Øregård threw his gear out the door and jammed his body halfway through getting momentarily stuck.
"He's like a big green pooh bear stuck in his cave," said a tickled Melock.
Murphy ignored Melock's anachronistic otherworldly references, caught the word stuck, grabbed one of Øregård's feet, and shoved him through. Outside, he stretched, and cracked, and groaned with delight in the freedom of movement. Murphy, Melock, and Grimble all followed suit and took deep breathes of the fantastically fresh air.
The three Gastraddars approached them. The biggest one stood in the center sporting a leather eye patch over a missing eye. To his left stood a nearly as large ogre with a gruesome spiked helmet hiding his face. At his right side was a female with long black hair hanging down the front of her armor in thick braids. Her eyes were as big and blue as Øregård's. The leader spoke for the group.
"We received your message," he said pulling a jagged sword off his back and holding it for all to see. "We are heading back to Gastraddar with a full hull. You're welcome to join us, Øregård." He said flatly while looking over the others with his singular disapproving eye.
Øregård turned to his new friends and said, "I will be with my people if you need me. My services are at your request, wizard."
"Excellent. I suspect we will meet again," said Melock.
"May the god of war guide you," said Murphy.
"Stay strong little warrior. Farewell Mr. Grimble Grumble."
"Travel far, friend," said the gnome.
He turned, the others turned, and the four green hulks boarded the gunship. Its ramp retracted and the ship noisily lifted off with a roar of turbo engines. They left behind a burnt patch in the manicured lawn and an offensive smell of exhaust.
"I would have never guessed to befriend a Gastraddar so easily. It's a shame to see him go," said Grimble.
"Indeed, but brute force won't help us infiltrate the Makina worlds," said Melock as he walked away toward the glass doors of the sprawling building.
Murphy picked Grimble up and followed. Integer stayed with the ship obsessively cleaning under the guise of necessary maintenance. They crossed the lovely upper-level garden alive with flowering beauty and walked into a hall of mirrors, gold, and countless sparkling chandeliers. A hologram of a middle-aged soft-spoken and trimly dressed human appeared before them.
"Welcome the Palaces of Versailles circa 2008-2009 of the old Earth calendar, the same year I, Jeff Koons, your host and guide, once held a major exhibition of my artwork. This painstakingly accurate replica of the palace is a work of such stunning craftsmanship that it surely boggles the mind.
"The Palace was the ancestral home of the French monarchy from 1662 until 1789 when the French Revolution ended their reign. Versailles was one of the most important landmarks in the history of France. I hope visitors will enjoy the juxtaposition of 20th century American modern pop iconography with the ornate classical Baroque style architecture and recognize the artistic similarities intrinsic to both. If I may be so bold as to draw your attention to the large scale metalwork in finely polished chrome of a balloon dog—"
"We're looking for the Technowizard," said Murphy having heard more than enough.
"Ah, well, Tykö is in fact the individual who created this replica and my program as well. I'm afraid he is not in residence at the moment. Unfortunately, I'm not at liberty to disclose his current location. However, I can tell you he was last seen exiting the system aboard a Makina spaceship. Sadly, I suspect foul play."
"So we are made to understand. Is there anyone else about who might be able to help us further?" asked Melock.
The Jeff Koons hologram put a hand on his hip. "Abeba is in the workshop. She hasn't come out since Tykö left. I doubt she'll be much help; she still hasn't updated the maintenance system and things are getting pretty dusty around here."
"Jeff, pourquoi ne prendre une pause," said an unseen voice with a heavy accent.
The hologram squinted into a corner and the others noticed the man standing there. He may have been there all along leaning in a shadowy nook. He was a lanky young man with shoulder-thick black curly hair, a short mustache that curled up at the corners, and a triangular point at his chin. He wore knee-high brown leather boots, dark riding pants, and a tailed topcoat over a fine gray shirt.
"May I present Monsieur de Martín, an admirer of our work and a visitor from the Gold Belt. He is the richest human in nine systems, envy of his species, and a renowned adventurer," said Jeff.
"Bonjour mes amis," he said stepping out into the light, bowing extravagantly, and flashing a smile full of golden teeth. "Sabastian de Martín at your service and it's the richest man in ten systems."
"I stand corrected," said Jeff. "I think I shall take a break." The hologram flashed out of existence.
"Don't mind him, he's upset that I don't value his artwork as much as Tykö. He's not even French," said de Martín.
"You're a friend of Tykö's then?" asked Melock.
"For my part, yes. When I heard his plan to recreate Versailles, I put down the money for the permanent space here on le Soleil Vert. What better place for the eternal home of such a merveilleuse treasure of human history."
"I'm Melock and this Sister Murphy and our Ursa Minor companion Mr. Grimble Grumble."
Sabastian bowed at the wizard, stepped past him, and offered his hand to Murphy. She did not take it. He flourished with a wave toward the gnome in her palm.
"Monsieur Grimble, I own two of your ships and am a tremendous enthusiast of your people's technology."
He touched his belt buckle and light bent around him until he vanished from view. Murphy narrowed her eyes at the spot where he had been. A shimmering light outlined his edges and he returned to the visible spectrum.
"Voilà!" said the pleased de Martín. "All the servants here share the same camouflage. Tykö had their plating dipped in the light refractive material and gave them sound dampening slippers." He clapped his hands twice. "Drinks for our guests."
From around a corner, a silver tray floated forward with a glass picture of chilled water and four glasses, one of which was very small.
"Delightful," said Melock after taking a glass that was poured full by an invisible hand. "A wonderful variation on the unseen servant conjuration. They're quite handsome androids."
"So you can see them?" asked de Martín.
"Why, yes," said Melock.
"Could you see me as well?"
"Of course."
"Prove it."
Sebastian sparkled out of sight again. The room was incredibly still. Melock's head turned with a grin tracking a silent movement and he reached out behind himself and patted the invisible man on the arm.
"You're right here."
Sebastian returned to the visible again. "Fantastique! You aren't from the drifter colonies, are you? Not descendants of Earth. You're like Tykö."
"We are Abraxian humans, yes."
"Wonderful, wonderful! I would very much like to visit your world."
"Well..." said Melock implying impossibility.
"I am fascinated with your magic and the mythical planet. I could be of great use to you on your quest to rescue Tykö. Walk with me, I'll take you to Abeba, and tell you of my skills on the way." He reached out with an open palm. "Monsieur Grimble."
"Why not?" said the gnome and he hopped from Muprhy's hand into the Frenchman's.
Melock and Murphy followed de Martín down the hall listening as he commented on the historical precedents of the various large scale oil paintings; the elegance of Marie Antoinette holding a rose, the regal grandeur of Luis XIV, and the significance of a self-crowning Napolean captured at the crucial moment of his coronation. He paused at a marble statue of the young woman with a bob haircut in full battle armor holding a sword.
"The Maid d'Orléans. She's like you, no?" said Sabastian to Murphy.
"Joan of Arc might easily be considered Sister Murphy's patron saint," said Melock.
Murphy looked at the sculpture and asked, "Who was she?"
"She was a young girl, like yourself, tasked by god to free her country. She led an army that liberated France and ended a hundred years of war," said a prideful de Martín.
"Her armor was very fine for a holy warrior," said Murphy.
"She fought many battles in service of the King. A legendary figure. Sadly misunderstood in her time, she met her end at the hands of a church she defended. Burned at the stake for heresy."
This last bit hit home with Murphy all too well and she looked into the lifeless marble eyes and connected with the figure from another world, from another time, yet fighting the same battles. She said a silent prayer for her sister in arms before moving on to catch up with the others.
Sabastian led them on a tour that ended two floors up at a metal security door that was definitely out of place with the rest of the palace. He knocked twice and the thick door opened like a vault. Inside was an orderly laboratory filled with computers and scientific equipment. Beakers bubbled, monitors scrolled, data disks spun magnetic tape, invisible servants worked, and sitting in a reclining chair with virtual reality goggles over her eyes was Abeba. She flipped her visor into dense black hair and revealed her beauty.
"My I present, Mademoiselle Abeba," said Sabastian.
"What do you want? I don't have time for your pale-faced friends," she said with a thick accent nothing like de Martín's.
"Don't mind her, most drifter colony humans grew up around a blue star and have darker skin pigment as a result."
"You're from the desert tribes of the southern continent unless I'm mistaken?" said Melock.
"Don't tell him that!" she snapped.
"Mon Dieu! You are from Abraxas? Had I only known," said Sabastian.
"He's obsessed from the stories—" Abeda looked at Melock and Murphy more closely. "You're here for Tykö?"
"Yes, seeking his knowledge on life extension, though I understand he is missing?" said Melock.
"You're an Abraxian wizard. I recognize your medallion," she said pointing to Melock's golden amulet. "You can't take that with you to Makina space. They'll want it. I'm Tykö's assistant, I know."
"We're hoping to rescue him, maybe you would join our party?"
She frowned at Melock. "I can't leave the palace. I have too much work to do."
"But, I'm sure you—"
"I too am a practitioner of the art. We are less than two months away from this palace becoming a permanent installation. It was my master's dream to complete it and I must be here every day to work the magic."
Her eyes met Melock's and she heard his voice in her mind say, "Upholding the code of the apprentice is an admirable cause. I understand."