Chapter 3: The Garden Where Comets Swim
Chapter 3: The Garden Where Comets Swim
The old quadrant was nothing like the bustling heart of Starship Dock. Down twisting, underlit stairwells and through out-of-code maintenance corridors, everything seemed to hum with a secrecy all its own. Patches of lichen glimmered in the piping, and echoes of long-gone announcements trailed like ghosts beneath their feet. Mira led with impatient steps—boot treads echoing—while Zuri’s four eyes flickered as she scanned everything for meaning or threat. Luca brought up the rear, quietly calibrating the light sensors on his badge, thinking ahead in webs of possibility.
At last, after ducking through a hidden hatch revealed by the orb's cryptic riddle, the tunnel walls widened into a space so dazzling they all froze.
It was the Garden Where Comets Swim.
The chamber felt impossibly vast, like falling into a vault beneath stars. Arcs of translucent crystal flora grew from the metal floor, pulsing slow as breathing—petals flared in every color, their colors shifting in cadence with the quiet shimmer overhead. No ordinary ceiling capped this chamber, only a dome of transparent alloy, with slits open to the void. True comets, trailing cerulean tails, drifted past in lazy orbits; their passage sent waves of micro-gravity through the garden. With one step, gravity melted away entirely, and all three abruptly floated upward, caught in invisible currents like dandelion seeds.
Mira’s laugh rang out, more nervous than fearless. “Alright—points for secret lairs. Is this where the Smuggler throws us a tea party or out an airlock?”
Zuri’s coat—attuned to electromagnetic pulses—sparkled as she spun lightly past a coral-pink stalk. “No threat yet. But plenty of enigma.”
Luca steadied himself, grabbing the edge of a crystalline branch. “We’re here for a reason. He wanted us to follow.”
Even speaking felt different in here; words hung longer, as if buoyed by the light gravity. Luca’s eyes scanned the petals. At random intervals, bursts of light flickered through the flowers, each pulse tracing outlines in unfamiliar glyphs.
Zuri drifted close. She ran fingertips lightly over a blossom, leaving trails in the faint dust. “There are patterns here—code within the veins.”
Mira, never one to wait, reached out and plucked a petal free. Instantly, a burst of pale blue light flared—images swam in the air around her: shifting constellations, flowing from one shape to another, never settling.
“Oops,” she said.
A faint mechanical whir grew louder. Out from among the largest crystalline trunks zipped a formation of silvery drone orbs—at first, just reflections, but then hardening into ten, twenty, thirty distinct shapes. Each mimicked the trio’s movements with eerie precision.
“Decoys,” Luca said. “He’s trying to distract us. If we chase them, we’re lost.”
Zuri oriented herself toward the center of the chamber, where a cluster of larger orbs—resembling miniature comets—floated in synchronized orbits around a centerpiece of entwined crystal. “The petal-glyphs,” she murmured. “See? Each is a segment of a lost constellation.”
Sure enough, when she spun the petal in her hand, the code flickered—projecting snippets of what might, just might, be fragments of the Constellation Cipher.
Luca hovered near her, mind spinning. “He’s left us a puzzle: arrange the orbs to match the cipher’s lost energy pattern.”
Mira grinned. “So we can put things back in order. Sometimes you do just charge in.” She grabbed for the nearest free-floating comet-orb, tugging it toward the next cluster.
As soon as her hand pressed the orb into place, the garden’s pulses sped up—petals flashed wild yellow, gravity hiccupped, and an automated voice, ancient but firm, echoed through the chamber:
‘System fault. Unauthorized interference. Initiating cometary defense simulation in five...four...’
The microgravity shuddered. From above, silvery motes—tiny comet-drones—ignited in dazzling spray, arcing at incredible speed around the chamber!
“Nice going,” Luca muttered through a tight grin, fingers working to recalibrate his badge. But Mira only whooped, twisting free as a comet whizzed millimeters past. “You wanted action, right?”
Zuri, far less blithe, quickly synchronized two petals beneath her hands, reading the glyphs’ precise angles. “The orbs must be arranged to align the cipher’s frequency, not merely the shapes. Think: the pulse pattern!”
Luca’s analytical brain worked at frantic pace. “The comet-orbs—each emits a harmonic. If their resonance adds up wrong, the defense triggers. Mira, time your pushes with the color pulse—see, there!” As a crimson light flared, he called, “Now—blue orb to third axis!”
Mira spun the next orb on the current, timing her throw with nervous precision. Zuri, half-singing an alien scale, aligned her petals’ code with each pulse. The drones whirled, patterns growing tight and dangerous.
A comet-drone buzzed Luca’s ankle. “We’ll get one shot—if we fail, the system’ll lock down, or we’ll be ejected to vacuum.”
Mira only grinned wild, for once trusting the instructions. Zuri’s tone rose; the air began to vibrate with harmony. The crystal flowers cast lines of light in a twisting web—a constellation, but alive, and changing with every passing second.
“Focus!” Zuri called, voice suddenly steely. “Merge your actions—think together, not apart. Let the pattern guide you!”
Luca closed his eyes, trusting all he'd learned: the logic of patterns, the artistry of chance. He envisioned the cipher’s structure, not as code, but as a kind of dance—Mira’s bold pushes, Zuri’s intuition, and his own quiet coordination.
One final flourish: Zuri reversed the petal’s spin, Mira tapped two orbs in quick succession, and Luca used his badge to direct a last microgravity surge.
The orbs snapped into a perfect constellation—a blinding silvery light erupted, stilling the drones and bringing quiet to the entire chamber.
For a stunned moment, nothing. Then, in the crystalline heart of the garden, a holographic image shimmered to life. The Smuggler’s face—half hidden, eyes sharp and amused—regarded them from beneath a wavering cloak of static.
“I knew only a rare sort of mind would reach this place,” the recording intoned, his voice sly. “You solved my garden, but the real test lies ahead. If you seek the Cipher, board the derelict starship Athena before I leave this realm. Bring your courage—and your imagination. For those who can remake the constellations might yet rewrite the fate of the galaxy.”
The image faded. For the next instant, they hung breathless, suspended in microgravity, hearts racing.
Mira wiped a bead of sweat from her temple, still floating upside down. “How often does a Smuggler leave an invitation? I’m almost flattered.”
Zuri let out a shivering sigh, a rare moment of pride blooming across her features. “He waited for us—he wants us to prove ourselves.”
Luca, steady now, nodded. “He’s not just testing us. He’s looking for equals—or foils. We have a direction: the Athena. One last dance.”
With deliberate slowness, the gravity field settled. The petals faded back to soft luminescence, as if thankful for their return to order. One by one, the trio drifted toward a newly opened arch in the far wall—once hidden, now revealed by their solution.
“We face a Smuggler who loves games more than chaos,” Luca murmured, a note of anticipation thrilling in his voice. “No matter what tricks are ahead—tonight, we chase him on our terms.”
Together, they entered the corridor, shoulders brushing, shadowed by comet light—and for the first time, the invisible thread binding them felt stronger than any trap or riddle the galaxy could conjure.
The Athena awaited, and with it, the galaxy’s future hung in the balance.