Kyle was careful in his approach. The ground was slippery with gore and though the larger pieces of the truck had been separated out from the dragon’s flesh, the smaller bits had been left in place. It wouldn’t do, to have come so close only to fall and puncture his hazmat suit. No, that wouldn’t be good at all.
The lights overhead were bright and a cool white in color. Magically hardened electric lights to avoid interaction with any enchantments or magi-tech in the wreckage. Once again Kyle marveled at how perfect this location was for their examination. Almost like the U.S. government or one of its agencies or contractors had anticipated the need for examining a dragon corpse.
Okay. The warlock was able to admit he was being unfair even in his own mind. It was only prudent to have this kind of facility when things like dragons and monsters roamed the world. It was really, highly unlikely that some shadow agency had offed a couple of dragons and had this site prepped just for that incident. Probably. He was being paranoid.
The dragon’s scales gleamed in the bright light. At least, those scales not covered in dirt and bloody flesh, or ichor gleamed pearlescent metallic colors over the deep-blue green of the base. A teeny part of his brain whispered at him to snag a few to take back to the museum for scientific and official museum business only.
Sam snorted behind him.
“I saw that.” She murmured through their comms. And Kyle pretended to ignore her and he approached a crushed box on the twisted remains of the former truck bed.
“What did you see?” Alex pipped up like the obnoxious tagalong that Kyle found her to be.
“Kyle, briefly fantasizing about how useful it would be to have a couple of dragon scales in the museum’s private collection.” Alex’s eyes widened and her lips formed an ‘O’ of surprise. Jones chuckled; he’d been smart enough to keep his mouth shut as he’d been wondering how technically – on a scale of one-my-momma’s-disappointed-in-me to ten-there’s-a-special-place-in-hell-for-corpse-looters – evil it would be to pocket a few himself.
“Nobody’s taking pieces of the corpse. It’s going to be repatriated back to their kin.” Kyle interrupted before anyone could start one of the bicker fests that he realized started up when he and his sister were together. Then he added with less surety, “Probably.”
“If it hadn’t been crushed, it wouldn’t look like much of anything would it?”
“Under statement of the century, Sis.” The warlock turned his body so he could grin at her as they now stood in a line before the device or artifact. “But that’s how it usually is with these magi-tech things.”
“Right!” Sam groused, clearly aggrieved. “Not quite an artifact, but not just technology. I know it’s my specialty, but the way some people cobble them together as if they are two separate fields of knowledge? Look at this piece of crap!” She gestured angrily. “No elegance, no grace, no cooperative synergy. Just two completely disparate parts forced into a semi-functional whole.”
The rant had Kyle grinning. It was a common rant from his sister, something the young man had heard over and over again through the years. And she was right. A plain metal box that had been crushed so the insides had spilled out from tears in it. There were the remains of a metal crate lined with magically insulating glass lying, also crushed, a few feet away. Styrofoam insulation had been mashed into powdery bits, tinged pink in some places when it mingled with flesh and blood.
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
“It is an ugly piece of work.” Jones agreed. “Watch your step, there’s broken glass around.” Murmurs of acknowledgement came through the comms.
“Let’s get it packed up.” The Warlock of the Archivist opened his case and placed a clean, magically insulated sheet several feet away to lay the open case upon. He wanted to make sure that he wasn’t covering any piece of the device-slash-artifact that he needed to collect.
They worked quickly and efficiently after collection tools were disbursed among the four of them. Extra magically insulating gloves were placed over their gloves to protect their suits from damage and contamination. Tongs with magically insulated handles also.
“Where to start?” Alex asked with doe-eyed eagerness.
“I was thinking we secure the main box first then the smaller pieces that had burst out in the crush.” It seemed like the obvious choice to Kyle who was most used to archaeological excavations
“No, you need to secure the small pieces first, you dolt.” His sister smacked the back of his head then her eyes bugged, and her mouth gapped as she realized the faux-pas she made with her reflexive big sister action.
“That’s insane. No one does that.” Kyle’s response caused Sam’s eyes to widen again, but this time in surprise and a little bit of confusion.
“So that you know where they were in relation to the box to make reassembly easier.” Her explanation heavily implied ‘duh stupid’ as well as a clear superiority of her knowledge over his.
“Oh.” Kyle laughed at his sister. “You’ve never worked with a Warlock of the Archivist and think we have to do everything by hand.” He flicked a hand dismissively on one shoulder as if getting rid of the thought. “We don’t use these kinds of plebeian methods.”
“I…uh…” Jones hesitant voice came over the comms and Sam, Alex, and Kyle looked up from their sibling bickering. “I’ve never used these before.” The soldier admitted hesitantly. “What do I do?”
“Oh, here.” Alex offered. “I’ll show you.” Alex and Sam were familiar with crime scene investigation and retrieval of magi-tech devices. It was their profession and what they’d trained for. Sam had been doing it for years now. Kyle also had training in artifact retrieval. But Jones… his specialization was more in neutralization than preservation and retrieval.
“Oh, Jones.” Kyle commented. “I totally forgot that you were… weren’t… a nerd like us.” He gestured between himself and his sister, conspicuously leaving out Alex with a dubious glance in her direction. Then he shrugged as Alex showed Jones how to pull the special gloves over Jones’ protective suit and secure them in place.
“Now you look like a proper museum representative,” Kyle smirked and Jones made a rude gesture while grinning back at him. “Let’s do this.” He gestured for them to stand back and he held out a hand with his codex hovering over it. Its tether swung slowly between the book and his shoulder where it was secured. “Archive Query. Archive Input Sequence.”
The codex, a rather plain and old-looking leather-bound book, opened slowly. Pages, yellowed with age, flipped by. Mysteries and secrets of the ages flashed brief glimpses teasingly at observers before the codex settled on fresh, newer looking blank pages singed the slight browning of almost scorched around the edges. Then, those pages flickered to life with a faint golden glow that gradually intensified. Jones wondered if the pages had always been like that, or if he hadn’t noticed during the desperate fighting the day before. Kyle was frowning slightly in concentration and the soldier chose not to interrupt and ask.
“Identify and Locate, Parts of the Whole. Three-dimensional Construct with Manipulative Reconstruction. Save to Archive.”
Kyle pointed at the artifact.
As he spoke the spell command sequence, the pale golden glow from the pages intensified. When he pointed, the glowing magic of the archive gently and in a distinctly non-threatening manner then reached out of the book. It landed on the major components of the device they had come to collect. Then other places among the bloody floor and ruined flesh of the dragon began to glow. Smaller bits and pieces that none of the group had yet identified as belonging to the artifact.
“Now, that’s useful,” Jones murmured in appreciation. In another area of the enormous warehouse one of the workers began shouting in panic as a glow emanated from one of the pockets on his hazmat suit.
“Yes. Sam agreed. Very useful indeed.” Her wand was out and pointed threateningly at the thief. Jones joined her in pulling his wand and they both hurried over to corner the thief. More security personnel were closing in on the suspicious individual who had already put his hands up in surrender.
“I’ve always thought so.” Kyle didn’t smile. He hadn’t been surprised.