[center][h2]History vs. Folklore[/h2][/center] [center][img]https://i.imgur.com/YGKOIA3.jpeg[/img] [/center] The cargo bay was transformed. A large expanse of the deck had been covered in poly sheet, bunched up on some spots to allow for China Doll’s belly hatch to be used. More of the sheet was hung, forming shimmering walls to enclose the central workspace within. Inside were a sprinkling of work tables, knocked together from the boat’s arrangement of saw horses and reusable ply decks. These too were wrapped in the plastic sheeting, which was meticulously duct taped about their bases. Perched on deck beside the hatch was a rough looking metal basket whose obvious purpose would be movement of people and supplies to and from the surface. Hovering above the space was the Snuffler, swagged from its’ hanging eyes. As she surveyed the scene, Edina was reminded of the great dragons at the heart of every New Year’s celebration. “Well,” she smirked, hands upon her hips, “I don’t know if I should get a prom dress or if this is your ‘Serial Killer Coming Out’ party?” “How about both?” Yuri met the joke with a smile he intended to be unsettling, though in her presence he could never quite carry it off. “It’s all about the dust,” he defaulted to his natural self. “Since we don’t have a clue about what’s been accumulating on that asteroid for the past three centuries, we want to make certain that all we take away is in specimen bags.” She nodded her understanding. “I read the snuffler instructions. Pretty straight forward stuff,” she said as she moved toward the bulky serpent’s receiving end. “Did you and Abby learn anything new while you were putting it together?” “Yeah…don’t run it faster than Medium,” he cautioned. “We fed it a claw hammer at high speed to test? It shot out like a cannon and flew the length of the bay.” He recalled the moment; despite their anger of just minutes before, the sudden shock of the flying hammer prompted an exchange of wide eyed glances, followed by laughter. He’d known then that despite what had passed between them earlier, they’d find time to settle that hash. “So, medium,” he repeated. “That’ll give it just enough horse power to drop objects onto the filter screen.” “...Where we’ll hand brush ‘em and bag ‘em,” Edina completed the process. “Unless we find whole containers intact.” His smile was one of genuine appreciation. “You did your homework,” Yuri chuckled. “After all the work we put into building those three truss bays under the boat? I hope find at least one that’s intact. If I’m fantasizing,” he shrugged, “we find all three adrift in the field near the asteroid…but those are even longer odds.” He paused over the cargo bay’s machine controls. “Did you read the report from the museum’s astrophysics consultant?” “I skimmed it,” her brow furrowed. “Enough to know that he believes something about ‘deceleration impacts’ slowing the containers to allow the asteroid’s gravity to hook on?” “A nice way of saying,” Yuri interjected, “that those containers were likely torn to shreds by collisions with larger meteroids and smaller asteroids in the field around AN-3872. The unwritten hypothesis, and the reason we have Smaug here,” he delivered a pat to the snuffler’s control box as he spoke, “is the hope that three hundred years was enough time for all the contents of those containers to be pulled onto the asteroid’s surface.” Edina’s head tilted, an eyebrow lifted as she nodded a fresh understanding. “Yeah, that tracks. Do we have any idea what we’re searching for?” Yuri grinned. “We do…no thanks to the museum.” “Oh?” “SAM had a field day digging up information about Gossamer. Thanks to her, we’ve got the vessel’s flight log, passenger lists, and a cargo manifest that cites ownership of the containers they jettisoned.” “You gonna keep me waiting here?” Edina fixed him with an impatient glare. “All three,” he said slowly, as if to torture her anticipation, “were listed is items of cultural significance. Looks like two of them were parts of larger shipments that didn’t make it aboard the Arks…Louvre 25 and Vatican 17. The third,” he continued, “was from some native American museum. I forget what it was called. Something about the United Peoples…” Edina’s mind drifted back to her own reading. “The Louvre and the Vatican,” she said absently, before her mind snapped back to crystal clarity. “Not to be paranoid or anything, but if we hit paydirt, how much do we trust the museum folk not to have a reception waiting for us on our way back somewhere?” “That’s a fair question,” the First Mate agreed. “I’ve got a feeling Captain’s already sussed out an answer.” “Well that’s shiny and all,” she folded her arms before her, “but if SAM can dig up that sort of word, so can others. Folk begin to figure out the meaning of ‘Louvre’ and ‘Vatican’, they’re gonna start seeing lots of pretty. I’m just saying wherever we put in to hand off better be someplace among friends we can trust.” Yuri stifled the smile that wanted to rise to his lips; likewise a smart response about her taking his job. Edina was being deadly earnest, and her thinking in the matter was spot on. He’d already fouled up one conversation recently. No need to add a second to the growing pile of his social inadequacies. “You’ve just given me an idea on that,” he replied. “I’ll run it by the Captain.” “Share?” “Not yet.” “You’re a very bad man,” she scowled. “Possibly a serial killer,” he smirked. “So, did SAM find out anything else that was cool about the Gossamer?” Edina asked. Yuri nodded vigorously. “Somebody should write a book,” he exclaimed, “if the Alliance ever declassifies the records. They figured out the inadequacy in their navigation system…the reason they had to jettison all those containers and cast off so much weight for the extra turns. And,” he smiled, “there’s a story that one of our containers had a stowaway aboard when it was jettisoned.” “What?” “Yeah yeah,” he laughed. “The native American one? If the story’s true, there was a guy onboard, great grandson of the museum curator. He snuck aboard the container to stay with the artifacts. Nobody really knows for sure,” Yuri added. The guy…John Blackfeather or something like that…just stopped showing up for his work shifts. They searched for him and never found him, so…” the Mate waved his hand, “a ghost story was born.” “The Haunted Asteroid,” Edina smiled. “Creepy…like you.” Yuri took the laughing woman into his arms. “Just you wait til tonight, Little Missy.”