Читать книгу The Vault of Finished Goods - Назар Валерьевич Валеев - Страница 6

The passage grew wider, and its walls stretched far into the darkness. An intricate ornament, carved with care and great diligence by ancient craftsmen, adorned the panels, set with refined inlays of dark stones that glowed faintly in the dark, framed by neat round crystals which shimmered invitingly and warmly, even beneath a layer of millennia-old dust.

Wide-eyed with awe and shifting excitedly from foot to foot, Smorg accidentally stepped on a slight protrusion in the floor. At once, something clicked inside the wall, and a large square recess slid open. Light glided across its inner surface, reflecting off a hemispherical dome. Inside lay a small bright-blue crystal. At first glance, it appeared simple and clear, but once viewed from a different angle, a strange glimmer flared deep within, as if someone had lit a tiny lamp in its very core and forgotten to turn it off.

«That’s impossible», Arma responded, analyzing the data received from the droid. «Inside the crystal there is a stable compound of several inert gases. By all known parameters, it should have decayed immediately after synthesis.»

«Smorgs didn’t like when things fell apart», Smorg replied. «Especially things meant to shine. Everything here breathed harmony. And combination – precise, like the proportions in a cut. If something didn’t sparkle… it simply meant it was meant to sparkle a little later.»

He froze, tilting his head to the side, as if trying to see not the crystal itself, but what lay behind it. Then he carefully crouched down, stretched his neck, blinked once, for certainty, and whispered:

«This… this is it… the legendary Single Prototype! I read in the chronicles that it was stored separately, in a compartment marked ‘do not enter unless necessary.’ Which is exactly where we are now! And we do have necessity!»

«Let me get this straight: the Smorgs named one of the greatest masterpieces of their people ‘The Single Prototype’?» Arma inquired delicately. «Isn’t that a bit too prosaic, even for the driest of scholars?»

But Smorg seemed not to hear her. He did not breathe for nearly half a minute, and then, with a reverence rarely found in beings capable of repairing equipment and synthesizing questionable chemical elixirs, he slowly lifted the dome and took the crystal into his hand. It was unexpectedly warm, almost alive. Just in case, he felt around the bottom of the niche and found an old folio with a beautiful emblem, cast from fine white metal with a purplish sheen. The inscribed pages with illustrations had been preserved surprisingly well. Apparently, the warmth of the crystal had served as a decent protection against relentless time and dampness. On the back, the same emblem could be seen, only smaller, and within it, some letters could still be made out.

«‘Property of Master Sindr’», Smorg read in a whisper, squinting a little, speaking to Arma, who was closely monitoring everything through the droid’s sensors. «Now we have living fire!»

The droid tilted its head slightly, as if agreeing politely. As though in response, a sharp mechanical sound came from somewhere deep within the chamber.

Smorg froze.

«That… that was you, right, Arma?» he asked with a barely noticeable hint of fear, and Arma registered his pulse rising.

«No», she replied. «It appears there is something else here, but my scanners are not detecting any movement.»

«Perfect», Smorg whispered, tucking the crystal and the folio into the breast pocket of his suit.

The path continued through a gallery. The dust underfoot resembled soft ash. When they reached the hall, Smorg stopped again, struck with awe. The floor was made of transparent crystallite, and within it was an enormous mosaic of precious stones arranged in the shape of blossoming trees. Some inlays had cracked, some had grown dull, but it did not spoil the overall impression.

«This is the work of the Teiran clan masters», Smorg said quietly, sniffling slightly. «Their emblem is on the folio, by the way. I’ve seen only small fragments in the archive, but I never thought I would see this whole!»

He slowly knelt down and noticed faint traces.

«Someone was here», Smorg said. «Someone long ago, and someone more recently. Old tracks from heavy magnetic boots, like those used by mercenaries… and another one… quite unusual and large…»

«Then be careful», Arma said in a low but firm voice. «We don’t know who it could have been, or what their intentions are. I assume, at the very least, not the kindest.»

Acting on some instinct, Smorg took the crystal with the living fire out of his chest pocket once more and placed it at the very center of the mosaic. A second later, a projection rose into the air, displaying a winding map of complex tunnel systems. At the bottom, the familiar clan seal glowed clearly: «Kolo Teiran. Final Assembly.»

«It’s as if they knew they wouldn’t last long», Smorg whispered. «And they hid there what they believed truly mattered.»

Smorg looked at the mosaic again. The Single Prototype still stood at its very center, perfectly aligned with the pattern, as though it had always been intended to fit there. The map continued to hover in the air, its lines leading further downward, pointing the way through a branching network of ancient corridors and halls.

«It seems we’re on the right track», Smorg muttered, and there was no longer contemplation or awe in his voice, only quiet determination and a spark of excitement, that very combination which usually left no room for hesitation or doubt.