CHAPTER SIX: PROBING

"Yipes!" cried Harper, nearly dropping a welding tool onto the floor of the Machine Shop. He quickly set it down on a tool bench and pulled off his safety goggles along with their magnifying lens attachment. His eyes looked pleadingly at the Nietzschean who had caused the upset. "Could you please not sneak up on me when I'm working? This is a very delicate operation."

"My apologies. I didn't mean to startle you. No one else seems to mind," said Tyr, mildly. He moved out of the shadows. He was surprised by Harper's reaction. He hadn't been able to take anyone off guard for days. He had begun to think he was losing his touch.

Harper shook his head. "Yeah. Well, they all have out-of-this-world nervous systems. I, humble Earthling, need fair warning." He picked up tweezers and carefully adjusted some circuitry on the item he was making. Harper finished the adjustment, set aside the tweezers, and consulted a schematic. "What brings you to my neck of the woods?"

The Machine Shop was arranged according to Harper's own system of chaotic order. Empty cans of Sparky cola shimmered in a disposal container Andromeda had provided for him which she routinely emptied into her recycler. Work benches were covered in spare parts, refitted objects, and an array of projects, both finished and unfinished. The floor hosted Harper's larger projects, some scale models of ancient machinery, and other odds and ends.

"Captain Hunt and the Magog have gone down to Platea to make inquiries," said Tyr, nonchalantly.

"Yeah, I know. But I'm stuck up here so I thought I'd get some work done." Harper studied his schematic, sat down at a table, and picked up a scanning device.

Tyr continued, "Somehow I doubt their efforts will bring anything to light."

"What do you mean by that?" asked Harper, pausing for a moment in his work.

"Please," said Tyr, scornfully. "Why would anyone, even a Yil Yimur, send an entire ship after you, for a violation which in most places would be handled with a simple parking ticket? Which leads to me to believe that there must be another reason they followed you. The box!"

"The box?" asked Harper, absorbing the thought. "That's not such a bad idea. I mean, I did think someone followed me after I left the shop."

"Are you still trying to make me believe that you do not know what was in that box?" Tyr bellowed.

Harper started to scan his work. "Hey, relax. All I know is Beka asked me to do her a favor. She gave me the address and told me to go pick up the box for her. It was locked. I never saw what was in it. I had a lot of things to do. A lot of errands to make and other things to pick up." Harper's eyes lit up with an idea and his voice filled with excitement. "But I did scan it."

Tyr gave him a questioning look.

Harper tried to explain. "It's something I do. A precautionary measure. Sometimes you get such a great bargain that the person who sold it to you is steamed. So I scan things to make sure no one slips any unwanted bombs under the lid." Harper linked his scanning device to a panel and punched some buttons. "Granted it wasn't a very detailed scan, enough to detect explosives, not enough to see inside, but it does provide a photographic image."

And as Harper spoke, an image of the box popped up on a screen in front of them.

"There's a symbol on the lid," said Tyr. "I'm certain it is Nietszchean but I cannot place the pride."

Harper magnified the symbol until if filled the entire display. "No prob," he said, punching a few keys. "Just initiate a search. Matchmaker, matchmaker, make me a match." The symbol was pushed to the left side of the screen as symbols began to stream by rapidly. At last, a symbol halted beside the original. The two were identical. "All systems go," cried Harper. "Here it is! This symbol is most often connected with Plu Valtari born blah, blah. Died blah, blah of the (I'm not gonna even try to pronounce that name) pride. Does that help?"

"Valtari?" Tyr repeated and recognition was in his voice. "There are legends about him. It is said that when the Nietzschean Alliance broke, prides like the Banyamulenge, Three Rivers, and others grew weak. Fearing all would be lost to the approaching darkness, Valtari gathered the strands of their power and hid them in the wind."

"Strands of power? In the wind?" asked Harper, boggled. "How'd he do that?"

"I have no idea," replied Tyr. "I always believed it to be solely a legend."

"Nice story, but it still doesn't tell us what's in the box. I guess the only two who really do know are Beka and she's obviously not talking and--"

"And who?"

Harper grinned and held up the item he'd been working on. "Hey, big guy. Care to test out one of my latest inventions?"


Beka and Trance were getting a tour of the famed Monarchean museum. Administrator Elva would have liked showing it to them personally, but due to pressing business, she assigned one of her aides to be their tour guide. The guide was less serious than most Monarcheans they had met, informative, and even eager to please. The museum was more impressive than Elva's residence. Its walls were constructed of blue marble and its floor was made up of shiny black tiles.

Beka wanted to find out as much as she could about the Monarcheans. Her trust did not come easily and she had suspicions about the upcoming trial. "It just doesn't add up right, Trance. Why would they release all of us, including Harper, yet insist on keeping my ship?"

"Maybe they think we're thieves," suggested Trance.

"We're not thieves, Trance!" Beka said, then self-consciously lowered her voice. "We haven't done anything like that in a really long time."

"I know, but maybe they think we are."

"Why would they think that? You didn't tell anyone anything, did you?"

"No."

Beka relaxed. "Well, anyways, that still wouldn't explain why they want to keep my ship."

Thus far, throughout the tour, they had stopped to explore almost every chamber of the museum but Beka noticed they were bypassing one.

"Where's that lead?" asked Beka, pointing and raising her voice to catch the attention of their guide who walked ahead of them.

The huge double doors Beka pointed to were at least nine feet high and were decorated in intricate wood carvings. The brass of the knobs had been polished to gleaming. The area around the doors seemed brighter and more maintained than any other area they had seen of the museum. The doors stood closed which only increased Beka's interest in knowing what was behind them.

Their tour guide halted, turned and said, "Those doors lead to the Hall of Music. It's not open to the public except on special occasions or by special arrangement." The guide explained that once a star traveler had come to Monarchea and gifted the ruler of that time with a song. The ruler had been so delighted that the traveler's musical instrument was given a place of honor. Through the years, other musical instruments and songmakers from various places had been gathered to be placed in the Hall of Music. The collection was the pride of Monarchea. Music festivals were held periodically and specially trained musicians would present the music of other cultures and lands so that anyone who wished could enjoy it.

"The Monarcheans really do love music," Beka remarked, impressed by the story.

"Just like you, Beka," said Trance.

"Yeah," Beka agreed with a little surprise. She had more in common with these people than she had at first thought.


The world was blue. The buildings were blue. Even the street signs were blue. This annoying blue vision left Tyr wondering why he had agreed to this venture and, to top it off, Harper's voice was buzzing in his ear. "Turn to the left. No, I meant the right. No, wait a minute. Did you pass that yellow building yet?"

Tyr pulled the visor up to get a view of Platea without all the azure. "I wouldn't know," said Tyr. "Everything's blue. Can you hear me?"

***

"Yep. Acoustics are great!" replied Harper, comfortably staring at the camera feed from Tyr's visor as he sat on board Andromeda. "I think I'm upside down. But I can see in all the colors of the rainbow. This is my best invention yet. Why didn't I think of it before? I'm here but I'm also virtually there. I can see and hear everything you do. Harper, you're a genius!"

***

Tyr lowered the visor and the world took on its blue hue. "Would you stop your self-adulation and tell me which way to go before I decide to abandon this endeavor altogether?"

"Oh yes," Harper's voice squawked in Tyr's ear. "Alright, keep straight down this street and your turn will be coming up. I'll say when. You know you didn't mean what you said just now. Steer clear of Dylan and Rev while you're down there, get back before they do, and I'll take care of Rommie with a bit of selective amnesia. Then, we both get to find out what's in--WHEN."

"What?" asked Tyr.

"Turn here, Leroy."

Tyr halted his walk. "Getting forgetful yourself, child? I am not Leroy."

"No, no. Course not. Make a Leroy, I mean. Turn left."

The streets of Platea were narrow and maze-like. Tyr did his best to follow Harper's directions and, at last, came to the shop at the edge of town.

"Ah," said Harper. "Guy named Beni runs the shop. He sold Beka the box. He's gotta know what's in it."

"Are you certain?" questioned Tyr, opening the door and entering the shop. "Look closely, Little Man."

Tyr turned in a circle so Harper could get a complete view of the room.

Empty display cases, open drawers, bare cabinets, the trash scattered on the floor told them that someone had packed up recently.

And left in a hurry.


Two hours and one slipstream jump route away, night fell over Monarchea. The Eureka Maru was parked on a grassy airstrip just next to a large plaza. The huge square was flat and lined with rectangular pieces of gray pavement.

"Um," Trance tapped a Monarchean sentry on his winged shoulder with the tip of her tail. "Excuse me?"

"What do you want?" asked the sentry, turning to glare at her intrusion. "This area is restricted."

Trance stood with her hands behind her back and her tail waved back and forth. "Um...well, that ship you're guarding happens to belong to a friend of mine. And you see, I rode down here in it and left a few things on board. So, I was wondering," Trance paused to flash one of her cutest smiles. "If you would mind letting me go in there for a teeny tiny moment so I could get them."

The sentry shook his head. "This area is restricted," he repeated. "Until the trial is over no one is allowed inside the ship. Be on your way."

Trance's tail drooped. "The trial. Yeah, I know about that but couldn't you just this once make an itsey bitsey exception. For me? Please?"

The sentry narrowed his black eyes. "Who are you?"

Trance giggled. "I get that question a lot. You can call me Trance. Trance Gemini. Can I go in now?"

The sentry pulled an electronic list from his pocket, punched some buttons, and studied the display. Then, he looked up again. "Trance Gemini," he said, slowly. "Do you speak Common? This-area-is-restricted. That means you have to leave. Now."

Trance glanced over her shoulder, smiled and said, backing away, "You know what? I just remembered some important things I have to do, so I think I'll leave. Yeah. I'm gonna go. Nice chatting with you. Bye now." The Purple Girl exited the scene swiftly but her innocent demeanor melted away as she stopped around the corner to make her report to a figure dressed in black. "Sorry," Trance shrugged. "I did my best."

"Not a problem," Beka said, clutching the detailed scans she had succeeded in taking of the perimeter guards and areas around the Eureka Maru. "We got what we came here for."