The Heart of Ailonsileah

Chapter 2

“Careful,” said Jerran into his ear. “He may be one of her lackeys.”

Shay rolled his eyes at Andy, who ignored him. He told himself at least Jerran could spot a threat.

“I could bore you all with my credentials, but you didn’t come here to see me, after all,” said Galenn. The audience chuckled again. Everything was fake niceties with these people. “A quick recap, then. Not so many lightyears from here, a gorgeous planet once orbited a dying star. The people of that world had a complex relationship with the star, which they called Ailonsileah, for they knew it was only a matter of time before its death throes claimed them, too. Yet while they had substantial technologies and crafts capable of spaceflight, they were not at a point where they could either flee or undo the star’s imminent implosion. Their fate, unfortunately, was unavoidable.

“It was a tragedy. The people of this world excelled at many skills we still have rudimentary grasps on. Art, for one. And while they could not prevent Ailonsileah from dying, still they were capable of carving away a piece of its innermost pulse. The greatest talents of the time worked on the piece, crafted to be kept by those who attempted to flee. A piece of home. The Heart of Ailonsileah.”

As he spoke, he stroked the cuff of his left sleeve, a little motion ending in a kind of twist of the pad of his finger. Shay doubted anyone had noticed it but him. The motion activated a pedestal before him, buried in the floor, which rolled up silently and smoothly, velvety cloth draped over the top, concealing what lie beneath.

“I could relate to you what few historical facts we know of these people, what we’ve gleaned from debris and artifacts we’ve plucked out of that sector over the centuries. But you are not here for that. You are here to witness the legend, see with your own eyes the height of Ailonsilesh artistic genius, the great creation mentioned in their decaying logs and scrawled in their ancient scripts on paperthin metalpad notebooks. You are here for nothing short of the Heart of Ailonsileah itself, miraculously retrieved from the void of space in a burnt-out old solar system, and today you are the lucky few who have that historical privilege.”

“I’m tempted to put a round in his lung just to cut his air supply in half.” Jerran’s words were short in Shay’s ear. “Get on with it, asshole. We got a schedule to keep.”

Galenn glanced dramatically around the room, eyebrow c****d. Shay liked the slight twist of his mouth, just the hint of itspresence there striking him as cocky rather than confident. He probably wasn’t sweating in his suit like Shay was.

Then, when it felt like everyone had stopped breathing, Galenn pulled the velvet cloth off the pedestal in a smooth, swift motion.

The Heart of Ailonsileah. It perched on a stand under glass, shimmering. It was a bizarre thing—created to look like an organ, yet inexplicably close to a heart-shape. The chambers were obvious and many, the color metallic and black with a hint of every other color underneath. It did not seem to glow. The size was larger than expected, at least as large as a small housecat.

And it was a fake.

Shay clocked it immediately, Andy, too, by the sound of her muttered swearing.

“Get closer,” hissed Jerran.

People were murmuring. Shay could hear suspicion among their chatter. He glanced up at Galenn and their eyes met; Galenn’s mouth seemed to visibly smirk. Shay’s heart practically stopped—he couldn’t tell if Galenn had him made, or simply was gloating to a willing participant.

“I have, of course, authenticated the real Heart of Ailonsileah,” said Galenn, causing the chatter to die off a moment before roaring back with indignant intensity.

“You mean this isn’t real?” asked the woman in the salmon-red dress. Her eyes flashed sharp as lasers.

“Please, please,” said Bekkah, sweeping back over with hands held up. She nodded to Galenn with a grim sort of smile and he fell back. “This is indeed a replica. But a taste of the real thing. I can’t have the real Heart of Ailonsileah in a room with so many people, much as I may trust each and every one of you individually.”

“What is she, the new Jimmie Kaiser IV?” muttered someone to Shay’s left.

He got that reference, more because his group had made the mistake of trying to rob the man early on in their careers. Jimmie Kaiser IV was a collector of rarities whose entire display was painstakingly crafted holosculptures of the work he owned. Where he kept the originals, no one knew. Some said he didn’t have them at all. Regardless, the rumors had never bothered Jimmie, who gloated often about new acquisitions and never showed off anything other than a fake.

Shay did want to get closer. He tried to press his way through the crowd by offering tense guests more expensive champagne. Some took him up on it. He edged around to Bekkah’s right, a little closer than he had been, and tried to ignore the feel of Galenn’s eyes on him. He didn’t want to glance over and confirm the art appraiser was looking at him; it would only make Shay sweat more.

“I am not saying you cannot view the Heart of Ailonsileah,” said Bekkah, and the noise finally died down. “If you managed to listen through your entire invitation, you are already aware I brought you here today to ask for money.” She paused for chuckles, but no one was in the mood to be polite. Bekkah cleared her throat, a little nervous to Shay’s eye, and continued. “Well. I didn’t ask you here to gloat, or at least not to spend so much time gloating. I’m giving you the opportunity to see one of the galaxy’s rarest works of art, but I’m making you pay to do it. You see, an organization very dear to me—one that does simply stellar work with disadvantaged youth on backwater planets—is in dire need of funding. For any donation—any donation at all—to the Fair Child Fair Chance Fair Futures Project, you will get a private viewing of the Heart of Ailonsileah.”