The Tomorrowland Premier's Complex stood upon an elevated section of Metropolis bedrock, just across the Cosmic Promenade from the center of the grand capital of the League of Planets. The central structure was a sterile bone-white, with sides that angled in toward the roof. Four sleek spires commanded attention at each corner of the building, each framed with a waterfall that emptied into a small canal that led back to the Promenade. From the outside it appeared the building had no windows, but from inside the exterior walls were an endless amount of perspectives to gaze upon the city.
My office coincidentally enough had a perfect view of the Transit Authority Blue Line Platform 1, where I had run the control console. I kept the gears humming for over seven rotations, until I decided it was time for a change. My father connected me with someone in the Premier's Complex in the Communications Analysis Division - news my roommate, who does communications at Light & Power, was thrilled about. She has had some real adventures over there and I was looking forward to finally having some of my own. Who knew communications could be so exciting?
So far it really hadn't been that exciting. Communications Analysis for the Premier involved working through a five-rotation backlog of 'suspicious' communication that needed to be verified, investigated, and if necessary passed with recommendation to the Tomorrowland Security Agency.
Beep Beep Beep
The sound of another 'suspicious' transcript hitting the backlog.
"Nora, I am assigning this one to you," said my leader without looking up from her console. This happened three or four times a day. Marian Beck had been working in the Communications Analysis Division for nearly thirty rotations. She was good at her job. Didn't ask questions.
"Is it a good one?" I asked Marian. She didn't respond.
Beep Beep Beep
I assigned myself and opened the file before Marian could speak again.
--connected--
MOV : What did he say?
VT : Another no. No one wants to touch it
MOV : Weird. Please keep trying.
VT : I'll see who else I can find
--disconnected--
The new file was a pile of transcripts to and from the Merchant of Venus over the last three rotations. Most were encrypted chats on the Galactinet where she used the moniker MOV. That one wasn't that hard to figure out. Who she was talking to and what she was talking about was a bit more difficult. It all seemed harmless though. I wasn't sure why the Merchant or any of this would be considered 'suspicious' by the Premier.
I had been to the Merchant's shop a few times in my life. Most people shopped at Star Traders for galactic curiosities, but when you wanted something special you went to the Merchant. She kept up an interesting inventory of trinkets and rare items that she had acquired through her many trading partners. The transcripts needing review all seemed to indicate she had an item she was trying to move that no one really had an interest in.
--connected--
MOV : I'm not sure I understood your last message
R : They warned the trade network to stay away from this one if it ever came up
MOV : Who are they? Why is this such a big deal? It's just an ancient photograph.
R : I would just dump it.
--disconnected--
The transcripts were slowly getting interesting but there were so many more to go through. Maybe it was time to speed things up.
"Welcome, friend. Is there anything you are seeking today?" asked the Merchant of Venus. I was idly browsing some shelves of artifacts from Europa.
"You know, I am looking for a present for my father. He absolutely adores ancient photographs," I turned toward the Merchant to see if she had a reaction. She was absolutely unfazed as she moved from behind the counter to pick up a large binder.
"Here you will find a collection of photographs from a number of rotations and points of interest. Does he find any subject or time period more interesting than others?" she asked me.
"He...uh tends to like photographs that no one else seems to want?" I managed to stumble out while approaching the binder.
The Merchant narrowed her eyes. "Let me know if you have any further requests," she said and walked back to the counter.
I pretended to flip through the binder for a few moments and then awkwardly made my exit.
It took 72 Grid Cycles and 8 carafes of caf to get through all of the transcripts in the Merchant of Venus file. All of the conversations fell along the same lines of her trying to move the photograph and hitting roadblock after roadblock. There were a few more mentions of the ominous warning and the third party trying to prevent any trade, but nothing concrete. There was only one message that stood out.
--connected--
MM : Taren kor esh-imara
MM : Kai thalas Maris-anor vorin kor
MM : Sael vek-en. Kyr vash 21. Noren.
MM : Sael leth.
MOV : Message received
--disconnected--
I wasn't quite sure, but I think this particular message was sent in ancient Martian. I really didn't know any of it but I knew someone who knew someone who did.
"Nora...if this is what I think it is, this is huge," said my roommate Isla.
"I'm not sure I understand what the big deal could be," I said echoing the Merchant's transcripts.
"What have you got, Phoebe?" Isla asked her team leader from the League of Planets Liaison Team. Phoebe had apparently learned some ancient Martian at Progress Tech.
Phoebe read aloud:
"We are willing to accept the photograph
We shall provide ancient Martian technology of equal value in exchange
Meet us at the following coordinates during your Grid Cycle 21 tomorrow
Come alone"
"Oh wow!" Isla's other co-worker Stro shouted. We all turned.
"You have the whole 'Neighbors on Nebula Nine' series on holo-disk? I would love to watch this."
"STRO!" Phoebe shouted.
"Sorry! I can borrow this though?" answered Stro, still holding the disk.
"What? Yeah sure," answered Isla. "Nora, this has to be it. The other half of that torn photo I found."
"We found," Phoebe said, stretching her arms out wide.
"Oh now you're okay being a part of that?" asked Isla.
"That's leadership for you," chuckled Stro. Phoebe frowned and took the holo-disk he was holding.
"We need to be at those coordinates tomorrow. Nora, are you in?" Isla offered.
"I'm in."
The coordinates led to a dimly lit alley behind the First Intergalactic Bank. We arrived early to try and catch the Merchant before the messenger arrived. The 'come alone' part from the messenger was also concerning so we really wanted to avoid that. The Merchant was already there, standing directly beneath a flickering lamp.
"Are you MM?" The Merchant called out, before getting a clear look at our faces. "Wait...weren't you in my shop the other day?"
"That was me," I answered, "but we are not MM. My name is Nora and these are my friends Isla, Phoebe, and Stro."
"Merchant, we believe the photograph you have is very important," Isla said, pulling out her half of the ripped photo. The Merchant looked at the photo with some confusion, and then pulled out the image she carried. It was a ripped half of an old photograph.
The Merchant reached out and handed the half to Isla, who took it and lined the two halves up. They fit together perfectly. We gathered to inspect the image. On Isla's original half, four humans with antique plasma shovels stood in an empty Rocket Tower Plaza. On the Merchant's half, four Martians stood by their side with their own equipment. This was the moment of the Great Illumination. A moment we had all been taught was the work of the humans. This was evidence against that. Evidence there was more to this story. That's why someone else was trying to get their hands on it. But who?
"We said to come alone." came a voice from the shadows. Three Martians walked into the light. Each wore a vest that had a patch of the moon Phobos on it. Isla quickly handed the completed photograph to me.
"I did. These four were just passing by," The Merchant said, motioning for us to leave.
"Not so fast," said the lead Martian, revealing a laser pistol. The Merchant of Venus revealed a 626-model blaster of her own.
"Run!" she yelled and fired in the direction of the Martians.
Everyone scattered. Stro, a bi-pedal sponge creature, jumped into the nearest puddle of water and grew ten times his original size to help shield the getaway. Inadvertently he separated me from the rest of the group. A laser blast singed a hole through the now-giant Stro. For a brief moment I was able to see Isla, Phoebe, and the Merchant. The Merchant was continuing to defend the group as they backed away to escape.
"Go!" Isla screamed. "Take it somewhere safe!"
"That tickles!" Stro boomed from above, laughing. The hole in him closed back up.
I ran.
Halfway down the stretch of the Cosmic Promenade between the First Intergalactic Bank and the Tomorrowland Premier's Complex I paused to catch my breath. I pulled the two photo halves out and looked at them again. I wasn't quite sure I understood the full implications of all of this. Isla seemed to know more.
I wondered where I could take the photo to keep it safe. The Premier marked the Merchant's communications on this as suspicious, so obviously he thought it was important to keep safe. That would fulfill my duty at the office. Somehow that didn't feel quite right though.
I was torn deeper than the photo that I held in my hands.
"and over the red valley straight into the gorge of DARKNESS!" the older Martian concluded his story to the group of tourists who now shuffled elsewhere in the exhibit.
"And how may I help you?" he asked.
"Hi - my name is Nora. I have something I think might be important to you," I said, handing him the photo pieces.
"Hello, Nora," he said, smiling. "What you have here is very important to all of us."
A younger Martian walked up to us.
"Nora, my name is Orin. This is my grandson Kaelen. He will help you keep this photograph safe." Kaelen took the photograph and nodded.
"What else can I do?" I asked the pair.
"We will meet again soon," Orin clasped my hands and smiled once more.
My SMART band buzzed with a message from Isla :
Back at our place. Everyone safe. Stro is watching Neighbors on Nebula Nine. Take the day off?
I typed up a response :
I'm in
Elsewhere in Tomorrowland
A slow-moving dark cloud robbed Metropolis of the normally sun scorched afternoon. The spires towering over each corner of the Tomorrowland Premier's Complex stood firm against the winds beginning to howl. Inside the office of the Communications Analysis Division, the sound of the coming storm couldn't be further away. Marian Beck sat in an intense quiet, looking up.
"What...happened?" asked the Tomorrowland Premier.