the hallway. The massive wall was covered from one corner to the next with a magnificent tapestry.

  She had to tilt her head back to see all of it, the glorious depiction of the solar system, stars dotting the background, a fleet of Terran ships in the foreground. It was rendered in such exquisite detail that Celine could hardly believe it wasn’t an actual window to space.

  In short, it took her breath away and the longer she looked at it, the more she found to gape in wonder at. No wonder Ben was so excited to show this to her; it was spectacular.

  Celine felt a tug and realized Ben had her by the hand again and he was pulling her forward. He looked confused as he urged her to follow him.

  “Come on,” he said with another gentle tug.

  “I was… just looking… beautiful tapestry,” she muttered, feeling flustered. Every time she seemed to have a handle on what was going on, she was wrong again.

  Ben looked back over his shoulder at the object of her attention and seemed to see it for the first time. He shrugged, a little frown dimpling one corner of his mouth.

  “I promise you can look at art later. There’s plenty of it,” he said, pulling again.

  Celine followed him all the way to the corner of the tapestry. Ben pulled the edge up, and rather than solid wall like she expected, there was a slim opening leading to a narrow corridor.

  Once they were both in the corridor, Ben l
et the tapestry drop and they were cloaked in complete darkness. Without thinking, Celine’s hand found his.

  A moment later, Ben held a faint blue glow, enough to light their way.

  The corridor they first entered branched off in many directions — another dizzying maze.

  “I used to love exploring these passages when I was younger,” Ben said, a smile in his tone. “Once upon a time, they were for servants to move about unseen. Then, during the Beria Rebellion, there were clandestine meetings far away from separatists.”

  Celine nodded like she understood everything he said. She understood parts of it, at least. It was hard to focus on what he said when they were in these narrow passageways, the walls brushing her shoulders with every step.

  “I’ve heard there are even safe rooms, in case of an attack of coup, but if there are, I don’t think anyone knows where they are anymore.”

  Celine nodded again, unable to contribute anything more to the conversation. The tunnels seemed to be closing in as they walked. She couldn’t help but feel like she was back home, underground, trapped again.

  Thinking about those tunnels brought forth thoughts of her father, of Scorpia, and her new arm. Her father would never forgive her for giving up her old arm. And there was still the nagging question of what Scorpia wanted with it. She hadn’t given that nearly enough thought in the heat of the moment.

  She wondered if her father was looking for her. Or if he assumed she ran off into the Wastelands, never to be seen again.

  In the dim blue light, Ben’s eyes caught hers. “Celine?”

  “Hm?” she managed, wondering how many times he’d said it.

  “Are you okay?” She recognized the look in his eyes now; he was worried. About what? She tensed, wondering if there had been some sign of them being discovered she missed while off in thought.

  He didn’t pull his gaze from her, though, and she nodded slowly. “Why?”

  Ben relaxed just a fraction and looked down. “Because you’re crushing my hand.”

  Celine looked down and saw her fingers wrapped around Ben’s, mashing them together, his fingertips purple with pooled blood. She snatched her new hand away as fast as if she were burned, muttering an apology over and over. Horror washed through her as he shook his hand, trying to restore blood flow.