The Heart of Ailonsileah

The Heart of Ailonsileah By Gareth Vaughn The dimly-lit metal and glass of the room glowed and pulsed with energy. Chatter was subdued in that elite kind of way, where those who gossiped made an attempt not to cause a cacophony of rumor. Despite his guise as staff, Shay still felt out of place, gloved and garbed as he was in the Tannensky house colors. The tray of flutes he balanced on his fingertips shook slightly. He was sure his accent was too low-class to pull this off. “Peach sunset champagne?” he asked, offering the tray to a stunning young woman in a glittery salmon-red dress. Even her brown skin shimmered like it was covered in tiny galaxies. “From Fruhe 4, a rare vintage.” Her perfect fingers reached out and took hold of the stem of a flute in an elegant motion without comment and without sparing a glance at Shay. As she disappeared into the crowd, his unease didn’t abate. He was far too sweaty to be here, too far out of his element. His skills were good, but he wasn’t certain they were elite-class good. He swallowed, only realizing the action was audible when Jerran’s voice crackled through his earpiece. “Keep it together, Shay. You’ve done this s**t a million times before.” Shay didn’t respond. He didn’t need to. He took a few conscious breaths and moved through the crowd, trying to edge closer to Bekkah Tannensky. Middle aged yet still fabulous in style and demeanor, Bekkah was the host of the current event, and Shay’s current target. If his team had done everything right, she had no idea they were about to sweep in and rob the hell out of her. “Excuse me,” said a voice far below Shay. He blinked, looked down, saw a ten-year-old boy dressed in clothing more expensive than Shay’s entire wardrobe back on the illegal ship. “I would like one of those.” The boy was pale, freckled, blue-eyed—and looked like he’d kick Shay in the shin if he refused. But what did he care? It wasn’t like he was here to uphold the law. He leaned down and offered the tray to the child. The boy’s eyes glittered with the triumph of someone who hadn’t expected such a desirable outcome, and he snatched a flute and disappeared into the crowd before Shay could change his mind. “Pay attention,” hissed Jerran in his ear. “She’s about to start.” The crowd had grown quieter, although no less tense. The unveiling was about to happen, and Shay was as eager as everyone else to get a look at the Heart, though he wiped his face of expression, needing everyone to take him as a bored, uneducated server. As everyone hushed he got eyes on Andy again, lurking near a doorway not far from Bekkah. Good. If he needed her, she was there for him. More than he could say for Jerran, despite assurances. Shay and Andy had worked together countless times and he knew she had his back—less so with Jerran, for all his bluster about untraceable, undetectable fireweapons, he was still new to their group. The already dim lights dimmed further. The smoothly contoured metal and glass of the room no longer glowed, the space feeling tighter and colder than ever. Shay was acutely aware just how close they all were to the vacuum of space, here on the Tannensky orbital, despite the thick walls and the top-of-the-line shielding and the latest in graviplating that actually felt like real planetary pull. Everyone hushed. A faintly blue light shone on Bekkah, setting the swirl of galaxy patterned gown she had to sparkling. “I’d firstly like to thank you all for coming out of your way to my humble orbital to share in this historic experience,” she said, striding to the center of the room. She was cool, at ease—probably smelled good, too. Shay was beginning to worry about himself with how hot and sweaty he was. He wanted to set the tray down. “Get closer,” hissed Jerran in his ear. Shay cast a glance at Andy, who tilted her head as though in warning. He agreed. Close enough for now. No need to unsettle Bekkah’s guards, wherever they were, with a staff member too nosy for his own good. “As you know from my interactive invitation, the Heart of Ailonsileah was thought lost to time for centuries. It was even a bit of a legend to some. No doubt there are even those of you among us here today whose sole interest is in seeing me be made a fool, as you believe no such artifact exists. I’d say I hate to disappoint you, but I really don’t.” She paused for the crowd to offer polite chuckles. “Now, as I truly cannot do the piece justice, I’ll step aside and let my appraiser, Dr. Galenn Moone, assail your ears for a while.” Bekkah faded from the bluish glow to light applause, and Jerran’s voice filled Shay’s ear again. “Watch for the Heart. This is our chance for assessment.” Shay bit back the urge to snap that he knew how this worked; his comm was to be used for emergencies only, otherwise as a way for Jerran and Andy—and Kell, back on the ship—to monitor him, not to bicker with his shipmates. Still, Shay had stolen an item or two in his time and he didn’t need to be coached by the new guy. Dr. Galenn Moone stepped from the shadows, demeanor comfortable, expression pleasant. He looked well fed and well maintained, as well as decked out in tech, although not obviously. His eyes were currently a red-gold-purple color scheme that screamed visual interface to Shay’s experienced eye. While they could be regular contacts or surgery, the way Galenn’s gaze faded out now and then indicated otherwise. His suit had a subtle sheen to it which spoke of expensive fashion—and ability to hide miniscule tech tools with ease. Shay gritted his teeth.