Free The Death of Cassandra Quebec by Eric Brown Page B

vintage
Mercedes, smiling parents and babe-in-arms, is famous – a scene
imprinted on the collective consciousness by the tragedy of the
events that followed. The fact that the instrument of her death was
travelling with them makes the short clip all the more grotesque.
As a wedding present, Quebec had bought her husband a bird-like
alien known as a Pterosaur from a newly-discovered planet in the
Serendipity Cluster. It was an ugly, featherless creature, had a
beak like a scythe and was reputedly empathic - a suitably bizarre
pet for the world's most famous couple. It could be seen perched on
the back seat, maintaining its balance with edgy adjustments of its
vast, leathery wingspan as the automobile swept through the gates
of the colony.
    Quebec and Maltravers
argued often during their first year of marriage. It was reported
that their differences of opinion, because they were artists, were
all the more vituperative. Maltravers, the rumour went, was jealous
of his wife's talent and success; Quebec, for her part, despaired
that her husband's constant envy would prevent him from ever
attaining greatness for himself.
    The one known truth of
their relationship was that, however violent their arguments, their rapprochements were just as intense. They were hailed, in
media hyperbole, as the planet's greatest lovers – how jealous I
felt when I read this! – and as evidence the news-media offered up
the fact that, as well as sharing a bed, they also shared a
studio.
    It was in this studio,
three days after her arrival at Sapphire Oasis, that Cassandra
Quebec met her end,
    They had argued.
Quebec was part-way through a crystal that would stand as testimony
to their love, and as such it had to contain everything ,
their imperfections and flaws of character as well as their
strengths. Maltravers was loath to subject himself to so public a
scrutiny, and his protestations which began their final argument
were overheard by their daughter's nurse.
    They were in the
studio, facing each other across the sun-lit chamber. The volume of
their recriminations was noted by several other artists, who paid
no heed as this was nothing new between the husband and wife. The
nurse reported that she had glimpsed the alien pet, flapping in
agitation beside Maltravers, before she departed to attend the
crying child in another part of the living quarters.
    According to
Maltravers, they had reached an impasse in their disagreement, a
temporary cease-fire, and Cassandra remained staring at him from
across the work-strewn room. Maltravers admitted to feelings of
anger, and it was this anger, experts testified at the inquest,
that the Pterosaur must have picked up.
    Before Maltravers
could move to stop it, the Pterosaur left its perch, swooped across
the room and attacked his wife with claws like sickles. Maltravers
fought it off, but so savage was the attack that within seconds
Quebec was lacerated beyond recognition. He realised – he said
later in sworn testimony – that his wife was dying and that
nothing, not even the latest surgical techniques, could save
her.
    The events that
followed were bizarre to say the least.
    Beside Quebec was the
fused crystal, empty but for touches of her love for Maltravers.
What he did then, in his grief and regret and overwhelming sense of
loss, was to lift his wife and place her on the slab as if it were
a catafalque, and then lay his brow against its faceted surface and
impress upon it his turbulent emotions. She died in his arms
minutes later, and the crystal recorded the moment for
eternity.
    For three days the
world's media vilified Maltravers as a monster, until the coroner
reported at the inquest that nothing could have saved Quebec. Then
his agent released the crystal, and over the next year or so public
opinion swung in Maltravers' favour – the vilification turned to
sympathy and appreciation.
    In the silence of the
Museum I steeled myself, stepped forward and laid my palms on the
crystal's surface. Warmth ran