Well, I would say that our characters today are in a classroom of sorts, though perhaps a graduate level classroom where the focus is much more on practical research than learning theory. I hope you agree that I've not distorted the prompt too much :)
In the classroom The basement corridors of the Museum were wide and well-lit and had odd stains here and there. Fabian had tried asking Cass about them early on when he'd joined the Museum, but not only had she never given him a direct answer, but the amount of cleaning of the corridors she then ordered had led to a two-day strike -- practically unheard of in the Empire -- until she 'calmed down a bit'. So Fabian had ceased to press her on the stains and they had persisted, and now here he was again, looking at them and wondering what could create a purple blotch that stretched nearly forty metres down the corridor and rose to head-height in places along the length of it. He knew iodine stained things purple, but that much iodine would surely have killed people. The Maestro was sitting on a small stool that rotated freely in the assessment room. There was no other chair; the room was really intended to be used by only one person, perhaps with an assistant. There was a large steel table between Fabian and the Maestro, and on the Maestro's side of it a bench with a microscope, a thaumoscope and a variety of vices, clamps and tools for unscrewing, digging, poking and prising. Above the table was a steel-armed cradle that contained a camera that Fabian could identify and other things that he couldn't. At each corner of the table was a small blue crystal, which Fabian knew was copper sulphate with impurities of less than one-in-ten-thousand. When the Maestro started work they would be activated and would project a containment field magically along the perimeter of the table as an added precaution. Fabian set the case containing the miniatures down on the table and stood slightly back. He'd never done an assessment by himself, though he'd witnessed several as all biological, or suspected-biological, assessments had to have a senior member of the Museum in attendance to confirm that nothing unethical happened. The Maestro stood up, his spryness always a surprise to Fabian, and opened the box. Carefully he took the figurines out and set them on the table, and then did something with the controls on his side of it. There was a short hum like a motor purring to live and then a click. "Five thaums," said the Maestro, checking the readout. Fabian wondered if could move to get a better view, but decided that he didn't want the Maestro shouting at him. "Hmm. Not really dangerous, but they're quiescent... there's a drawer on your side of the table. Take two red crystals out and replace the blue ones nearest you, please." As Fabian and the Maestro swapped the crystals over Fabian admired one for a moment. "What are these?" he asked. "I've not seen them used before." "Only done the deaders, hey?" The Maestro sounded less annoyed than usual. "These are the stasis field crystals. It's purely a precaution, but if there's anything hidden in these things that suddenly starts drawing more power, the stasis field will deaden whatever they're trying to do."
"I thought we lost the stasis fields?" Fabian slipped the blue crystals into the drawer and closed it up; the room seemed oddly slightly warmer down, which he decided was a psychological trick of the red crystals changing the lighting. "We lost the Eye of the Beholder because it rotted." "We've lost the big stasis chambers," said the Maestro. "Though if we got a fresh Eye we might be able to do something about that you know... but anyway. The big crystal that powered them got damaged a bit after the Day of no Sun and it just faded away over the next decade or so. Your precursor didn't seem so bothered about it." Fabian sighed, and then caught himself and felt annoyed. He was sure he'd been doing better about not just admitting his emotions lately. "I'll take a look," he said. "Probably cost, that's usually why things get left. There's never any room in the budget; it would be nice not to have to juggle things for once. Just one year, one, that's all, where I don't have to compromise between this, that and the other." He stopped speaking and stared; the Maestro had done something to the figurines and they had first lined up and then sprang apart, setting themselves in attack postures, arrayed as though they'd heard something coming and were hunting for signs of its approach. "Definitely Misulli," said the Maestro, smiling thinly. "And the thaums have gone up to over 20, so there's a lot more to this than meets the eye. These can't go on display until we know what they're supposed to do. How long can you leave them here for?"
3 comments:
Well, I would say that our characters today are in a classroom of sorts, though perhaps a graduate level classroom where the focus is much more on practical research than learning theory. I hope you agree that I've not distorted the prompt too much :)
In the classroom
The basement corridors of the Museum were wide and well-lit and had odd stains here and there. Fabian had tried asking Cass about them early on when he'd joined the Museum, but not only had she never given him a direct answer, but the amount of cleaning of the corridors she then ordered had led to a two-day strike -- practically unheard of in the Empire -- until she 'calmed down a bit'. So Fabian had ceased to press her on the stains and they had persisted, and now here he was again, looking at them and wondering what could create a purple blotch that stretched nearly forty metres down the corridor and rose to head-height in places along the length of it. He knew iodine stained things purple, but that much iodine would surely have killed people.
The Maestro was sitting on a small stool that rotated freely in the assessment room. There was no other chair; the room was really intended to be used by only one person, perhaps with an assistant. There was a large steel table between Fabian and the Maestro, and on the Maestro's side of it a bench with a microscope, a thaumoscope and a variety of vices, clamps and tools for unscrewing, digging, poking and prising. Above the table was a steel-armed cradle that contained a camera that Fabian could identify and other things that he couldn't. At each corner of the table was a small blue crystal, which Fabian knew was copper sulphate with impurities of less than one-in-ten-thousand. When the Maestro started work they would be activated and would project a containment field magically along the perimeter of the table as an added precaution.
Fabian set the case containing the miniatures down on the table and stood slightly back. He'd never done an assessment by himself, though he'd witnessed several as all biological, or suspected-biological, assessments had to have a senior member of the Museum in attendance to confirm that nothing unethical happened. The Maestro stood up, his spryness always a surprise to Fabian, and opened the box. Carefully he took the figurines out and set them on the table, and then did something with the controls on his side of it. There was a short hum like a motor purring to live and then a click.
"Five thaums," said the Maestro, checking the readout. Fabian wondered if could move to get a better view, but decided that he didn't want the Maestro shouting at him. "Hmm. Not really dangerous, but they're quiescent... there's a drawer on your side of the table. Take two red crystals out and replace the blue ones nearest you, please."
As Fabian and the Maestro swapped the crystals over Fabian admired one for a moment.
"What are these?" he asked. "I've not seen them used before."
"Only done the deaders, hey?" The Maestro sounded less annoyed than usual. "These are the stasis field crystals. It's purely a precaution, but if there's anything hidden in these things that suddenly starts drawing more power, the stasis field will deaden whatever they're trying to do."
"I thought we lost the stasis fields?" Fabian slipped the blue crystals into the drawer and closed it up; the room seemed oddly slightly warmer down, which he decided was a psychological trick of the red crystals changing the lighting. "We lost the Eye of the Beholder because it rotted."
"We've lost the big stasis chambers," said the Maestro. "Though if we got a fresh Eye we might be able to do something about that you know... but anyway. The big crystal that powered them got damaged a bit after the Day of no Sun and it just faded away over the next decade or so. Your precursor didn't seem so bothered about it."
Fabian sighed, and then caught himself and felt annoyed. He was sure he'd been doing better about not just admitting his emotions lately. "I'll take a look," he said. "Probably cost, that's usually why things get left. There's never any room in the budget; it would be nice not to have to juggle things for once. Just one year, one, that's all, where I don't have to compromise between this, that and the other."
He stopped speaking and stared; the Maestro had done something to the figurines and they had first lined up and then sprang apart, setting themselves in attack postures, arrayed as though they'd heard something coming and were hunting for signs of its approach.
"Definitely Misulli," said the Maestro, smiling thinly. "And the thaums have gone up to over 20, so there's a lot more to this than meets the eye. These can't go on display until we know what they're supposed to do. How long can you leave them here for?"
Greg - after reading that Fabian was going to the assessment room with the Maestro, this felt like the most appropriate prompt I could come up with :)
It's nice to see these two working together... amicably? Is that what's happening here? I'm not used to seeing such behavior, is all...
Glad the Maestro is able to start unlocking the secrets of the figurines. I am very curious to see the final results of this assessment!
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