“According to my source, the – ahem – ‘oft-stolen painting of a dragon and a unicorn’ will be in Room 1902.” Jiddah sounded all too pleased with herself, twirling in a circle and pointing the way, mime style.
I answered with a snort and ignored the mocking bow she offered, low and full of false respect my apprentice never bothered to show where anyone might see. Even now, with the cameras disabled – thanks to said apprentice – and the hallways dark, she wouldn’t act the same as she did in private. Said it was all part of her persona.
I understood. Having a game meant it would be easier if she needed to disappear for a while. I threw surprises at her once in a while so she’d change things up and avoid getting complacent. Habits were dangerous.
So were nemeses, but some rivalries were too good and too old to move past. Or we wouldn’t be here, playing the longest game of tag two childhood friends couldn’t shake.
I said habits were dangerous, not that I didn’t have any. And here we were, risking everything for a stupid, ridiculous painting. It fit perfectly in a laptop case, making it easy to transport.
It wasn’t even a good painting. Harper and I both hated it, in fact. So much that neither of us were willing to let the other have it.
“A crime against humanity,” she’d drunkenly proclaimed so long ago. From the top of a beer hall picnic table, if I recall correctly, one that shouldn’t have yet let us inside for more than sausages and sauerkraut. I’d woken up with a hangover to find it gone, and that’s when it started.
We’d take each other down someday with our predictability. And now look at me, bringing poor Jiddah into this mess. But an apprentice gave me some options Harper didn’t have.
Like carrying some equipment I’d sauntered past without, creating no suspicion on the part of a few rather wheezy guards and one sharp-eyed military retiree. Deception works best when you give people what they expect, and that retired Marine almost slouched in his eagerness to smile at the friendly student coming through the door. Shocking, I know.
“We’re here.” Low voices carried less than a whisper, but it was still harsh and loud in the dim hallway. Automatic fluorescents would’ve been welcome for the annoying buzz alone, even if it would have ruined our plan. Silence always freaked me out a little on a job.
I wouldn’t have admitted the weakness in front of my apprentice anyway. You know how it goes. Someday she’ll turn on me.
The lockpicking kit was inside my blazer, neatly tucked where my wallet should have been. I touched it with a finger and then pulled away.
“Start with the basics.” I murmured the phrase, more to myself than to Jiddah, and reached for the doorknob. It turned.
Either this was a setup, or the worst museum security I’d seen in a long time. I was betting on the latter. This place was ancient, even if I wouldn’t put it past Harper to set me up.
My apprentice let out a squeal, and I winced, regretting my unvoiced request for noise. But we weren’t likely to be caught at this point, unless the portly man snoozing off the powder Jiddah had slipped into his tea decided to sleepwalk his patrol route. We had plenty of time, and just enough.
And there it was. The ugliest painting you had ever seen. Not even special, just old; the paints faded and flaking. The unicorn was bearded and a muddy brown, about to impale a skeletal maiden cooing over its head. A dragon loomed in the background, misshapen and disproportionate, about to eat said maiden without her protector even noticing.
I tell you true, I was doing the world a favor here.
“All right, apprentice. Time to do your job.” I pretended not to notice the eyeroll.
“As if I’ve not done all the work already.” She slung her canvas satchel on the back of a chair and started unpacking.
A few minutes of frantic movement later, I got to work. She spent the rest of the night snoozing.
My back and feet were aching by the time I heard her stir behind me.
“George? What is that?”
At least, I think that’s what she said around her yawns. I chose to believe it. “It’s a colony ship. The Dragon Salute.“
I’d always imagined that the future warships of the Kuiper Belt would have the Black Ensign painted proudly on their flanks. When a warship was docked, the flag would be also displayed outside the docking tube, I suspected. For now, the flag was painted in the top left corner, dimly visible against the outline of a spaceship, the entire canvas covered in the black of space.
Out in space, pirates were a friendly bunch – or at least, they were as close to it as you’d get if they weren’t leaving you to die after an emergency. They’d earned their toll if you survived. I always figured, pirates in space were going to be the first colonizers as soon as commercial asteroid mining took off for real. You can’t walk away from a family in space so easily.
I’d invested heavily in commercial space a long time ago after a big score, always assuming I’d have to leave the planet someday. I’d even bought Harper her own fake ID to get off planet, so we could continue the game in space.
Someday wasn’t today. And at least I didn’t have to chase that damn unicorn anymore. “Help me peel the tape off the frame?”
Another yawn. “Still think it’s weird.”
I shrugged and wrapped the paintbrushes in a paper towel. We’d clean them back at the lair – I mean, studio – maybe with a touch of gloating thrown in. It was time to make our exit, before that Marine guard found his buddy downstairs. He was the type to show up early.
Harper popped into my head as a vivid image, as she so often did. I could hear her screeching as she tried to find out where the dragon had gone.
Her fury and frustration was definitely going to be my next work.
***
Prompt one, from week 38 of odd prompts, and prompt two, from week 39, blended together. Cheers!
