by T. M. Catron
“Call,” Solaris said.
With a flourish, Rance laid down her cards. “Three Queens.”
Solaris frowned, quirked his mouth to the side. “I’m afraid, Lady Captain,” he said as he laid down his cards—three kings, “that you were overconfident in your abilities.”
Rance gasped. “You cheated.”
Solaris mock gasped. “I didn’t.” Then, he rose, bowing to Jane with a flourish, then the rest of the crew. “This is where I leave you. I have more laundry to gather. I suggest the rest of you drop yours off before bed, that way our illustrious captain can get it all done before we leave hyperspace. After that, I’m sure she’ll give you pick up times for the rest of the month.”
“Roote!” Rance said, turning.
Solaris paused at the door, an eyebrow raised.
Rance narrowed her eyes. “I want it all within the next thirty minutes, or it won’t get done.”
“As you wish, Captain,” Solaris said, patting the door on his way out.
“Alright,” Tally said, “you heard the captain. You have half an hour to get her your laundry. If I were the captain, I would just assign you all your own chores and then extra for your cheekiness.”
Rance rose. “But you’re not me, Tally. Mother, it’s your turn to sleep. I’ll be up… doing the laundry.”
One by one, everyone rose to gather clothes. James and Abel snickered gleefully. Rance shot Harper a significant look, and Harper nodded.
“Who is doing the laundry, really?” Jane asked on her way out.
“I am, Mother.”
“Do you know how, Devri?”
“Just as well as you know how to bake a cake.”
Jane looked skeptical. “It seems that we have a lot to learn about each other, daughter.”
Then she left. Harper met Rance in the cramped washroom a few minutes later, carrying her own things. “If I have to show you how to do this, Captain, at least we’ll make sure my clothes are done right.”
Rance threw a shirt at Harper, who ducked and grinned cheekily.
Chapter Seven
The Imperial Museum on Persephone was the most ancient one in the Empire. Built after the last museums of Old Earth were destroyed, the architecture emulated its forgotten counterparts. Marble and stone columns reached up three stories in the front, and a broad staircase led to massive, wooden front doors. Rance had always wanted to come here but had never taken the opportunity.
The day was bright, crisp, and smelled like rain. They had watched for any sign of the Unity Dark Fighter exiting hyperspace after them, but nothing had appeared. Solaris had said they would have veered away immediately if they weren’t going to attack. That they hadn’t fired upon the Streaker was a good sign, and Rance breathed a sigh of relief as she walked with Jane, Solaris, and Tally.
Still, as they walked to the museum, she had the distinct feeling of being watched. Rather than give herself away, Rance fought the urge to look over her shoulder. She kept her eyes front and focused on their mission.
Tally parted with them at the foot of the staircase, saying he wanted to breathe some fresh air. Since the last three planets they had visited had discriminating laws regarding alien life, Tally was eager to leave the Star Streaker for a while. Both aliens and humans were welcome on Persephone and within the museum.
Rance ascended the marble steps with Jane and Solaris. They had decided to use the front entrance and the protection of the crowds. Jane knew of a staff entrance, but no one wanted to give the Wizards an opportunity to corner them. When the trio reached the doors, Jane nodded to the ticket-seller and guard. He nodded back and stood aside, holding the gate open.
“Do you think we’re too late?” Rance asked Jane as they walked through the wooden doors without paying. She forgot to listen for an answer when she saw the grand entrance, which was three stories high and resembled a cathedral. “Wow.”
Jane moved through the crowds as if she were unimpressed.
They passed statues, ancient weapons, old-fashioned books made of real paper, and various other small articles showcased in the first great hall. More gigantic wooden doors branched off into different corridors, each housing history from a different portion of the galaxy.
“We could spend days in here,” Rance said.
“Years,” Solaris said. He was equally unimpressed, walking beside Jane as if he had been here many times before. Suddenly, Rance felt left out. The easy thing was to blame her mother, who had never taken her young daughter with her on her excursions. However, Rance had been on her own for a long time and could have visited before now if she wanted to. She decided that she would enjoy seeing what she could and eagerly stared at everything as they passed.
The plan had been to blend in with the crowds, and Rance found it easy to do. The museum attracted tourists from all over the galaxy, and the varied looks and attire reflected thousands of different customs and religions.
Solaris wasn’t wearing his conspicuous flight suit but a pair of jeans and a soft, long-sleeved shirt. He carried his customary satchel. The look was rare for him. He tended to wear whatever helped him blend in the most. In the Outer Colonies, that was a tunic and pants. On the Core worlds, a sleek flight suit wasn’t out of place. The three of them had decided to look like tourists from Barton. There, jeans were still in fashion. Rance didn’t own any, but she wore a pair of faded work pants, loose t-shirt, and flight jacket. Jane had donned her leggings, a worn jacket, and a thin scarf around her neck.
As they walked, Solaris tugged at his clothing. Rance tried not to laugh as he stuck a thumb in his waistband and adjusted the jeans as subtly as possible.
“Something wrong, Roote?” Rance asked with a smirk.
Solaris quit tugging at his pants and gave her a dirty look. “Did you use starch on my jeans?”
Rance grinned mischievously. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
They walked through a doorway into an even wider corridor. Here, floor-to-ceiling screens lined the walls, portraying videos of water and monstrous beasts swimming through dark seas.
Rance stopped in her tracks, frozen by the sight. They were whales. She’d seen videos of them, but never on screens that large. Rance moved closer, putting her hands on the glass, forgetting it was a screen. Then, she jumped back. It wasn’t a screen. She had touched cold, thick glass.
She was looking into a real aquarium. Inside the museum.
“Those are whales,” Rance breathed. It was the only intelligible comment she could make. Solaris stopped beside her, watching in companionable silence.
“I didn’t even know any more existed,” she said. With a closer look, Rance decided they were not monsters, but beautiful, graceful creatures. The whales swam in the above-ground ocean, twisting, turning in their current like an ornate, private, and primal dance.
Behind the whales, the tank extended into darkness, and Rance wondered how large the museum had to be to hold such colossal creatures. Above, light shined down into the aquarium, filtering through onto a fake sea floor.
“These are some of the last whales in the Empire,” Solaris said. “This whole side of the museum is one giant aquarium. It’s shameful that they haven’t transferred these to the seas of Barton. There was talk years ago of setting them free, but they are such a big attraction that the museum decided to keep them here.”
Disgusted now, Rance looked at the creatures in a new light. One swam up to the viewing area, and glowing text appeared on the glass at Rance’s eye level. She skimmed it. It was a blue whale, the largest of Old Earth’s whales, and the largest mammal ever to live on the planet. There weren’t any of them left in the wild. Only here.
Rance wondered if it could see her, and she wiggled her fingers at it as if she were a little girl at the zoo. The creature ignored her and moved on, its tail sweeping the water, creating a swirl of sand against the glass. These animals had never known freedom, and Rance felt a little sick at their captivity. Without freedom, what kind of li
fe did they live? She turned to see Jane standing next to her.
“I’ve been arguing for years that they should set these animals free,” Jane said. “Even if they die on Barton, at least they would have some life.”
They moved on, more somber now, passing more aquariums filled with other giant sea creatures. The museum had creatures from other planets—giant snaggletooth animals that resembled sharks, long sea serpents, and even aquatic men.
Rance stopped to stare outright at the aquatic man floating in front of the glass. He had arms, legs, fingers, and toes, but was naked and covered in green scales. Large fins and webs floated out of his hands and toes, making him look like he was half fish. He had strikingly red eyes, which made Rance shudder. “Isn’t it illegal to hold these people against their will?”
“They volunteer their time,” Solaris said, smirking. “It’s a bone of contention among the aquatics. Many of their leaders don’t believe the race should sell themselves for the viewing pleasure of the galaxy. However, they get paid handsomely for floating there in front of you.”
Rance stared for another moment before turning away, and the trio headed down another hallway.
“Now will you tell us what we’re retrieving?” Rance asked.
“We’re going down into the basement,” Jane said.
Solaris whistled. “The basement? Very few people get to go down there. I’ve always wanted to see it.”
“Well, you’re going to get your wish. I found something a few months ago, and when I didn’t know what it was, I locked it down in one of the vaults.”
“What is it?”
“I’ll tell you when there are fewer people around,” Jane said.
They passed another aquarium, this one smaller than the others but with windows just as high. Great, fanged fish swam in the dark water. Rance shivered but stepped closer anyway. The text that appeared this time read Lantess, an aggressive freshwater fish native to the planet Ares. Considered a delicacy, the lantess originates from the Lantes river and has been known to tear a grown man in half or swallow him whole, depending on the man (or woman’s) size.
The fish was about six feet long with four fins and a metallic hue that flashed other colors depending on the light. Rance had seen lantess on her plate before, had seen them in the market on Ares, but she had never seen a live one. They drifted in an artificial current, opening and closing their mouths. The fangs were really rows of razor-sharp teeth. Rance didn’t relish the job of whoever had to feed them every day.
The next aquarium held something even more terrifying. A single, monstrous fish, thirty feet long and streamlined like a shark. It glided through the water like a machine, around and around the tank. Its general shape was that of a shark, but it had a nose more like an arrow than a bullet. When it passed the window, its eye fixed on Rance, spinning in its socket until it could no longer see her. A thrill of fear ran up her spine, and she couldn’t help but notice how intelligent that stare was.
Rance read the information provided. “‘Rapax trucilamia. A shark-like fish found in the oceans of Barton. When it was first discovered, it was thought to be a shark mutation, and named demidon, or part shark. Now, marine biologists have determined it is a separate genus. Commonly called a reaper, this species is responsible for more human deaths than any aggressive fish species in the history of mankind. Because of its reputation and aggressive nature, this specimen is the only known reaper in captivity. The curators must keep the water temperature below the optimum for this fish, to slow down its metabolic processes and make it less aggressive.’” Rance paused to stare at the monster’s teeth. “Whose bright idea was it to keep one of these?”
“The Empire is always looking for new revenue,” Solaris said.
“I’ve been to Barton’s beaches,” Rance said with a cold shudder. “They don’t warn tourists about the reaper. Maybe that’s why it has such a high kill rate—too many opportunities.”
Solaris frowned. “Of course they wouldn’t warn anybody. It would ruin their booming tourist business.”
“Seems like the reapers would do that anyway. Remind me never to get in that water again.”
As they watched, a dead grouper was dropped into the tank. It hung suspended in the water with a gush of tiny bubbles rising to the surface. The reaper circled it slowly, its eye swiveling as it checked out the dead fish. Then, with a flick of its tale, the reaper grabbed the grouper and shredded it with one bite. Bits and chunks of flesh floated around the reaper’s head as it devoured its meal. Onlookers oohed and aahed while it was feeding.
Rance craned her head to the light at the surface. Someone had to feed the animal every day, and Rance didn’t envy that job, either. She thought she’d rather deal with the lantess.
By the time they reached a door with a sign that read off-limits, Rance was itching with curiosity about their errand. Jane leaned forward so a retinal scan could verify her identity.
The door swung outward, revealing a damp stone corridor that smelled as if the museum processed the dead fish down there. After they stepped in, the door closed behind them. White lights flickered on overhead, casting the hallway in faint, cold light. The basement felt more like a dungeon or a crypt than a vault, and Rance wondered at the primitive feel. The museum boasted some of the best donors in the galaxy.
“These tunnels were built around the original foundations of the museum. These particular halls are only temporary holding places for artifacts,” Jane said. “On occasion, something will get left out here for years on end. There are bigger and better vaults in other places, and those are the ones they show donors. We never bring them down here, obviously.”
“Do you have much to do with the donors?” Rance asked. The humid air clung to her skin, chilling her to the bone. She shivered.
“Museum curators tried to get me to attend a few parties, but I was afraid of being recognized by any of the noblemen. So, I didn’t go. Besides, I’d rather spend my time collecting things than standing around raising money.”
For a while, all they heard was the sound of their boots on the stone floor and their own breathing. They passed door after door, turning left and right until Rance couldn’t keep all the halls straight. Jane knew her way well. Rance tried to call up a map using her NNR, but all she got was an error message saying file not found.
“I didn’t want to talk about this before because I didn’t know who might be listening,” Jane said. “What I’m about to show you is one of the most closely guarded secrets of the galaxy. I need you to understand how important it is because once we get it, we have to go straight back to the ship.”
“What’s so important about it?” Solaris asked, frowning.
Jane stopped at a new door, and this one clearly had been installed more recently than the others they had passed. Rance had seen similar vaults in some of the largest banks. After another retinal scan for Jane, the door’s bolts clicked and hummed as the pneumatics raised the door.
Inside looked nothing like the hallway. It was dry, for one thing, a modern room lined with screens showing security footage from the museum. Smooth metal tables were set up in the center. A plain metal box rested on one. The lid was off of it, tossed aside like a piece of trash on the floor. Jane hurried over to it and peered in.
“It’s gone,” she said.
She hurried around the room, opening doors to reveal storage units and even refrigerated stasis chambers.
“What are we looking for?” Rance asked. She peered into a closet, finding a cleaning bot and more boxes.
Jane shook her head as if to clear it. She looked stunned. “Someone has stolen it.”
“What is it?”
Jane turned toward her daughter and sank against the table. “A sword.”
“We’re looking for a sword?”
“Not just a sword. It’s one of the Dioscuri.”
Solaris gasped.
“You know it?” Jane asked him.
Solaris nodded. “No wonder the Galaxy Wi
zards want to question you. I never thought they were real.”
Rance shook her head, convinced Solaris had said too much, that he was leading Jane straight for his identity.
Jane looked at him shrewdly.
“What is a Dioscuri Sword?” Rance asked her mother, trying to deflect her scrutiny of Solaris. She carefully avoided Solaris’ eyes.
“It’s a sword that has magical properties. Dioscuri is the mythical name for the twins Castor and Pollux, who were Greek Argonauts and accomplished horsemen. They were twins, but in ancient Greek legends, Pollux was the son of Zeus. Both helped sailors and guided them when they were lost. They each possessed a special sword to wield in battle—these we also call the Dioscuri.”
“The Greeks from Old Earth?”
“Yes,” Jane answered as she continued to search the room. Her actions were careful, methodical, but she moved with the air of someone who knew she would not find what she sought. “The history is all muddied. The swords aren’t from Castor and Pollux, of course. They were myths, and even the mythologies are confused about whether the twins died or were both made immortal. Of course, both of them form part of the constellation Gemini seen in Old Earth star charts. Around 3,000 A.D., researchers unearthed a forgotten legend, one that said the twins asked the god Hephaestus to make them swords imbued with magic. For their quests on horseback. In reality, the Dioscuri Swords are ancient, but no one knows where they came from or why anyone would think they are magical.”
“How do you know that’s what you had?” Rance asked.
“When I scanned it, all of the readings came back as an unknown metal. The sword looked ancient, but none of the materials matched those in any of the databases I searched. Since I didn’t have answers, I brought the sword here and locked it in this box. And then I went to do some unrelated research. I almost forgot about it until I came across something in the book I was reading. As soon as I realized, well… I’ve been trying to get back here for a week. Of course, the appearance of the Galaxy Wizards helped confirm my suspicions.”
