Author: silverflight8 PM
A look at the man who designed the Prometheus Engine. Spoilers for Skybreaker...kind of. Rated T for death.Rated: Fiction T - English - Words: 423 - Reviews: 4 - Follows: 1 - Published: 10-12-08 - Status: Complete - id: 4592397
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
A/N: It's been awhile. Please review and tell me if there's any mistakes, and I'll fix them.
Disclaimer: Thanks to Kenneth Oppel for creating the playground called Skybreaker. I make no profit.
He worked, head bent over the machine, feverishly welding and screwing bolts into place. His ship, the Hyperion, was already out in the airfield, ready for takeoff. They were only waiting for him to complete the machine and haul it aboard. A servant tapped on the door restlessly.
"Sir, it's time to go."
"In a minute; you may wait a minute," Grunnel snapped, picking up a particularly fiddly piece and fitting it in. Sparks flew and the servant squinted.
"Sir, the Aruba Oil company is looking for you," the servant said. At this, Grunnel looked up wildly, and bit out, "Get this to the ship now."
Aboard his ship at last, rising into the sky, Gunnel could finally relax. He was going to spend the rest of his life up here, untroubled by anyone. He had the plans of the airborn city to occupy his days. And the Prometheus Engine would be safe up here, away from the destroying fingers of Aruba Oil.
The Prometheus Engine was his masterpiece. He had stumbled on the design one day as he examined the aerozoans that had almost fired all the circuits when it had touched an airship he had once been on. It had certainly been tricky to find men to believe the existence of such a creature, let alone go capture one. But with Grunnel's wealth, it wasn't long before he had one to take apart and examine. And oh, what engineering feats were in them! He had copied the design from them. In fact, they were floating angrily behind the glass cage, dangerous tentacles waving.
Everything was aboard that needed to be—his private collection, his wealth, his engine and greenhouse. Enough to support himself, the crew, and his servant indefinitely.
He opened his journal and made a marking inside that listed the day he had taken off and sketched another picture of his city. The wings that could be used to move about lay beside him. He felt the rough wings and smiled. Someday, they'd all be above ground. Soon, they could all live without the burden of heavy earth, and could float on the winds.
What he didn't know was that he would be floating in the upper reaches of the atmosphere, dead, for a long, long time.