Tevun-Krus #5 - DecoPunk

Trinity

Trinity

A Decopunk Short by @lambda

It was only a matter of time before I would be crowned Empress of the Diesel Empire, my long streaming dress twisting around my body effortlessly; a dark satin and green, our Empire's colours reflected in the heavy makeup I was wearing. There was a smell of lavender, or was it peppermint, I could not be sure, signaling for the maids to leave; my hand rising to strike the nearest one as they skittered away. I breathed in the sweet air of my cabin, a large bouquet of flowers perched neatly on a wooden table; both items silhouetted against the murky brown of our planet: Atorva.

"Trinity, everyone is waiting..." A sharp knock sounded as I sighed, how I despised this unfair situation that had unfolded, a man I didn't want to marry, on a space station I didn't even want to visit. Our planet was dying, what were we to expect; that the way we ruled would keep us out of harm's way for eternity, now Atorva looked more desirable than once thought. The planet was a dumping ground, factories outnumbered homes, asylums outnumbered schools and where the tallest chimney would be constructed, another one would be erected seconds later even taller; and when the smoke burns your...

"Estalla I mean it child, if I have to come in there!"

"I am ready, don't rush me..." The pipes creaked as I pulled open the heavy iron door, my eye's were confronted with the ugly truth; Miss Yvonne, once a whore working her way around the zeppelin docks down in the capital, she sought seldom in my cousin Henry despite the forty year age gap. Her face is a tattered mess of dizzying pinks and purples with a heavy smell of perfume wafting from her protruding bosoms, a waste of a woman, a real waste.

Miss Yvonne was now my adviser and as I made my way behind her, keeping up quickly with the clattering of her leaded heels, high pressurized stain-glassed windows kept the atmosphere of the long, luxuriously-cladding hall breathable, but they were without light filtering through; this gothic sanctuary now became my personal hell.

"You may find it unfair that a fifteen year old child like yourself, is being married to a thirty-six year old man but you will find on Atorva, it is the natural way of marrying children in a monarchy. You do not get the choice, a forced hand is a clean hand so they say." I tried not to smile as she tripped a little, making what seemed like a meaningful speech, more a mortifying squeak of words.

"We are not on Atorva, we are on the Halitus crown station of the Great Diesel Fleet..." I mimicked my father as Yvonne took no notice, her awkward dress causing creases in her sun-spotted back; I wouldn't expect much less from such a chain smoker. Above us a large tapestry; it revealed an exterior view of the station; a huge metal behemoth which looked like an upside down kettle sprouting many wings, hallways and docks for ferry-ships to pass through, signs leading us towards the Grand Hall...

Heavy breathing emitted from my mouth, my stomach churning as I turned back only to have Yvonne stand in my way; facing forwards again, Yvonne knocked twice and slowly the story-high gold-encrusted doors swung open revealing a hall packed to the ceiling with people. There were important dignitaries, corporation figureheads, royalty and the journalists with their cameras flashing away, bulbs of lights exploding; my false grin turning to a frown of uncertainty. I almost jumped as my father, Emperor of the Empire, took my arm in lock... guiding me towards my future husband as the national anthem was instrumentally played.

"Don't worry pumpkin, it's only me..." I smiled and nodded patiently, the spectacles on his nose lighting up as his smartly brush-shaped moustache grew with the gleaming smile he portrayed.