was that the man had double-crossed High-Lord Lee Hyun-Woo, a fatal mistake at best. Not known for his forgiving nature the High-Lord had sent his fleet to apprehend man and ship. Surrounded on all sides by his enemies, with no way to escape, they had both simply—vanished, never to be seen again.
Yet here was the Celeste . What was it doing? How had it gotten here? So caught up in the moment of discovery and like a kid who had wandered into a candy shop, I failed to consider that perhaps I wasn’t the only one that was proficient in the use of remote monitoring devices. I failed to notice the frantic blinking red light, as I stepped aboard the ship for the first time.
*****
Had I not been disturbed, I think I would have happily spent days exploring that ship. Sticking my head into every nook and cranny and, that was before I had even begun to dismantle everything, working out what made it tick. For I had already observed several unrecognisable systems, when I was abruptly interrupted.
It’s a proven cliché to have a gun stuck in the back of your head and to hear the sound of it being cocked it sends a certain shudder down a person’s spine. So I was somewhat relieved to not hear that sound; relief, that quickly evaporated, when instead a low-pitched hum started. It quickly grew in pitch until it made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Taking inordinate care not to make any sudden moves, I turned my head slowly, taking a good look round, finally able to make out the shape of a pistol—the likes of which I’d never seen before.
It appeared to be ridiculously delicate, even transparent, as if carved from the most fragile of glass. My gaze was immediately drawn to the breech, or at least where the breech should have been, for instead there was a pulsating red glow. My eyes became fixated on it, as the rhythm was almost hypnotic, beating in time to my own racing heart. I’d never seen the likes of such a weapon before, but at once knew exactly what it was. After all, my father had described it to me in exacting detail.
A fusion pistol.
Built by Professor Alcubierre personally, only a few existed, all used exclusively by the High-Lords—the personal weapons of the Gods. Following the hand firmly grasping the pistol, I looked up, fully expecting to see one of those High-Lords standing before me, but instead found something far, far, worse.
The disappointed face of my father.
“Let me guess, you went looking for a late night snack and got lost?” he uttered wretchedly.
*****
“How did you know where I was?” I asked curiously several minutes later, after my father had directed me to a small room in the ship, where I found a table and several chairs. Ignoring my question, he pushed me down into one of the vacant seats, before taking a seat of his own, on the opposing side of the table. At least he had finally put away the pistol that he had been pointing at me, so I was fairly certain that he wasn’t going to shoot me, at least not yet.
Giving me a frosty glare, instead of answering my question, he tossed something onto the table. It clattered onto the desk, the sudden crack making me jump in contrast to the still of the ship. Lowering my gaze to the object sitting on the table, I hesitantly picked it up, instantly recognising it as the picture that was sitting on his desk. This time, instead of the image of the unknown woman, it was displaying a schematic of the ship; with two profusely blinking red dots, the two of us, I assumed. I closed my eyes cursing my stupidity. Obviously the remote was from the ship and had immediately notified my father when I had stepped aboard.
“You don’t seem surprised,” he mused, out loud. “Hence I assume that you already know about the remote?”
“Yes, but I didn’t know about the Celeste , I thought that it was the remote for a Superluminal Transmitter. That’s what I was looking for.”
“The
Yet here was the Celeste . What was it doing? How had it gotten here? So caught up in the moment of discovery and like a kid who had wandered into a candy shop, I failed to consider that perhaps I wasn’t the only one that was proficient in the use of remote monitoring devices. I failed to notice the frantic blinking red light, as I stepped aboard the ship for the first time.
*****
Had I not been disturbed, I think I would have happily spent days exploring that ship. Sticking my head into every nook and cranny and, that was before I had even begun to dismantle everything, working out what made it tick. For I had already observed several unrecognisable systems, when I was abruptly interrupted.
It’s a proven cliché to have a gun stuck in the back of your head and to hear the sound of it being cocked it sends a certain shudder down a person’s spine. So I was somewhat relieved to not hear that sound; relief, that quickly evaporated, when instead a low-pitched hum started. It quickly grew in pitch until it made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Taking inordinate care not to make any sudden moves, I turned my head slowly, taking a good look round, finally able to make out the shape of a pistol—the likes of which I’d never seen before.
It appeared to be ridiculously delicate, even transparent, as if carved from the most fragile of glass. My gaze was immediately drawn to the breech, or at least where the breech should have been, for instead there was a pulsating red glow. My eyes became fixated on it, as the rhythm was almost hypnotic, beating in time to my own racing heart. I’d never seen the likes of such a weapon before, but at once knew exactly what it was. After all, my father had described it to me in exacting detail.
A fusion pistol.
Built by Professor Alcubierre personally, only a few existed, all used exclusively by the High-Lords—the personal weapons of the Gods. Following the hand firmly grasping the pistol, I looked up, fully expecting to see one of those High-Lords standing before me, but instead found something far, far, worse.
The disappointed face of my father.
“Let me guess, you went looking for a late night snack and got lost?” he uttered wretchedly.
*****
“How did you know where I was?” I asked curiously several minutes later, after my father had directed me to a small room in the ship, where I found a table and several chairs. Ignoring my question, he pushed me down into one of the vacant seats, before taking a seat of his own, on the opposing side of the table. At least he had finally put away the pistol that he had been pointing at me, so I was fairly certain that he wasn’t going to shoot me, at least not yet.
Giving me a frosty glare, instead of answering my question, he tossed something onto the table. It clattered onto the desk, the sudden crack making me jump in contrast to the still of the ship. Lowering my gaze to the object sitting on the table, I hesitantly picked it up, instantly recognising it as the picture that was sitting on his desk. This time, instead of the image of the unknown woman, it was displaying a schematic of the ship; with two profusely blinking red dots, the two of us, I assumed. I closed my eyes cursing my stupidity. Obviously the remote was from the ship and had immediately notified my father when I had stepped aboard.
“You don’t seem surprised,” he mused, out loud. “Hence I assume that you already know about the remote?”
“Yes, but I didn’t know about the Celeste , I thought that it was the remote for a Superluminal Transmitter. That’s what I was looking for.”
“The
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