Page 83 of On a Rogue Planet
From the ceiling hung huge chandeliers of twisted metal. She tipped her head back to look at the one above them. It looked like it was made from, she squinted, from starships, consoles, and if she wasn’t mistaken, satellites.
There were statues made of other metallic parts dotted around the room. They looked like old-fashioned robots fashioned from spare parts—an arm of syndroid, a head made from a computer, the body made from some sort of transport, and starship landing struts for legs. They were kind of scary but intriguing at the same time.
But the recessed shelves set into the walls were the most amazing.
Each one housed a technological artifact or treasure. Mal and Xander strolled past each one. An ancient Terran tablet computer, a pre-Sync communicator, an old satellite, an early nuclear starship engine.
“Oh my stars, Xander. Look.” Mal kept her voice hushed.
It was an ancient Terran television. From long before holo technology. So incredibly old.
“Forge has quite a collection,” Xander murmured.
And Mal had no trouble imagining why he’d been so eager to add the Antikythera to his treasures.
Stars, Dathan, Nik, and Zayn would love to see this stuff. In a way, the place reminded her a little of home. With her salvaged scrap and her cousins’ treasures lying side by side in the hangar.
Mal swept the room with her gaze, this time studying the guests. Lots of people, lots of species. A female Vatinae sauntered past them, towering over Xander. Her skin had a green sheen, and she looked like a giant praying mantis with humanoid features. Not far beyond them, stood a mated pair of Galli telepaths. Both wore elaborate robes in rich colors, the taller woman stroking the neck of her shorter female mate.
The clothes throughout the room were also varied and colorful. It seemed that out here, beyond the edge of the galaxy, people liked riotous color. Many of the outfits were in crazy neon colors—pinks, oranges, greens, and blues. Even the men were wearing bright colors with skin-tight trousers and blousy tops.
Mal tried to picture Xander in an outfit like that, and failed. She was pretty happy he’d gone traditional. The man looked sensational in black.
“Let’s circulate,” she whispered.
He tugged her around a group of laughing pointy-eared Rendarians. “Recon.”
“Yes, recon.” Once a CenSec, always a CenSec.
They moved in a circle around the room. Sampled the food on the heavily-laden tables. There was something to tempt everyone from unappetizing gray cloned fruit to fresh hydroponic salads. Mal grabbed a flute of golden champagne and allowed herself one sip. It tasted like gold as well.
They chatted and smiled with a few guests. Well, Mal smiled and chatted. Xander just stared and made people nervous.
With a quiet laugh, she pulled him away. “Any sign of our host yet?”
He shook his head. “I’ve heard he waits for all his guests to arrive before making a grand entrance.”
“Where’d you hear that?”
He tapped his ear. “Enhanced senses, remember. I can filter out multiple conversations at once.”
She eyed the room again. It was getting full now, and over in one corner, a band had started playing. The music was fast and loud. A few intrepid couples had ventured onto the dance floor and were moving to the frenetic beat.
She turned into Xander’s chest. “Want to dance?”
“No.”
“Come on, let’s?—”
Suddenly, the music stopped, replaced by the deafening beat of drums. They spun, and at the head of the room, the walls began retracting with a muted whirr.
A huge metal…well, Mal wasn’t quite sure what it was. She forced her lips to stay pressed together to keep her mouth from hanging open. It was a creature made of scrap. It moved forward on six legs.
And standing atop it was a tall, thin man in a top hat and tails the color of copper.
He raised his arms. “Welcome, one and all, to the lair of the Technomancer.”
Mal had to admire the man’s style. She saw Forge touch something on his arm. “What’s that?” she whispered to Xander.
