Solid Love
“The first thing that I remember was that everything was dark. It was the only thing I could remember and the only thing I could see. It was in this dark that I felt myself large. Connected to everything around me. I could feel when creatures crawled over me. When they perched from a long day walk to rest their four legs. I found it relaxing to feel their stomachs expand and deflate. A set of rhythm that I could not do myself. I could not move my legs or expand and deflate my stomach. I didn’t have a stomach. I didn’t have lungs to even breathe. And my story would end there, in peace and solitude. Yet they came for me. Just for me.”
1
“Careful now. One misstep, and you’re falling hundreds of meters. The winds here can be dangerous just like it is on earth,” said Richard, his voice coming through the speakers in Justin’s spacesuit. It was clear but held a nostalgic feel as one would have when listening to a radio from the 70s.
“Got it, Richard. I got it,” Justin said, clipping himself to the dynamic rope that stretched from the mountain wall to the white and grey space cargo ship. Richard had already bolted down the hooks for them. He was the older one and had more experience in the work compared to Justin. This was his first time out. First time off world.
He wiped the white, yellowish red dust from his orange and white spacesuit. A design that was ripped from classic Sci-fi. That was the going theme for the suits and the ship. State-of-the-art technology covered in 70s and 80s nostalgia. A throwback to the days of Alien and The Thing. When times were full of imagination, endless potential, and a twisted type of freedom.
Justin looked out over the yellowish mountain and out to the sea of red and brown peaks that protruded up through the white sandstorms. He could see bits of green starting to grow among the land. By his feet, a small like fern mixed with a type of algae grew. It was a remarkable invention crafted by the Sherrington Corporation, a mix of plant, algae, and an improved version of Cyanobacteria that worked in harmony. Drawing ten times the amount of energy from the sun. In maybe thirty to forty years, Venus would be breathable.
“Amazing isn’t it,” said Justin. He felt like he was on top of the world.
“Yeah, it is kid. But we ain’t here to sightsee,” said Richard walking off the ship with a large tool. He held it like a machine gun, but the head was that of a buzzsaw. By the handle, there was a red light. Richard placed his finger on the trigger, and when the machine dinged, the red light switched green. It revved like a motorbike, and the buzzsaw roared like a chainsaw cutting through the air. After a while, he let go of the trigger, and the tool became dormant. “Come on kid, grab the geo cart and let’s go.”
The two took their time across the mountain’s small plateau to the opening of a cave. Richard was the first inside; it was only a couple meters down. Leading to a clean grey slate. It was smooth, almost like touching ice or glass; take your pick.
“It was pretty nice of the scouting team to dig us this hole,” said Justin, carefully leading the cart down the cave’s path. He didn’t want it snagging on the walls or damaging the geo boosters underneath.
Once both men had reached the grey slate, Richard started revving the tool. It was much louder in the cave. Both men pulled down their second visor to shield them from the sparks that the tool made as it cut around the grey slate. It whined in a high pitch scream, almost as if the mountain was wailing in pain. The sound scratching the inside of their ears.
Richard took three hours to cut out the grey slate. He was sweating inside his suit; he was starting to wish there was some type of cooling function to it. “You okay,” asked Justin.
“I’m fine. Plant the disks, and let’s get out of here.”
Justin slapped on six disks and pushed a button on his tablet strapped to his arm. The disks lit up in a teal blue. The two men then proceeded to pull the grey slate out of its resting place with little to no resistance. Almost as if the slate was free from the rule of gravity. It was two hundred and fifty centimeters tall with a width and thickness of a hundred and ten centimeters stretching. A perfect rectangle with no blemishes.
The slate landed on the geo cart, and Justin started to pull it out. Richard just behind.
“It was easier than I thought,” said Richard. “The damn thing didn’t even feel connected to the mountain.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? We found it in a mountain.”
“I know, but come on, doesn’t it look different. It’s freakin’ perfect like some type of alien technology, you know. The Slab was connected to the mountain, or the mountain grew from it. One of the two. How did the scouting team even find this thing?”
“I heard from the boys in the Mining department that it was a request from a sculptor. The crazy thing is, watch your step,” said Justin as he pulled the Slab out of the cave.
“Thank you.”
“The crazy thing is the sculptor had a vision of it on this mountain. So, Mr. Sherrington sent out the scouting team to go look for it while they were looking for a place to settle down Regius-1.”
“Ain’t that the new mining facility.”
“It’s in the works. All they had to do was follow the sculptor’s description of the mountain, and they found this bad boy just sitting inside, I guess,” finished Justin patting the old thing.
The two men loaded the Slab up on their spaceship, and with a whirl of the engines and whoosh from the jets underneath the ship, it was in the air. They left Venus behind. They left the mountain behind. It stood alone as all mountains do, majestically reaching for the heavens. Some say mountains were giants reaching for the heights. Others would say they were the backs of large turtles that settled down to sleep. Resting until the time was right to awake again.
A crack ripped through the small mountain’s plateau where the ship had rested. Another crack ran up to the peak of the mountain. Then another crack and another and another. Before long, the mountain started to crumble and fall into pieces. Disappearing into the white dust storm down below.
It was gone.
2
The studio of Lou Charpentier was one of clutter. With slabs of antique stones covering each corner of the large room. “It was organized chaos,” Lou would tell his fiancé, and that is not to say that every artist’s studio is a mess. Lou’s tools were neatly cleaned and in their proper places. A single table sat in the middle of the room with sketches of Lou’s next design. A miniature sculpture of a man and woman embracing each other sat in the middle of the table.
All around the table was nothing, enough room to hold about ten people. Right next to the table was the grey Slab from Venus. It stood in a dark grey shimmer that looked ebony. And Richard was right; the Slab was alien. Alien in the way that it was alive.
“Hello,” said the Slab. “Anyone there. I feel cramped. Is there a reason for that? Oh, I wish I could see, maybe then I could figure out where I was…wait, I didn’t know where I was before. So, I guess there was no way for me to figure out where I am now. It was comfortable, though.”
The studio door was swung open, and Lou stomped in, remembering to slam the door as he entered. “Why can’t she just understand my work,” he yelled to no one. “Is it so hard for her just to accept me as me? Be proud of me.” He pulled out a seat from the table that sat in the middle and positioned it in such a way that he could see the grey Slab. “This is all me. All I know. For God sake, I’m a multi-million-dollar sculptor. I have more clout than Timothée Chalemet, and you’d probably treat me the same even if I was an actor. Comparing me to all your friends in real estate or trades and say I don’t have a real job.” Lou took a minute to catch his breath. “Damn it, why do I love her so? It’s abusive, but I…just…maybe I could help her see the world like I do. That’s what you’re going to be,” he said, pointing to the grey Slab.
“Great, I can’t wait. I think,” said the Slab, but no words came out. “Hello?” The Slab asked, again and again, no words. “What strange thing I am?”
“Mr. Slab, I am Lou Charpentier, and I dreamt of you one night on the beautiful planet of Venus. You will be my magnum opus. A part of a bigger piece when the Sherrington Corporation finally finds your sister slab. But until then, I shall work on creating you.”
“Nice to meet you, Lou Charpentier. Though you can’t hear me, I am delighted to see what you…what do mean by creating me? Also, what do you mean by slab? What’s a slab?”
“Alright,” said Lou picking up a stick of red chalk. He glanced over to the miniature sculpture on the table and carefully started sketching out the design on the grey Slab.
“Oh, that feels funny. What is that? It breaks so easily.”
“Whoa, you’re a lot smoother than I thought,” said Lou. “It’s almost a shame that I have to cut into you.”
“I wish I knew what you meant by that,” said the Slab.
3
“Morning Lou,” said the Slab. It had been a couple months now since it had been living in Lou’s studio. Every day Lou would come in and start working on Slab; he was gentle with it. He only had one Slab and couldn’t run out and get another one. So he took his time.
Lou guided four men into the studio to a sculpture of a woman in the corner. She was partially nude, with her dress clinging to her skin. Two of the men wore coveralls while the other two wore suits. After talking for about what seemed to be a couple minutes, the men in suits nodded and left. The two men placed some disks on the statue, quite similar to the one that carried Slab out of the mountain. The disks lit up in a teal blue, and the figure was floated right on out of the studio.
“Thank you, gentlemen. Good doing business with you,” said Lou closing the studio door. He let out a sigh of relief and started coughing. It was a dry cough but nothing too serious. He then walked over to the Slab picking up his angle grinder along the way.
“Alright Slab, I think we’re making great progress here. You’re an unusual material, I have to say. The Sherrington Corporation has been asking for your filings. I don’t know what they want to do with the extra pieces of you. Well, maybe I do know. Probably for studying. Shall we start working out the rest of you?”
“Yes, Mr. Lou. I’ve been waiting all day for you. You’re so gentle with me. You put so much care into shaping me.”
“You know I get this feeling…that you’re alive somehow. You know, like you’re trying to talk to me. Maybe I’ve been inhaling too much of your dust,” said Lou laughing before coughing again. “I do hope I get over this cold. Every year I tell myself by October I won’t get sick, and here I am getting sick.” Putting on his mask Lou turned on the angle grinder. He made some divots and started scraping away layers of the Slab. “You know I think you’re going to be great. I think you and I are going to have a good old time learning about each other. You’ll know how I form. Scraping here,” said Lou scraping away some of the stone. “And I’ll know what form you want to take.”
Lou worked at the stone as the sun in the skylight started to move around the room. Slowly, dancing on the flow of time. The sculptor taking each stroke and chisel with careful purpose. The sound of stone smashing into the studio floor echoed throughout the room. A cough here and there. Lou’s hazel eyes focused on the Slab, listening to its words without listening to the words.
“When I was a boy, my father used to take me to Sunday school. You probably don’t know what that is.”
“I’m intrigued,” said the Slab.
“I found it all to be boring, to be honest. Learning about a religion far too old to matter to me. The morals seem right, some of them. But there was this line…I don’t know how it goes, but…it talked about how the stones knew the Lord’s name or something. I found it funny because stones don’t have faces or eyes, so how could they know. Then I did my first project. I gave a pet rock some eyes and mouth. I drew it on with a crayon. Eyes you will get in time, my friend. Not with crayon, I’ve moved past that.
“My project wasn’t fancy. I drew on the eyes and brought it to my mother and said tada.”
“You must have been proud. I think that is the word. I’m learning so much from you,” said the Slab.
“I was very proud of it. Somewhere inside me, I wanted all the rocks in the world to see and have mouths. I wanted to hear their secrets. You wanna hear one of mine?” Asked Lou.
“Yes. Even though I don’t know what a secret is.”
“I used to sketch out all my projects but at some point. I found it all useless. I make miniatures, of course for investors and gallery owners, but the final design of all my work comes from the stone.”
“We tell you where to go?” Asked the Slab.
“It tells me where to go. What it wants to be. I don’t know what you want to be. I have the vision, but the final design comes from you. So be gentle with me.” Lou tapped the chisel into a groove removing a small chunk. “I guess we’ll have to find a name for you soon.”
4
The studio door was thrown open again. This time Lou stumbled into the studio, slamming the door closed. He was wearing a black designer winter coat and a fedora on his head. A black and red scarf was wrapped around his neck. In his hands was a half-empty bottle of Aviation Gin. Lou gripped the bottle and stood upright; he had tripped on the welcome mat at the front.
“I’m good. I’m good,” he told himself as he walked up to the center table and took a seat. He put the bottle on the table with the full weight of his arm, resulting in a loud thud that echoed through the scarce studio. Many of Lou’s sculptures were gone. Sold to the highest bidder. “Ten million dollars. That’s right, ten million dollars! That’s what bidding gets you. Fuck off with galleries setting prices for my work; let the rich fight over it. I’m a one of a kind, I tell you,” said Lou turning to face the Slab. “A prodigy like Michelangelo, Gianlorenzo Bernini, and Auguste Rodin. A prodigy!”
“Lou, are you okay?” Asked the Slab. His creator looking worse for wear. His cheeks had sunken in, and his eyes had black bags under them. His hair was stringy but well kept.
“A prodigy…who can’t even keep the love of his life in his life.” Lou took a swig of his gin. “Crazy, isn’t it? I have so much money, so many clients scratching at the door for new pieces so they could put them into their house. Yet the person who supported me from the very beginning thinks all I do is waste away. No one cares for my art, she tells me. She hoped that I would drop sculpting like it was a bad habit. A phase that a teenager would go through. I’m forty-five, for God sake. This is my life! Just because you’re embarrassed to mention to all your high society friends who don’t know me, you think you can just throw me away. You forget, bitch! You forget…who brought you from poverty to high society. To be honest, Narcissus,” slurred Lou, he had finally named the Slab. “I liked it better when we were poor. Sure, getting rent was a pain in the ass, the same for food, but we were happy. The simple things made us happy. Like new tv shows, Christmas dinners with old Claymation Christmas movies on in the background, and if I made some money from my work, I would take us out to the Burger King or A&W.”
“Oh, poor Lou. Don’t you know I’ve been watching you from the moment you gave me eyes? I see your trouble, my dearest. I know how much work you put into your creations. So much love and care. I feel it every time you chip away at me, chipping away till my final design. I feel the love you have for this fiancé; I feel the love you have for her and for me. Your rough hands that brush away the dust, to your voice that soothes out the silence I hear whenever you are gone. If I could hold you and bring you close, I would comfort you.”
“Albélia, why are you so cruel to me. All I have shown you — ,” said Lou as tears started to fall from his eyes. “ — is love. Love is all I have for you. Yet you turn me away like some roach in the street.” He put down the gin and grabbed a chisel and hammer. “My Narcissus, my statue that will love himself. I will be gentle with you tonight. You don’t deserve all of this, all me.” Lou stepped close to Narcissus and wrapped his arms around his masterpiece. His tears seeping into the stone.
“I want your all, Lou. You are everything to me. I feel your tears, your emotions. They enter me, my love. Let’s prove her wrong with my beauty.”
Lou, in his tears and rage, worked hard on Narcissus. Pouring his emotion into the stone that witches and warlocks only wished to possess. Creation was being made in the moonlight on that New Year’s night. Horror. Horror. Horror for the future that neither being could foresee.
5
“I gotta say, Lou, this is probably your best work,” said a man with a thick beard. He was in his fifties, or so he looked to be in his fifties. He was a muscular-looking fellow in a baby blue suit with his hands in his pocket. “If I didn’t know better, I would say he was alive.”
“He…he is alive,” said Lou walking over to his seat. “You don’t mind if sit down to do you?”
“Not at all, my old friend. You seem worst for days.”
“Doctor says I have some type of cancer in my lungs. Probably from all the smoking I found myself in. It’s a straight out lie that it helps with stress.”
“I could have told you that, but didn’t you only start smoking some months ago. How could cancer come so quickly.”
“That’s why I called you. I want to know if Narcissus is killing me.”
“I would never, my love,” said Narcissus. The man glanced over to the statue, and strange as it is, Narcissus flinched. The man smiled.
“The researchers have concluded that your statue is made from an interesting type of clay,” said the man.
“Clay. You’re fucking with me. That thing is as hard as marble. Maybe harder,” said Lou.
“Come now, Lou. When have I, Harrison Sherrington, ever lied to you?”
“That time when you said it was a…what was it…safe to drive your father’s new prototype speed car.”
“That was one time.”
“Yeah…and it killed someone. I bet Steven hasn’t forgiven you yet,” said Lou. Harrison didn’t even bat an eye and glanced over to his friend.
“It haunts me too, you know, but that’s not what you want to talk about. Your statue is a living organism. In a frozen state of animation. It pulled the earth to it, trying to form some type of hill or maybe a mountain.”
“Like a cocoon?”
“Yes,” said Harrison walking over to Narcissus. “Right now, it’s in an incomplete form, but that’s not the scary part. All the researchers got cancer. Well, it’s not really cancer. It’s some type of mutation in the lungs or stomach. Meaning that once it’s inside your body, it starts to latch on to your organs.”
“So, I am going to die….” The two men didn’t say anything after that. It was awkward. A pregnant pause between the two men. “I think I’ll still work on the old thing. Could you work it out with my lawyer and make sure that everything I own goes to Gwynn’s daughter?”
“Eris? You’re giving everything you own to Eris?” Asked Harrison turning around to his friend. “Are you crazy? She’s only twelve.”
“Is it strange that I’m giving everything to your daughter?”
“She’s no daughter of mine. Her mother raised her to be a Vera rather than a Sherrington.”
“Yet you have the poor girl on ice. So, you obviously care for her,” said Lou.
“It was the request of her mother.”
“Then take this as a request from a dying friend. I’m leaving a chunk of Narcissus with her and a video of me. Don’t watch the video Harry, and no funny business with the will either.”
“Then why don’t you do it then,” said Harrison.
“Because I’m going to finish Narcissus. He’s almost done.”
“What are you going to do with it?”
“With him,” said Lou. “I…I don’t know yet.”
6
“You’re so close to me, Lou,” said Narcissus. Lou was adding the finishing touches to his masterpiece. His hands frail now, only skin and bones, shaking as he polished the last bit of his work. He was sickly looking, with eyes more sunken in and his skin a grey pallor. Lou carefully stepped down from his ladder. He then took a seat at the table in the center of the room.
“There you go, Narcissus. All done. Look at you. You glisten in the light, but it’s too overpowering. You were going to be a part of something bigger, but I don’t think I have the strength to go one more day. You are my final piece, my love. I’ve shaped you from my image, with a couple added parts to myself to look good,” Lou chuckled. “But you are wonderful. I know just exactly where to put you.” Lou looked around the studio. It was empty with only his tools and dust around. “I wish someone could congratulate me. I haven’t had someone do that for me in so long.”
“Thank you,” said Narcissus. Lou glanced back to the statue.
“Did you say something?”
“I said thank you, my love. You spent so much time with me, put so much care in me. You crafted in me a beauty like no other. Poured your heart and soul into me. Congratulations, Lou, you did a fantastic job.” Lou leaned back in his chair. Tears slid down his face. A smile crept up.
“So you could talk…thank you,” said Lou. “Thank you…I think I’m going to take a little nap. Giving my eyes a little break.”
“Take all the time you need, my love.”
“Thank you.”
7
The studio door opened, and a woman with black hair walked in. She wore a cream leather jacket with a black crop top and cream joggers with black converse shoes. Her hair was pinned up in two buns, and she wore Gucci shades. A couple men in coveralls came in after her. The men had a tag on their clothing that read ‘Sherrington Co.’
“What a dreary place,” said the woman. “I can’t believe he spent most of his time in here. It’s so empty.”
“I heard it used to be full, but he sold all his pieces,” said one of the men.
“Oh, did he? I can’t wait to see what I get from his will.”
“You’ll have to wait till — ”
“Sorry for being late,” said Harrison entering the studio with an old man in glasses. “Old Conner had a hard time coming up the steps.”
“Don’t call me old, Harry,” said the old man. “Now, where is this thing.”
“Just this way.” Harrison guided Conner past the men in coveralls and then the woman.
“Mr. Sherrington,” said the woman grasping Harrison’s arm. He glanced down at his arm before looking at her. The woman let go. “Sorry. May I ask why you are here?”
“Didn’t Lou tell you?”
“Tell me what?” Asked the woman.
“You’re Albélia, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then he should have told you that I would be coming,” said Harrison.
“We haven’t talked since New Year’s. We broke off our engagement,” Albélia said.
“I must say you look awful young to be dating Lou.”
“Thank you. I have been using your company’s anti-aging cream. It does wonders.”
“Yes it does.”
“Did you know Lou?”
“Harry, I don’t have all day,” said Conner.
“It’s alright, old boy. Albélia is a significant person in all of this,” said Harrison before directing his gaze back to the woman. “Yes, I did know Lou. We grew up together. He’s a dear old friend of mine. It’s a darn shame we lost him to cancer.”
“Y-yes, of-of course. He never mentioned you.”
“Why would he? He had no reason to. Do you tell him about all your friends?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“See, everyone keeps secrets. Now then to the unveiling.” Harrison marched over to the large shrouded piece in the center of the room. He motioned for some of his men to pull the blinds from the skylight. The light beamed down onto the piece. Harrison grabbed the tarp covering it and pulled it off, revealing Narcissus in all its beauty. The light made him look holy like God was looking down at them. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Harrison looked back to Albélia. Her mouth dropped open, and her eyes in astonishment.
“L-Lou made this?”
“Yes, he did.”
“It’s truly a masterpiece,” said Conner organizing his papers on the center table. “He was a one-of-a-kind sculptor.”
“It looks just like him,” said Albélia.
“It was supposed to be a two-part piece, but he ran out of time. Unfortunately, we never did find the other material made from it, so even if he could, it wouldn’t be the same.”
“It must be worth a fortune. Imagine how much I could make from this.”
“Probably in the billions if you played your card right.”
“I would be the talk of the town. I-I mean Lou would be the talk of the town.”
“Yes, Marble was fortunate to have such a son,” said Harrison before sighing. “Conner the papers.”
“Yes, yes. Have a seat Mrs. Peppermen,” said Conner gesturing to Lou’s seat.
“It’s Miss Charpentier. I just changed it a couple weeks ago. It only seemed right; we were going to be married after all,” said Albélia.
Conner raised an eyebrow. “Right. I shall start then. According to Mr. Charpentier’s will. His estate and all thing in the mansion on 54th street in the Lexicon district will belong to Albélia Peppermen, now known as Albélia Charpentier. The — ”
“Can we move past the estate and cars and other properties,” said Albélia interrupting. “I think we know who it goes to.”
“Yes, Miss Charpentier, it does go to you, and we’ll move on to the meat of the will,” said Conner. Not a single man in the studio laughed or made a sound. No one moved. “Mr. Charpentier’s three hundred and seven million dollar bank account will have its money transferred to the account of Clementine Eris Sherrington — ”
“Wait. Who?”
“Clementine Eris Sherrington.”
“Who the hell is that? Another bitch of his?”
“She’s my daughter,” said Harrison.
“I’m sorry.”
“Lou was her godfather, though he only met her once or twice. Nevertheless, he felt it was his duty to offer his funds to her.”
“So, you get the money. That’s why you’re here. To suck what’s left from Lou’s dead corpse. I should tell the Marble Times about this,” said Albélia, getting riled up.
“Albélia.”
“I can’t believe that you, his best friend, would do this to him and using your own daughter — ”
“Albélia!” Said Harrison raising his voice; it echoed through the room. “My daughter is in a coma after a car accident that killed her mother. The money is for her. There is a separate team involved to manage the funds for tax reasons. I promised Lou I would take none of it. And on paper, I don’t even have custody over my daughter.”
Albélia took a moment.
“Then what do I get?” She asked.
“Let’s see here,” said Conner. “You get this beautiful statue.” Conner motioned to the miniature statue of Narcissus and woman wrapped around him. The woman looked a lot like Albélia. The statue was rough not even polished. Most of the edges were a bit boxed and angled.
“That’s it? What about this large…beautiful masterpiece?”
“That will be sent back to Venus — ”
“Venus. You got to be kidding me? That thing is going back to Venus?”
“Yes. It was the most recent addition to his will, just before he finished it. He felt that he should return it back to whence it came.”
“You heard him boys,” said Harrison. “Pack it up and ship it. I want it off world in four hours.” The men rushed to the statue placing more disks on them that lit up teal blue and started moving Narcissus out the back of the studio.
“That’s all I get, a dinky miniture. It’s not even finished,” complained Albélia.
“Oh yes, there is one more thing,” said Conner.
“It better be money.”
“No money, just a note. ‘Dear Albélia, by now, you must be surprised by the will. I have given everything away to my goddaughter. You can have the house, the cars, and the clothes, but not Narcissus. I’m sending him home. A certain man convinced me that it would be best for him to go home — ”
“What man?” she asked.
“Can you please stop interrupting me?” Asked Conner, he was visibly annoyed at her. She had only come in and caused unnecessary stress. Making a fool of herself. “Now where was I… ‘I believe that you should have the statue of Narcissus and his mate, which was the blueprint for the final piece, but I ran out of time. Though it is only a sketch model, I have deliberately left it unfinished. To symbolize how you broke our engagement before we were married. In a twisted way, we are unfinished. You may complete the statue if you want, but don’t sell it. Or break it. If you do, there is a device located in the piece that will inform the Sherrington Corporation to seize the house, the cars, and everything inside.
“Sincerely, Lou Charpentier.’ Please sign here,” finished Conner. Albélia sat there as all her expectations shattered.
Everything that she was hoping for was snatched away in front of her. Her skin started to go pale, and strands from her hair started to fall out. Her eyes going unfocused as her thoughts enveloped her mind. All of this was because of Lou, but she couldn’t harm a dead man. Then her eyes darted to Harrison. If I kill him, I could get everything back. I could threaten the lawyer. Yes. Everything…. She glanced back to the men in the room. The workers. They would stop her, and everything would be gone again.
“M-M-M-M-Mr. Sherrington is there no way that I could have some of your daughter’s money. I’m…greatly in debt,” said Albélia biting down on her lip, trying to drown her pride. “And I was hoping this would be a way for me to pay it off.”
“Sadly no. I can’t even touch the money myself. Why are you in debt? You should have some money saved up from working,” said Harrison.
“I-I-I haven’t been working since Lou got famous. I don’t have a dollar to my name. I’ve been sleeping with friends and moving around. It been hell since Lou and I separated. He even locked me out of my bank account.”
“You mean his bank account,” said Conner.
“Well, that does sound terrible. How much is it?” Asked Harrison, he was starting to have pity on the girl. She looked like she was losing herself, but Harrison loved people like this the most. People that needed him. An idea grew in his mind.
“3.8 million,” said Albélia.
“Jesus, who loaned you that much money.”
“A third party.”
“Oh, deary. Well, I can tell you this. I’ll give you a job, just because I’m nice. You see, there was a recent opening at the RSCA, and they could use extra hands. But with the debt, you’ll probably have to pay it off by selling the house and the cars. We could only help you so much, and the RSCA doesn’t pay a lot compared to the allowance that Lou was probably giving you.”
“Seriously, but I’ll lose everything.”
“Yes, but at least you have the statue, and I hear third-party loan sharks can take more than property. If you understand what I’m saying. Be fortunate you still have your life,” said Harrison. He looked concerned for Albélia, but there was more being said behind his eyes. He looked cold to her.
“Yes. Mr. Sherrington.”
8
The ST-7 cruised over the white sandstorms of Venus. Narcissus stood erected inside the twelve-foot-tall freighter. He was strapped down tightly that he hardly shifted when the spaceship hit turbulence.
“Amazing isn’t it, Rich,” said Justin adjusting his seat belt. He was admiring Narcissus and all of its glory. The seats in the ST-7 were at the end of the room in the middle, with the pilot cabin just behind them. Justin, Richard, and a woman named Kate sat in the chairs.
“Yeah, it looks nice,” said Richard.
“It’s more than just nice. When we pulled that slate out of the mountain, I couldn’t even imagine what it would look it. Kudos to the artist.”
“I hear he’s dead,” said Kate.
“Heard that too,” said Richard. “Cancer or something.”
“Not from my source.”
“You have a source?” Asked Justin.
“You always need a source for information in this day and age,” said Kate.
“And?” Asked Richard.
“Apparently, that killed him.” Kate pointed at the statue.
“The statue killed him?!” Asked Justin. “Are we even safe?”
“Don’t know, but I bet you my salary witchcraft was involved.”
“You don’t believe in all that,” said Richard.
“I believe in anything if there’s fact to it. The facts are staring us in the face,” said Kate. “The thing looks like it could move. No human could have crafted something so life-like. See at the bottom by its feet how the ship floor is already starting to reach for it.”
“I did notice that,” said Justin.
“You underestimate the tenacity of an artist, Kate,” said Richard.
“Throughout history there is proof of this. No human can make a masterpiece like this,” said Kate. “Ever heard of the twenty-seven club? Ever heard of the devil’s crossroads?”
“No.”
“Well you should have. It’s all about making deals with devils nowadays. I bet that the sculptor sold his first born to the devil or even worst drank the menstrual blood on full moons.”
“Gross,” said Justin.
“Maybe all those missing homeless people are because of him. Maybe the art looks so life like because he puts people inside them,” grinned Kate.
“All bullshit.” Said Richard.
“A devil lives in that.” The ship rattled almost as if it was on cue. The three held on tight to their seats. The turbulence rattling their jawbones. It got worse as the ship felt like it had lost all control. They felt their stomachs start to rise up before dropping to the pits of their guts as the spacecraft equalized itself. The ship’s light flickered on and off, before they heard a snap.
“What was that,” said Justin glancing over to the statue, his voice shaky. Before he gulped in a large amount of air, tensing up.
“You okay,” said Richard turning to his friend as the lights returned to normal. Richard felt a shade over him. He squeezed his hands until his knuckles turned white. A looming figure of unknown possibility froze the middle-aged man in his seat.
“Rich…ard,” said Kate, her voice whispering in a feverish tone.
Richard took his time twisting his neck, his body fighting back against his nature. His eyes caught the color of something ebony with a shade of green. At last, he rested eyes on the face of Narcissus. The statue’s eyes unblinking, the pupils hollowed out. Narcissus was crouched over, eye level with them.
“How dare you talk ill of my lover. Your minds are too weak to fathom the astronomical feat of an artist that peered beyond the realm of life. At the curtain behind reality. I could snap you,” said Narcissus snapping his fingers, shattering the workers’ eardrums as blood poured from their ears. The three didn’t even flinch, their fear keeping them upright. Kate had started to sweat, the color of her skin rapidly fleeing from her. “Earth will have a reckoning, and I will watch from my throne. Until my lover is once again embraced in my arms.” Swiftly Narcissus dashed to the back of the ship. He pulled the lever to open the bay doors and made one last look at the three.
“What’s going on back there,” said the pilot over the intercom. “All the instruments are going haywire. And the hell was that sound. I can’t hardly hear anything out of my ears.”
“Mark. My. Words,” said Narcissus before disappearing into the Venusian storm.
A king of Venus had landed.
