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Final Fantasy VI: The Sands of Time

Book 1: The Beginning


Chapter 2 - City of Dreams


Part 2.4 - Gears and Guilt

After getting the okay from Dr. Atma, Dune was free to go to his room to wait until the Figaro reached Narsille. Atma had indeed seemed more irritated today than usual, and Dune wondered what was bothering him. He knew Atma did not like Narsille any more than the Figaro, and wondered if their approach to the city was the cause of his increasingly negative mood. Dune didn't dwell on this thought, and was quite content to leave the doctor to his own devices if the doctor was willing to do the same for Dune. Since there wasn't anything better for Dune to do, he put his things in order for his departure. He had brought very few items along for the trip, and it was a relatively simple task. He noticed that he did not have his pickaxe anymore, and realized that he must have forgotten it back at the desert in his escape from the storm. He chuckled at the irony of this and continued packing, making sure to transfer his crystal from the pocket of his work shirt into the pocket of his regular street clothes. He still had not told anyone about the crystal, and the guilt of his secrecy was growing as Narsille approached and his promise was put to the test.

Dune was long done packing and growing restless once again when the Captain's voice was heard on the intercom, announcing the Figaro's imminent arrival at the gates of Narsille. Dune was not going to miss this long awaited moment, and hurried up to the bridge, ignoring the doctor's orders to stay in his room until he arrived to escort him. Dune was not the only one going to the bridge to see the opening of the gates first-hand, and he had a difficult time maneuvering past all the people excitedly filing out of various rooms towards the stairs. After some pushing and shoving, Dune made it to the fifth floor foyer and anxiously entered the bridge with a group of workers. The bridge was nearly filled to capacity with crewmen and other Figaro workers, and the disorderly noise of multiple excited conversations was all he could hear. It seemed as if there was a party on the bridge with the entire crew invited, and Dune wondered if there were still any unlucky workers manning the ballasts on the first floor. This thought distracted him for only a second, though, and soon vanished as he looked out through the still-cracked shield.

It was now snowing heavily outside, making it difficult to see the gates in all their glory, but they could still be seen, standing tall and immovable against the storm as the final barrier between the world of nature and man. Beyond these gates it was sure to be warm and sunny, just like it was everyday in Narsille. The gates took up almost the entire view, and they were nearly twice as tall and wide as the massive Figaro. The gates were made of an extremely durable material known as mythril, like much of the base structures of Narsille, and could withstand even the harshest attacks against them. The mythril gave the gates a shiny bluish-white hue, and at night they almost seemed to glow like a third moon descended to earth. The national symbol of Narsille, a pickaxe crossing over a feather, could be seen engraved on each of the two doors. The pickaxe represented the coal-mining roots of the city, and the feather represented the city's long-standing peace and position of neutrality. The gates made an impressive impression on all who saw them, and were a symbol of the power and knowledge of Narsille, and the Committee as well. The large mythril gates were one of the first projects the Committee had set out to accomplish, and at the time they were made to protect the city from intruders. There were no intruders left outside the gates in this time of peace, though, and the gates were now used mainly as a barrier from the elements. Near the base of the gate were many smaller gates that could be opened and shut quickly for most of the smaller comings and goings. The Figaro was of course much too large for these passages, and its crew would enjoy the rare sight of the towering gates being fully opened to let them pass.

The gatekeepers were soon aware of the Figaro's arrival, and a deafening creaking of gears could be heard starting over the commotion on the bridge, and one by one the conversations dropped off until only the gears could be heard. A large outpouring of steam erupted from many small apertures lining the center of the gates, and with a small shudder that could be felt throughout the base, the gate doors began to slowly wedge themselves apart, sliding back into the recesses of the mountain walls on either side. It was a slow process, taking almost fifteen minutes to complete, but the crew of the Figaro was patient, and waited with bated breath as the doors made their retreat. They had come this far, and one more trial was nothing to them. One more small shudder and the gates ceased moving. A wide open space lay before the base, and piled up around it were riggings designed for the securing of large vessels. The Figaro could not actually enter the city because of its size, so an elevator platform had been built right at the entrance to carry it underground to the cavernous halls beneath the city where at one time much mining for precious metals had been done, but now were expanded and used for the storage of the larger equipment in the use of the city. The Figaro was one such device, and at a single silent hand motion from Captain, still standing resolutely at the front of the bridge, the beleaguered base humbly crawled onto the platform. It had finally made it home after a long and arduous climb.

Dozens of tiny workers could be seen running along the rigging to attach the harnesses to the base that would keep it safe during its descent into the earth. Once the Figaro was safely in place another small shudder signaled the starting of the elevator, and the surrounding structures could be seen rising out of view, being replaced with the many long columns of light lining the shaft leading to the storage halls. After descending nearly two hundred meters, the elevator slowed to a halt and the base was carefully released from its harnesses and led off the platform and into the brightly lit loading docks, where many devices similar in size to the Figaro were silently waiting to be used. The Figaro was meticulously positioned into its proper storage space, and with one final command from the Captain, her engines were shut off. Mission accomplished. A cheer went up from the crew on the bridge, and even the Captain turned around and smiled at the crew.

"Well Dune, that about wraps this mission up. Let's get off this deathtrap and get some fresh air, eh?" The Captain was still smiling as he walked over to where Dune was standing, shaking hands and patting the backs of some of his fellow crew as he passed them.

"Yes, Captain that is an excellent idea. Let me just go get my belongings and we can be off." Dune too was smiling, and for the moment his promise had slipped his mind. His home was the only thing on his mind at the moment.

"Well hurry up! I'll be waiting outside for you. I'm sure the repair crew is going to want to hear the low down on just what the hell happened here, and I bet they're all waiting right outside with their tools ready. I doubt they'll be too happy with the condition we brought her back in." The Captain let out a low laugh and walked off the bridge.

Dune took one last look at the bridge and then followed the Captain. He quickly walked to his room and grabbed his bag then turned around to leave, and almost ran right into Dr. Atma standing in the doorway.

"And where do you think you're going, hmm? I thought I told you to stay in your room until I came and got you?" Atma did not look too happy, even for him. He did not like having his orders ignored.

"Sorry, Doctor, but I just went up to the bridge to see the gates being opened. I'm fine, and I feel well enough that I think I can handle moving about on my own from now on. If that is alright with you?" Dune finished quickly, not wanting to upset the doctor any further.

"Hmph, fine do whatever you want if you think you're ready. I gave you your last exam and found no causes for concern, so you're free to do as you please now. You are now no longer under my care. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some pressing duties to attend to in the city. If something happens, don't come looking for me. Go find a Narsille doctor on duty instead." With that, Atma left Dune as quickly as he had found him.

Dune, hardly bothered by the doctor's decree, left the room and walked back down the hall to the stairs. He climbed up to the sixth floor and up onto the deck. There were numerous makeshift causeways now connecting the deck to the surrounding structure, and Dune soon saw the Captain standing on the other side talking to what appeared to be the head of the repair crew. He hurried across the causeway and over to where the Captain was standing.

"Ah, Dune! It's about time. This here's the head of Figaro maintenance, Alex Figaro himself." The Captain waved Dune over and introduced the man he was talking with.

Alex was a tall man and appeared to be about the same age as the Captain, although in much better condition. He had shining blonde hair braided in the back into a well-kept pony-tail, much different than Dune's own unruly lock of grey-white hair that hung down his back. He was a well-built, handsome man for his age, with an unmistakable air of confidence around him. He wore a pair of stiff blue worker's overalls and a matching long blue coat. He looked very clean and orderly, and if Dune hadn't known better, he'd swear he was talking with royalty.

"Nice to meet you Professor Figaro. I've heard much about your achievements in mobile desert technology, and it's an honor to finally meet you." Dune greeted Alex cordially, not wanting to upset him. He knew he couldn't be very pleased with the appearance of his namesake.

"Ah, call me Alex. I don't like the sound of formal titles too much. It's a pleasure to meet you as well, Dune. The Captain has told me quite a bit about you, and it seems you're quite the dedicated archeologist. Isn't that right, Mobius?" He gave the Captain a light jab with his elbow.

"Err, yes, that's right. Dune is probably almost as dedicated to his field as you are Alex. You two would get on well together, I'm sure," the Captain replied, rather uncomfortably. He obviously did not prefer being addressed by his name, although he made no outward sign that it bothered him. He remained relatively quiet, though, as if he was deep in thought about something.

"Mobius and I go way back. I helped him build and pilot his pride and joy, the Maiden of the Sea, way back when he was no older than you are. Must've been what, forty years ago? Although I daresay I took better care of it than he took of my own pride and joy..." Alex's gaze shifted from Dune to the Figaro beneath them, now crawling with repairmen.

"I apologize for the condition we brought your vessel back in, Professor. We had a bit of bad luck on the return trip. I hope the damage isn't too extensive?" Dune said apprehensively, fearing the worst.

"Nah, nothing to worry about, Dune. She should be back up and operational within a week. I heard all about what happened from Mobius. You don't need to apologize to me, it looks like what happened couldn't be helped. And please, call me Alex. No need for formalities here. A friend of Mobius is a friend of mine!" Alex said this in a disarmingly friendly tone, and Dune had no choice but to comply with his request.

"Well, I'd better get going and make sure the repairs are going smoothly. It was nice seeing you again, Mobius, and nice to meet you as well Dune. Good luck with your report to the Committee!" Alex waved them off and walked over to the deck of the Figaro, leaping down into the hatch. For a man his age, he was remarkably agile.

The Captain spoke up after Alex had left them, "Well, let's get going, then Dune. The Committee is going to want a full report on our expedition, even if we didn't find anything."

At this point Dune was again reminded of his promise, and he wrestled with the burden of his discovery, debating whether to tell the Captain now or reveal everything at the conference with the Committee members. After some careful considerations, he thought it would be best to wait until they were with the Committee members to tell the Captain everything. The crystal was once again subtly guiding Dune's thoughts to continue keeping its existence a secret as long as possible, and once again Dune folded against its will and remained silent at the mention of the fate of the dig. He clutched at his pocket and followed the Captain away from the Figaro and back up to the surface.